When my time is up . . .

"Without getting into specifics, my exit involves a McFlurry machine and a videotape of risque commercials from overseas." - Jack Donoghue, 30-Rock

Thirteen

My darling daughter has turned 13. My little one. My baby girl. Its hard to imagine where the time has gone. And it will continue to fly by. She's been taller than me for awhile. Her shoe size passed mine in 6th grade. And she met me eye to eye by the beginning of 7th. Somewhere in the last 8 mos she's gotten an inch or so on me. But she still weighs 15 pounds less than me!

Its feels odd now to hug her, or have her throw HER arm around MY shoulders. I want to be the protector, the lioness, mama bear. But she's quickly outgrowing the need for my protection and guidance. It makes a big part of me sad, while the rest of me beams with pride at the young lady she's becoming.

Twelve was a tough year. She faced difficult choices with friendships, boys, and activities. Sometimes she made bad choices. Often she rebelled, just for the sake of rebelling, and pulling on that fabric that binds us together. Often she made good choices though. And, most importantly, she does learn from her bad choices. She kept her grades up and did a great job in cheer, which required a lot of dedication and hard work.

We're in a really good place right now. She is open about her love and admiration for me, as I am for her. Trust me, we have our moments. But I'm hopeful that 13 will be easier than 12. Perhaps I'm just kidding myself. But one can hope. Mostly I just feel blessed by her presence in my life, and I often marvel that such a bright, funny, socially gifted child came from my own body. And I will enjoy the time I have left with her greatly before she spreads her wings and takes flight.

OC Marathon

Well I did it! I met my goal of running a marathon before I turned 40, beat it by almost a year in fact. I'm so relieved that I don't have that hanging over my head anymore. But I also don't think I'll have the need to do it ever again.

The first half went beautifully. My and my sis bonded at the start line and offered up a prayer to goddess for strength, power, and endurance. Then we took off.

I felt really good for the first few miles. There were lots of downhills and it wound through beautiful neighborhoods, along the coast and through a natural wetlands area. I was frustrated because I had to stop and poo around mile 6 even though I'd taken an immodium. I think I wasted about 10-15 min in line, it seemed like forever.

I started getting real tired around mile 10 but kept going although I walked through all the water stops. At mile 12 the marathon split from the half marathon and I was really envious of those folks turning left towards their finish line. I was tired. I thought of my sister who would be done soon, and my other two sisters who were already done with their 5k. And I thought about how long they would be waiting for me to finish, and whether or not they'd be drunk by the time I got there. My path took me up a giant hill over a freeway (which I walked) and then wound through streets. At mile 13 I asked a cop what time it was and he said 9:25 so I knew I had done well on the half despite the bathroom break.

After the first half my agreement with myself was that I would walk/run the rest as I felt I could. We passed our hotel and I thought briefly that I could just go on up and lay down, it was tempting. Then we wound through a mall and a guy cheered for me and said "only 10 more miles" and I said "Really? Only 10 more?" and he laughed but I was serious because I hadn't seen a mile marker in awhile and I wasn't sure. I knew I could pull off 10 more.

But then the sun came out. Miles 17 and 18 dragged on and on. When I saw mile marker 19 I was furious because I thought for sure it would be mile 20, so I gave a mental "f-u" to mile marker 19. When I hit 20 I started to feel some desperation with the heat and knowing I had 6 miles left. But I knew I could do 6. I ran the downhills and some flat parts until my body was just screaming at me to stop. My hamstrings were aching and my feet were burning.

Until mile 23 we were running along this moldy wash with desert on the other side and not a body in sight aside from the desperate marathoners around me. I was pissed that they couldn't come up with some better scenery for this part. I was quite tempted to hitch a ride on the ambulance parked there for runners in trouble. I was repeating over and over in my head "never ever never ever never ever again".

In mile 24 we went through this sort of bad neighborhood and I was staring longingly at the grass along the sidewalk just imagining how nice it would be to lay down for just a minute. But I knew that if I did that I wouldn't get up again, and someone would call the paramedics and I'd get carted off.

Mile 25 I started running again, thinking I have at least another mile in me. But, I didn't. As I approached the fairgrounds I could see the finish line and I started running again only to be fooled by such trickery as a detour to take us all the way around before we got to the finish line. Mean spirited marathon planners! As I passed the 26 mile marker I was listening to "Dick in a Box" and I had to chuckle at that, as I know I'll always remember what I was listening to as I brought this challenge to a close.

So, I started running again because I had to be running when the sistahood saw me. I heard them before I saw them and broke into this wide goofy grin, and temporarily forgot about my bodily pain. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, and one of them jogged alongside me outside the barriers. It was so awesome to have them there. When I crossed the finish line I didn't feel that joy and elation and emotion that some marathoners report, but I did feel a huge sense of relief and I did get a little teary hugging my sisters. When I finally was able to lay down in the grass, they stripped off my shoes and started rubbing my feet!! Then one snagged a massage table for me and I was able to get my legs and feet stretched and massaged, it was incredible.

I love my sistas and am so grateful that they accompanied me along this journey.

marathon madness

So my sisters and I have been blogging our training progress towards our marathon/half marathon goal on May 3 over at www.ochalfmarathon.blogspot.com. I was looking through our past posts and had to giggle at the list of titles:

2
My body, it doth protest too much
6
Alright already!!!
My Boundless Suckitude
well?
I suck as well. I will be walking tonight though. ...
I suck
I hurt
movin' along
Its not about the cookies . . .
How many miles...
3.5
Booty
Yeah, Sandy if you would just quit stopping twice ...
Ha!
4.5
Well. . .
Vday workout
I did two and a quarter tonight. I will do four an...
4 miles, people! 4!!!
Evening walk/run?
8.5
fuck this shit
update
redemption
I have also hit a snag with the training. I was su...
Idiot dog
Comments on research
3.5
research
Birthday Walk
whoops
ocho
0 today
I did my 2 1/4 last night, I'm not timing right no...
3.5 today
I totally blew it
8 miles today
16.5
Ok, I am really in now.
I'm doing a shorter walk today (2 1/4) and will do...
No Pain No Gain
Tough day Friday.
nothing today
If pain is a privelege, then I am surely blessed
Well, according to the training schedule I spent 4...
damn
Breathing
Pain is Privilege
1/27

madness

I am loathe to put this in writing because it really escalates the commitment, but its already gone too far. I have talked my sisters (all 3 of them) into taking a weekend with me and doing the Orange County Marathon/half marathon. See, I have had this goal of doing a marathon before I turn 40. Well, the local Rock n Roll marathon just happened and several people I know did it. And, I turn 39 in a couple months, which means that the clock is ticking on my goal. And the pressure is mounting. I've had this goal for so long and as the years have passed it has weighed more heavily on my mind. I might have done it sooner were it not for my knee injury, as I was in half marathon shape when that happened. But regardless, time has passed and here I am. And I just can't sit around waiting for August to start training for a January marathon. Too much pressure. I need to get it over and done. So now I've committed to doing it on May 3. Already paid up. Already paid for the hotel. Already got 3 others in on my schemes and plans. No backing out now.

I'm really excited for the weekend, we've never done anything like this before. Its our first "sista weekend." And its cool that there will be months of build up and preparation for all of us.

Anyway, so tonight I ran 6 whole miles without stopping!! I'm in better shape than I thought. I've been running 3.5 miles fairly regularlly for the last several months, so this is good. I did 6 miles in about 78 minutes, so it was a little over a 13 minute mile. My goal is to do it in 5 hours, so some work to do there. Actually, my goal is to just finish the damn thing and have it over!!!

his boyness

I have been thinking a lot lately about how much I cherish J's "boyness". His high pitched boy voice. His knobby often bruised knees. His lopsided smirk and smiling eyes. The splash of freckles across his nose. His insistence on being in the same room as I am, regardless of what I'm doing (I'm watching TV, he's shooting the dog with his Nerf guns or wrestling with his animals or jumping off my footboard with a plastic lid used as a skateboard). His carefully negotiated rights to sleep in my bed on weekends, holidays and "special occasions." The way he still comes into my room at 2 am. His unmatched and often dirty clothes. His yellow teeth. The remnants of food that can always be found on the corners of his mouth. The sheer joy he experiences jumping on the trampoline. The fearless way he hurls himself into the pool at all angles. The way he tosses back his head in laughter. The way he insists on riding his bike along with me when I go running, always negotiating a shorter route. His text to me from Kids Club saying "I'm in hell." The way he insists on pooping in my toilet and showering in my shower. His lack of self consciousness walking around naked after his morning shower. The way he sleeps with 20 stuffed animals piled onto his bed.

I'm sad, because my little J is almost 10 and I know his boyness is coming to an end. Soon his voice will change and he will begin locking his door when changing clothes (as his sister has done for over a year now). His boyish face will get pimples that he will be self-conscious of. He'll begin styling his mop of hair and demanding to have it cut. He'll brush his teeth of his own accord. He'll stop hugging me in public, and be horrified at the thought of sleeping in my bed.

I think I'm particularly sensitive to it because it feels like I turned around and my darling sweet little girl had disappeared into a beautiful tall slender fashion conscious short skirt wearing texting maniac who has precious little time for mom. I still adore her and much of the time she still likes me, which is good news. But it hurts a little that she's so grown up and I miss my baby girl. I just want to enjoy them while I still have them.

J will always be my little man. I think I will always have a tender spot in his heart. And today he's still my little boy. I just kissed him goodnight and he said "see you at 1."

hee hee

HR Mom

So I think my kids are going to be scarred by the fact that theiy were raised by an HR professional. When they grow up, this will be the thing that they hold the most resentment about, that they were treated like employees.

Case in point:

My 12 yr old K has been exercising some relatively poor judgment in use of her cel phone and conversations with boys and lack of disclosure with me, all of which I discovered after a thorough investigation. So I had to put the hammer down. I put usage controls in place, I had discussion with said boy's parents, and then we had a lengthy talk about "expectations" for which I had prepared talking points, and we came to some "agreements" on future conduct. I thought about writing them down and having her sign her agreement and acknowledgement of consequences for failure to comply, but I thought that might be overkill.

Then today I reviewed 9 yr old J's report card with him. Interestingly enough, his first comment was, "I know, I'm not happy with it either." So we discussed each grade and the actions he could take to improve it this quarter. I had him sit down and write out his action plan and we both signed and dated it, and I hung it on the refrigerator. I then wrote a note to his teacher about our action plan, and I had him sign the report card alongside my signature.

I'm not saying these techniques will prove effective. I'm just sayin I fall back on what I know. And, sometimes these techniques prove effective with employees. I would hate to think what I'll do if I reach a termination decision though. Hmm.