Happy Halloween!

Today is the happiest of Halloweens. You see, today is October 31 which means IT IS FINISHED! The 31 days of posting has come to an end and I just have to say, YIPPEEEEE! (You are probably feeling the same.)

Might I just point out that in the last 31 days you have actually been privy to 33 posts. (Hey, I never said they would be GOOD posts....this was all about quantity, not quality....apparently I learned NOTHING from our little mini-series!)

But, it was a good lesson in perseverance for me and now it is time for a break.

So, on that note, I just have to tell you about a conversation I overheard today.

Aidan: "Madeline, you are being an e-d-i-e-t right now."

Madeline: "What does that spell?"

Aidan: "Well, duh. It spells idiot."

Hee hee, I don't even need to make THAT funny.

Happy Halloween!

Just for a Day

Just for a day: 

I chose to stay home. It was then that I was able to create a home worth staying in.

I chose to be still, unmoving. It was then that I was moved.

****

The baby is asleep. My instincts tell me to be quiet. To let him sleep. To KEEP HIM ASLEEP. But, to be quiet, I must slow down. To be quiet, I have to be still. In that stillness, I can hear tiny whisperings stirring. (No I am not schizo but thanks for wondering!)

While I am actively being quiet, it occurs to me: We create too much excess noise. Most of us do anyway. We fill time up, moving from place to place, activity to activity, one piece of technology to the next; one noise to another. Our lives are full. And in that fullness, they are noisy.

But God spoke to Hagar near a spring in the desert, when she was all by herself. God spoke to Abraham when he was sitting, still and alone, in front of his tent. God spoke to Jacob in his dream and then again in a wrestling match, in the middle of the night, in the middle of silence. God spoke to Joseph in his dreams and again in the aloneness of prison; to Israel in the visions of night; to Moses while he was by himself. And then, in a most dramatic display, Got spoke to Elijah. He called him into His presence and sent a wind storm, and an earthquake, and a fire. But God was not in those. God came in a tiny whisper.

And the story line reveals itself over and over: God spoke to Samuel in the silence of rest and solitude, while alone in the temple; to the prophet Nathan, in the night; to Solomon in a dream and to Daniel in visions and during prayer.

Time and again, God speaks. In the silence. In the solitude. In the stillness.

Fast forward in time and we see God speaking (sometimes directly, sometimes through angels and in other ways) to Zechariah while he was alone burning incense in the temple, to Joseph in a dream, to Mary through an angel while she was alone, to Cleopas and his friend while they walked, and stood still, and broke bread; to Mary Magdalene as she wept alone in the tomb, to Saul on the road while he was blinded by the light, practically forced into silence so that he might listen and again to him (as Paul) in the night; to Ananias and Cornelius in visions, and to Peter on a roof while praying. The story unfolds and we are shown that we occasionally need to be still. We occasionally need to shut off all the noise invading our lives and be silent. Because God might be trying to speak.

"For God is not a God of chaos (or confusion, or disorder), but of peace." --1 Corinthians 14:33

And to hear Him, perhaps we need to practice stillness. And simply be quiet. Maybe then, in our stillness, we will be moved. Maybe then, order and peace will follow.

Profile of a Runner

There are all kinds of people out there and plenty of categories to fit them in. You might be a doctor and a parent. You might be a teacher, volunteer fireman and a swimmer. You might be into yoga or spinning or weight training. Or all of the above. And then there are the runners.

Now, many people call themselves runners. And by all means, it is a huge spectrum of people. But for some, it is more than just the way they get exercise. It is a way of life. I can't say that I fit into that category 100%, (it's closer to 99%) but for some, running is like eating. You can only go so long without it. Today's race made me realize just how insane some of us really are. (My guess is I will write that exact same sentence when I get home from the Polar Dash 10k on Jan. 1, brrrrrr....but I am getting ahead of myself.)

A few weeks back, my friend asked if I wanted to run the 10-mile Monster Dash with her. While the entry fee was almost enough to dissuade me (I think I paid $75) the gear alone was almost worth it. So I sucked it up and registered under the condition that we would run sporting some sort of costumes. After all, it is a costume run. (I wore a pumpkin hat and antennae, she wore devil horns.....so much for costumes but hey, it wasn't nothing!)

Anyway, my friend is a pretty solid 9- to 9:30-minute mile runner and we run together once every week or two assuming I only have one kid to push in a jogger. At any rate, she wanted to line up at the 10- minute pace and then play catch up. But as some of you know, I can be a wee bit, um, competitive. I argued we should line up at the 9-minute pace and assume we would do better given that it is an especially fast course. (Lots of downhill, woo hoo!)

We compromised and lined up near the 9:30 pacer. We were surrounded by all sorts of people dressed in all sorts of crazy costumes. It would be an easy place to sit and judge but rest assured, you can never tell what kind of runner someone might be by their costume. :)

Anyway, my goal was simply to run with my friend the ENTIRE RACE. After all, she was the one who invited me and it's always nice to have someone to chat with over long distances. That was my goal....but some of you know me and well, there is this little problem.

If you are not competitive then you may not fully understand the rest of the story.

Right before the race began, the espresso kicked in and I remembered why having given birth to 5 children put my bladder at a slight disadvantage in these things. But, there was no time to take care of that. The front runners left and we soon realized we were being held back in the second wave of runners (already this was just about enough to KILL ME! I mean, how can we catch up if we can't start when the race starts!) But then, the the rope fell and off we went.

So, I start chatting away, blah blah blah. My friend answers my questions briefly but for the most part just kept quiet. (Think of the old Spike and Chester cartoons, only, she's tiny.)

At first, it seemed like we were keeping a good pace and I felt like I could easily just stick with her and be happy. But as time went by, she started telling me she wasn't feeling great today. And then a woman in a wedding dress passed us.....oh, not the woman in the wedding dress?! Really?!

And then, it seemed like we were getting passed more and more frequently. And that's when the competitive devil inside started rearing its ugly HUGE head. Let me break here for a second and just say that it's not like I am ultra-competitive. (Stop laughing Kurt and friends.) I do realize that not everything in life is a competition. There is no prize to be won for taking the quickest shower, let's say, or having the most kids (although we've got a pretty good start on that one in many circles, don't ya think? Just kidding...) But, when it comes to athletics, well, I'll admit I might tend to be a wee bit over the edge.

So the rest of the run went something like this (insert voice in head):

"Oh wow, is that person wearing a banana costume? I bet that is hard to run in. But look at that?! She's passing us."

"Man, I didn't know dogs were allowed on this course....sucks to get passed by a dog. Argh! It passed us, too!"

"Wait, is that chick pregnant?"

And then the real kicker: "Hey look Karen, that guy looks like he must be around 80. Oh, and look, HE'S PASSING YOU! Good job there, kiddo."

So, we are passing mile 6 at this point and my friend stops for water. I started running backwards to keep an eye on her and that is when competitive self thinks, 'If I am running backwards and keeping up just fine, I probably need to just bolt.'

My friend catches back up (and I turn back around) and I tell her that at the 5k mark I plan on taking off to run my personal 5k time. She says that's great, she isn't feeling really well anyhow and feels bad for holding me back. And then, God bless her, she says, "Why don't you go on ahead now." We have about 3.5 miles left at this point. I half-apologize and then off I frantically go, trying to get ahead of all those people I *know* I should be able to beat.

Pretty soon, I have passed the old guy (phew), and another old guy (that admittedly I had to work a little harder to catch), the banana girl, the guy wearing the "running for beer" t-shirt (surely I can't let THAT guy beat me...or that one, or THAT one!), the wedding dress lady, the dog and its owner, the chick whose sign on her back read: "I'm slow, but you're still behind me!" (Eat my glitter, chickie!) And so on and so forth. Then, I overhear one of the pacers tell someone he has 9.3 miles on his watch (really, they make watches that give you distance?! Awesome!) and so I think, 'Well, shoot, I might as well keep running fast now, there's not even a mile left!' And then up ahead, I see another little girl (what, are you 12?) and then, oh no, an old(er) lady wearing a tutu and another older lady in a tutu and holy smokes, that guy is HUGE! HE. CAN. NOT. BEAT. ME! (I never said I was a PC runner....)

And by the end I was in a full out sprint trying to finish before one more person....and then another, and another.....because you know, what kind of race is it if you aren't trying to beat the people in front of you?! (Plus, they were giving out free beer at the end....and I still had to go potty....but whatever.)

For those of you who are not runners, no, I didn't win. That is the beauty of it. Unless you are an elite racer, there is ALWAYS someone ahead of you to chase down. You can ALWAYS do better. And I imagine, even the runners who win these things are thinking that they "could've done better if....." because that is how we they think.

After playing a serious round of chase at the end, I ran the ten miles in one hour and twenty-three minutes. Since it has been years since I did any real distance racing, that's a decent baseline going forward. (And by going forward I mean I'm already registered for a 5k, 10k, two half marathons and a full marathon for 2012....yes, yes I am....darn pre-race-running-expo offering discounted rates for the 5-race series!....hee hee hee.) What can I say? As my husband recently told me about hunting, I'm hooked! But then, I already knew that!

The Monster Dash

Yesterday, Solomon and I headed into downtown St. Paul to pick up my chip and bib for the 10 mile race I am running today with a friend. I was surprised by the looks we were getting. Surely people have seen babies downtown before, I thought. I started feeling a bit awkward. I mean, usually the reaction to the baby is all giggly and sweet, not snooty and rude. Usually the laughing is with us, not at us.

Then it occurred to me that maybe the issue was that I still had on the antennae I was wearing when I dropped the kids off at school.

Hee hee....Come on people, lighten up! This is a COSTUME RUN!

I left the doodle-bug headband on the rest of the day to spite the seriousness. They functioned as glittery upside down exclamations of "IN YOUR FACE!" It was totally worth it.

Wish us luck!

(Something tells me that the full coffee mug full of espresso with a side of bacon and candy pumpkins was NOT the best pre-race meal.....hmmmm.....)

Our Voices

One thing this blogging challenge has done to me is it has made me very aware of my own voice. And I have to admit, sometimes I wish I had a different voice. No, I don't wish I had a different voice-box or that the actual sound that comes out of my mouth were any different. But, in the craft of writing, I sometimes find myself wishing for a different voice. Silly, I know. But....

There are a few bloggers I follow. (I am fairly picky since reading could easily consume all of my time.) I can pretty much sort them into four categories, with a bit of overlap here and there.

These categories are: Inspirational, Humorous, Practical, and Friends. And I am often struck by their unique voices.

At times, I find myself moved by an inspirational blogger. Their voice reaches those deep places inside  my soul that stay hidden from the outside world. They stir me, sometimes pushing me forward into places I would not have considered going without them. I feel forever changed when I read their posts. And often I stop at the end and think, "Wow, I wish I wrote like that. I wish I moved people like that."

And then I will read something so funny I laugh out loud to the point of hysteria, tears rolling down my cheeks, unable to move but in fits. (Sometimes it is even meant to be funny.) And I think, "Wow, I wish I wrote like that. I wish I had that kind of wit to paralyze people with laughter."

At other moments, I find myself so eager to try a bit of practical advice. It's like the blogger is looking into my life and telling me what I need to know right at that exact moment to keep things in order or to get me back on track. And once again I find myself thinking, "Wow, I wish I had enough insight to have written that. I wish I had helped someone else like that."

And then I read the writings of my friends. And while I am thankful to share in their lives, I think, "Wow, I am so blessed to have such creative friends. I wish I created or wrote like that." (If not just because they have managed to figure out how to get paid for doing what they love to do! Go figure!)

And then I go back and read some archived posts from this Chicken blog. I become critical and have to stop myself from going back and changing every last word, from trying to make it sound like someone else. As I sit there, one of my kids inevitably comes crawling into my lap. (What can I say, they are opportunistic children and if the lap is available, well, they have to be quick on the draw!) And while holding them, I remember that this blog is a special place, not because of the voice in it, but because it has them in it. ("It's not about me....it's not about me....it's not about me.....ok, mostly it's not about me....") And their simple gesture reminds me that I was given my voice and the desire to write for a reason. And that by creating this blog with my unique voice my children will one day know that I was truly present in their lives and it will show them how I wanted to hold onto every. last. moment. together. How I wanted to store away these memories in a safe place so that I would always know where to find them. (I also wanted to stop the clock and just be here in this place with them forever but apparently we don't always get what we want! Drats!)

And because it is my voice telling their stories, our stories, and not some random writer, maybe one day they will begin to know me a little more fully. And I'd like to think that that is a good thing. (So long as it isn't used as fuel by their therapists, of course!)

So, here's to all our individual voices: May we embrace our unique inner voice, knowing that each one bursts with the potential for spreading truth and goodness, adding its own flavor and beauty to this world, just the way it is! May our voices be our offering of love, and of grace. (Even if it contains a hint of gracefulness, like a chicken!)

Must be in the Blood

Today Liam and I were sorting animal cards. We had three piles:
1. Animals we see in the Neighborhood
2. Animals we see at the Farm
3. Animals we see at the Zoo

He did pretty well until we got to the alligator. I held up the card, "What's this?"

"An ALLIGATOR!" he exclaimed.

"Where does the alligator go?"

"In the neighbowhoo," he said.

"Well, maybe if we lived in Florida," I told him. "But let's put this guy in the zoo."

A few cards later, we came upon a Giant Tortoise.

"What's this?" I asked.

"An Alligator!" he said. Oooh, so close.

"Way to use caution buddy, but no, this is a tortoise." Really, he was one aggressive looking fellow right there. If you are three. And don't know he only moves like once a year. They do have similar coloring anyway.

A few cards later he put the bears and monkeys in our neighborhood, too. (Must be confused with the neighbors!)

The very last card was a hippopotamus with his mouth opened wide.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Another alligator!" he said excitedly.

"Close enough!" (Hey, better safe than sorry!)

Movin'...

...to the beat.

Now that I have finally figured out how to upload my phone videos, I figure the "right thing" for me to do is to share a few. (Yes, I am shirking my commitment to writing today!)

This first video features Aidan on the drums and Solomon, also on the drums (well you know, he has to hold on to them to do his bopping!) Enjoy!