...it may still be a little while. But I'll be back. No one ever reads this blog, anyway.
So to my boys, Luke and Jacob, this is all for you. These are stories that I want you to read one day many, many years from now. I want you to look back and see pictures of your family and your friends, and of yourselves. I want you to know how much you are loved.
And I will make my way back around to this blog. I'm not losing faith in myself that easily!
Monday, October 8, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
I don't want to forget this...
A few years ago, I wrote this post after rocking Luke to sleep one night. It is still to this day one of my all time favorite memories. I remember what he wore to sleep that night. I remember laying him down, and kissing his forehead (still to this day, my VERY favorite place to kiss Luke) and telling him how much I love him.
Last night I was rocking Jacob and I asked him if he'd like to say his prayers. We just recently started prayers with Jacob, and I'll be honest - he isn't all that cooperative. Even when we just ask him to repeat what we say...no can do. Little man has his own agenda. He'll do things on his terms. His time.
I expected the same last night so I was a bit taken aback when he told me that yes, he would like to say them. And as I started in with "Now I lay me..." he put his little finger up to my mouth as if to say "Mama, shhh. I got this."
And off he went. Through the entire prayer. He didn't need my help at all. And I looked at this little blonde boy, in his footie pajamas, holding his beloved monkey blanket, and it was if my mind did a furious timeline review of his life.
Birth, crawling, walking, talking...
As my brother in law told me this past weekend, life moves pretty fast. He told me that everyone can tell us this, until they are blue in the face. And that we probably won't listen. Because no one does. Everyone is always ready for the next stage. For the hard parts to be over. To get more sleep. But before my wonderful brother in law finished the conversation, he said "Jaime, just remember. You can't always hold them in your arms."
So I carried my baby boy to his bed, and I kissed those chubby cheeks that I could just eat. And I told him how much I love him. And I took a mental picture of the pajamas he was wearing. And I said my own little prayer, but it was one of thanks. I am truly blessed in the fact that I am able to call this child my son. And for that, I thank God.
Oh and Bob? Brother in law of the year (hell, the century)...thank you. I needed our little talk this weekend to remind myself to take a minute and breathe these boys in as much as humanly possible. Because it goes too, too fast.
Last night I was rocking Jacob and I asked him if he'd like to say his prayers. We just recently started prayers with Jacob, and I'll be honest - he isn't all that cooperative. Even when we just ask him to repeat what we say...no can do. Little man has his own agenda. He'll do things on his terms. His time.
I expected the same last night so I was a bit taken aback when he told me that yes, he would like to say them. And as I started in with "Now I lay me..." he put his little finger up to my mouth as if to say "Mama, shhh. I got this."
And off he went. Through the entire prayer. He didn't need my help at all. And I looked at this little blonde boy, in his footie pajamas, holding his beloved monkey blanket, and it was if my mind did a furious timeline review of his life.
Birth, crawling, walking, talking...
As my brother in law told me this past weekend, life moves pretty fast. He told me that everyone can tell us this, until they are blue in the face. And that we probably won't listen. Because no one does. Everyone is always ready for the next stage. For the hard parts to be over. To get more sleep. But before my wonderful brother in law finished the conversation, he said "Jaime, just remember. You can't always hold them in your arms."
So I carried my baby boy to his bed, and I kissed those chubby cheeks that I could just eat. And I told him how much I love him. And I took a mental picture of the pajamas he was wearing. And I said my own little prayer, but it was one of thanks. I am truly blessed in the fact that I am able to call this child my son. And for that, I thank God.
Oh and Bob? Brother in law of the year (hell, the century)...thank you. I needed our little talk this weekend to remind myself to take a minute and breathe these boys in as much as humanly possible. Because it goes too, too fast.
Monday, May 21, 2012
"Don't sweat the water on the bathroom floor."
Recently I've (sadly) been informed of tragic events leading to the loss of a child. Friends of friends, business acquaintances, total strangers...
I've had multiple conversations with friends and co-workers about how we would handle a situation such as this. And the response is typically the same...we cannot fathom a loss such as this. And you'd more than likely have to commit us.
A few weeks ago I'd heard one of the stories (sadly I can't even remember which right now) and I happened to be going out with Kelly that night. I was dog tired. And I needed a break. I needed some girl time to just sit back, relax, and talk. So we did. And typically when we have these nights out we share what we like to call our "Mother of the Year" (MOTY) stories.
"I took my child to the pool when it was 90 degrees outside and forgot sunscreen."
"I fed my child fruit snacks for dinner because I didn't have the energy to fight the battle. Or to even cook for that matter."
"I gave my child some juice in a sippy cup when we went out to breakfast this morning. The sippy, and said juice, were leftover from YESTERDAY'S outing."
(p.s. All of the above are totally true. Judge away.)
A lot of our MOTY stories stem around bathtime. Kel and I both struggle with bathtime. We are tired. Our kids are melting. And there's another element involved.
Water.
Children have an uncanny ability to ensure that the least amount of water possible stays in the bathtub. On the floor. On the walls. Up and down the door.
Somehow every night I put my children in the bathtub and walk out looking like a drowned rat 15 minutes later. And sadly (and I know we are not the only mom's who go through this) these water olympics often cause us to lose our cool a bit. See above...tired, melting, lots and lots of clean up to do.
So as I sat a few weeks ago listening to yet another story of loss, a feeling of complete calm came over me. And I told myself to take a deep breath, and not to sweat the water on the bathroom floor.
Because you know what? I'd miss the hell out of that water if it was gone.
I've had multiple conversations with friends and co-workers about how we would handle a situation such as this. And the response is typically the same...we cannot fathom a loss such as this. And you'd more than likely have to commit us.
A few weeks ago I'd heard one of the stories (sadly I can't even remember which right now) and I happened to be going out with Kelly that night. I was dog tired. And I needed a break. I needed some girl time to just sit back, relax, and talk. So we did. And typically when we have these nights out we share what we like to call our "Mother of the Year" (MOTY) stories.
"I took my child to the pool when it was 90 degrees outside and forgot sunscreen."
"I fed my child fruit snacks for dinner because I didn't have the energy to fight the battle. Or to even cook for that matter."
"I gave my child some juice in a sippy cup when we went out to breakfast this morning. The sippy, and said juice, were leftover from YESTERDAY'S outing."
(p.s. All of the above are totally true. Judge away.)
A lot of our MOTY stories stem around bathtime. Kel and I both struggle with bathtime. We are tired. Our kids are melting. And there's another element involved.
Water.
Children have an uncanny ability to ensure that the least amount of water possible stays in the bathtub. On the floor. On the walls. Up and down the door.
 |
| Post bath time giggles. |
Somehow every night I put my children in the bathtub and walk out looking like a drowned rat 15 minutes later. And sadly (and I know we are not the only mom's who go through this) these water olympics often cause us to lose our cool a bit. See above...tired, melting, lots and lots of clean up to do.
So as I sat a few weeks ago listening to yet another story of loss, a feeling of complete calm came over me. And I told myself to take a deep breath, and not to sweat the water on the bathroom floor.
Because you know what? I'd miss the hell out of that water if it was gone.
 |
| The nightly "silly face" competition. |
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Big May 5k
On a beautiful night in August of 2011, a young wife and mother from nearby Pendleton, Indiana, headed to the State Fair to see a Sugarland concert with her best friends.
She returned home last Friday. Over 270 days later.
The stage collapse at the concert made national news. I vividly remember standing in the middle of the kitchen on a Sunday morning, and overhearing something on the news about the Fair victims. I turned around to see one of the most horrific turn of events played out right before my eyes. I watched as the stage literally rocked back and forth, swaying more rapidly as the wind picked up.
And then it came crashing down to the ground.
The aftermath of that tragedy rocked our community. Lives were lost. Men, women, and children were critically injured. I had friends at that concert who to this day can barely talk about what they witnessed. They turned the horse stables into makeshift medical tents while they waited for enough emergency help to transport all those people to the surrounding hospitals.
And in the midst of all of that, this sweet young woman started the fight of her life.
Fast forward to this past week, and Kelly and I learn that the woman, Andrea, is actually a relative of a friend of ours. So when Amy told us we should sign up for the Big May 5k that was being held in honor of Andrea coming home, we were all in. And it was being held on her 31st birthday no less!
Kel brought it up to Bri, too, since Pendleton isn't too far from where she lives in Muncie. And girl was all about it. We began doing what we always do...lots of pre-race planning. But this time was different. For one, it was 3.1 miles instead of a ridiculous 13.1 or 26.2. And Kel and I were pushing the littles in the jogging strollers. So instead of planning hydration stops and pace strategy, we planned outfits draped in pink (Andrea's favorite color) and how we could make this race one hell of a memory.
And that we did...
The race organizers had originally expected between 250 and 500 people to register. 782 people walked or ran this race yesterday. To say it was a success is an understatement. This little last minute 5k we registered for turned into one of my all time favorite days.
I just kept thinking that not only was I doing something for Andrea, I was also doing something for my boys. I was making memories. So many Saturday mornings I sneak out of the house before the boys even wake for the day. And when I return from my run hours later they have so many questions. It's so wonderful to actually share the experience with them once in awhile.
And my friends? Well, they're just pretty bad ass if I do say so myself. I know for a fact that any one of them wouldn't even blink at the opportunity to go on any sort of adventure. Large or small event, we know how to bring the thunder.
Especially while wearing matching knee socks :)
She returned home last Friday. Over 270 days later.
The stage collapse at the concert made national news. I vividly remember standing in the middle of the kitchen on a Sunday morning, and overhearing something on the news about the Fair victims. I turned around to see one of the most horrific turn of events played out right before my eyes. I watched as the stage literally rocked back and forth, swaying more rapidly as the wind picked up.
And then it came crashing down to the ground.
The aftermath of that tragedy rocked our community. Lives were lost. Men, women, and children were critically injured. I had friends at that concert who to this day can barely talk about what they witnessed. They turned the horse stables into makeshift medical tents while they waited for enough emergency help to transport all those people to the surrounding hospitals.
And in the midst of all of that, this sweet young woman started the fight of her life.
Fast forward to this past week, and Kelly and I learn that the woman, Andrea, is actually a relative of a friend of ours. So when Amy told us we should sign up for the Big May 5k that was being held in honor of Andrea coming home, we were all in. And it was being held on her 31st birthday no less!
Kel brought it up to Bri, too, since Pendleton isn't too far from where she lives in Muncie. And girl was all about it. We began doing what we always do...lots of pre-race planning. But this time was different. For one, it was 3.1 miles instead of a ridiculous 13.1 or 26.2. And Kel and I were pushing the littles in the jogging strollers. So instead of planning hydration stops and pace strategy, we planned outfits draped in pink (Andrea's favorite color) and how we could make this race one hell of a memory.
And that we did...
 |
| Pendleton was draped in pink; these signs, pink ribbons, pink tshirts. Amazing! |
I just kept thinking that not only was I doing something for Andrea, I was also doing something for my boys. I was making memories. So many Saturday mornings I sneak out of the house before the boys even wake for the day. And when I return from my run hours later they have so many questions. It's so wonderful to actually share the experience with them once in awhile.
And my friends? Well, they're just pretty bad ass if I do say so myself. I know for a fact that any one of them wouldn't even blink at the opportunity to go on any sort of adventure. Large or small event, we know how to bring the thunder.
Especially while wearing matching knee socks :)
 | ||||||
Perfect Strangers take on Pendleton.
|
 |
| Love that Bri caught me mid action shot and smiled! |
 |
| Bri and her boyfriend. |
 |
| Me and Izzy girl. |
 |
Some music made it easy for the littles to dance. |
 |
| Pink everywhere! |
 |
| Race crowd. |
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Mini Marathon
Because I don't want to go back and re-hash the Carmel Marathon a second time, you can read about my experience running that race here. Believe me, it's exhausting to recap an entire race. You wouldn't want to do it again, either.
But I will recap the 2012 Mini Marathon. This race and I have a serious love hate relationship.
I ran this race for the first time in 2009, and I can't say that loved it. The course is a bit depressing (to say the least) and while running around the track sounds like a lot of fun, it's quite possibly one of the most miserable parts of any race I have ever run. But for 3 of the past 4 years, for some reason, I've kept going back for more.
I ran it in 2011 (missed 2010 because I had just delivered Jacob) and I remember enjoying the course more. The energy in Indianapolis is invigorating during the month of May, especially on Mini Marathon day. Just as my good friend, Meggie, said yesterday "One thing is for sure...Indy knows how to *%&^ing cheer!" I couldn't have said it better myself. And she is so right. There isn't a spot on the race course where people aren't out in droves ready to cheer all of us on. Now, they might be smoking...or drinking (at 7:30AM)...but they're out there. And hey, even if they are drinking, as we saw yesterday, they are at least sober enough to not throw their bottles and cans in the street and some of them even recycle! (Good catch on that one yesterday, Kel! Way to point out the positive!)
And really, would I ever give up the opportunity to spend a beautiful Saturday with my beautiful girls? No maam, I would not! So really, there wasn't any other choice but to run this race again in 2012.
But it sucked.
Was it bad because of my time? Nope. Still pulled out a 1:59 (which happens to be exactly what I have run 3 of the last 4 half marathons in, so I seem to be stuck there). Was it really cold or pouring down rain? Nope. Was it way too hot? Bingo. 65 degrees at the start line, with 91% humidity.
No thank you.
I literally hurt every single mile of this race. Meggie, Kel, my sister Betsy and I had all started together. Betsy ran the first few miles with us before realizing that we had gone out a little too fast and she needed to scale back. Thank God she did that because every runner yesterday needed to use their best judgement just to get through this race.
I stayed with Kelly and Meg until about mile 4 (I think...honestly I don't even know. I swear to you I blacked out for a bit). Kel dropped back a bit and at one point Meg asked me if I could see her. I could barely muster the strength to turn around. And all I could see was people. Everywhere. This race is always crowded but yesterday seemed absolutely crazy to me. There was never a moment during the race in which I felt as though things had lightened up and I had room to breathe. Not one moment.
I told Meg I couldn't see Kelly amongst all the people and then Meg told me she wasn't sure she had it in her to break 2:00 (our original goal). She told me that she might have to scale it back, and I knew what I had to do. I told her I had to pick it up and just "finish this bitch". No joke here, folks. This race was horrible. We shared our "I love you's" and I told her to tell Kelly the same, and off I went.
For the rest of the race I never had another positive thought run through my mind.
I remember making it to the track and honestly considering stepping off to the side of the road. I actually thought to myself that every good distance runner has to have a DNF (did not finish) right? But my feet kept going. I saw my first runner down on the track being assisted by Medics. And I cried. I cried because this poor woman was in such bad shape that someone was holding her head up while another person stayed close to her chest to ensure she was still breathing. I cried because the sun was beating down and it was ridiculously hot. I cried because all around me I could only hear (and therefore focus on) extremely labored breathing coming from every other depleted runner.
I kept looking down at my watch, expecting my pace to be somewhere around 8:30-8:40. I felt like I was really pushing myself. My body ached beyond words, and I felt like the running was so hard. Surely I had to be doing something out of the norm. Nope, not faster than usual. My watch stayed anywhere from an 8:50-9:15 the entire time. This race was just that difficult.
I honestly don't remember much between the end of the track and mile 11. Oh mile 11...
I had an experience yesterday during a race that I have never had before, and honestly pray to God I will never have again. The combination of the heat, and the fluids I'd been taking in, and the gels I was using for energy didn't sit well. And I threw up. Sick.
There was a child next to me, running without any parents or guardians (and beating me FYI) and I obviously didn't want to get anything on him. So I quickly swallowed the disgusting bile in my mouth, took another swig of water and kept running. It couldn't end soon enough.
I saw my friend, Mark, about a mile or so from the finish. He told me that I looked strong, no matter how I felt, and to just finish this thing. I listened to him. I took a deep breath, digged deep and kicked it in. I ran the final mile of the race at an 8:30 pace.
Thank goodness I knew that my friends, and my sister, and cold beer was ahead of me. I couldn't get to the post race party in the beer tent fast enough. I found Meggie first and I literally collapsed into her arms. We briefly saw Adriana next, and then as soon as we left her we found Meggie's husband, Josh. And then Christi, and Karen. Then Kel. Then Bri. Then my sister. And finally a bit later Meghan and Jake rolled in.
Yay! I was with my people again :) All of a sudden the pain was forgotten. I laughed so hard that I cried. We rehashed the race a million times seeing as we all hated it so much. We drank. We did human pyramids. Yep, there's proof...
So all in all, am I glad I did it? Absolutely. Not a lot of people can say they got up yesterday and ran 13.1 miles. Well, actually yes, a ton of people can say that. But whatever, I was one of them. And I was one step ahead of the girl that stayed on her couch. I spent time with my friends and family. I drank (semi) cold beer. I had sunshine on my face. Life was good.
And as we all parted ways and headed back to our cars, I smiled, took a deep breath and turned to Kel and Betsy.
"Hey guys? You know what? I think this is it for me. I don't think I'm going to run this race again."
Their response?
"You say that every year"...in unison. Awesome.
See you in 2013!
But I will recap the 2012 Mini Marathon. This race and I have a serious love hate relationship.
I ran this race for the first time in 2009, and I can't say that loved it. The course is a bit depressing (to say the least) and while running around the track sounds like a lot of fun, it's quite possibly one of the most miserable parts of any race I have ever run. But for 3 of the past 4 years, for some reason, I've kept going back for more.
I ran it in 2011 (missed 2010 because I had just delivered Jacob) and I remember enjoying the course more. The energy in Indianapolis is invigorating during the month of May, especially on Mini Marathon day. Just as my good friend, Meggie, said yesterday "One thing is for sure...Indy knows how to *%&^ing cheer!" I couldn't have said it better myself. And she is so right. There isn't a spot on the race course where people aren't out in droves ready to cheer all of us on. Now, they might be smoking...or drinking (at 7:30AM)...but they're out there. And hey, even if they are drinking, as we saw yesterday, they are at least sober enough to not throw their bottles and cans in the street and some of them even recycle! (Good catch on that one yesterday, Kel! Way to point out the positive!)
And really, would I ever give up the opportunity to spend a beautiful Saturday with my beautiful girls? No maam, I would not! So really, there wasn't any other choice but to run this race again in 2012.
But it sucked.
Was it bad because of my time? Nope. Still pulled out a 1:59 (which happens to be exactly what I have run 3 of the last 4 half marathons in, so I seem to be stuck there). Was it really cold or pouring down rain? Nope. Was it way too hot? Bingo. 65 degrees at the start line, with 91% humidity.
No thank you.
I literally hurt every single mile of this race. Meggie, Kel, my sister Betsy and I had all started together. Betsy ran the first few miles with us before realizing that we had gone out a little too fast and she needed to scale back. Thank God she did that because every runner yesterday needed to use their best judgement just to get through this race.
I stayed with Kelly and Meg until about mile 4 (I think...honestly I don't even know. I swear to you I blacked out for a bit). Kel dropped back a bit and at one point Meg asked me if I could see her. I could barely muster the strength to turn around. And all I could see was people. Everywhere. This race is always crowded but yesterday seemed absolutely crazy to me. There was never a moment during the race in which I felt as though things had lightened up and I had room to breathe. Not one moment.
I told Meg I couldn't see Kelly amongst all the people and then Meg told me she wasn't sure she had it in her to break 2:00 (our original goal). She told me that she might have to scale it back, and I knew what I had to do. I told her I had to pick it up and just "finish this bitch". No joke here, folks. This race was horrible. We shared our "I love you's" and I told her to tell Kelly the same, and off I went.
For the rest of the race I never had another positive thought run through my mind.
I remember making it to the track and honestly considering stepping off to the side of the road. I actually thought to myself that every good distance runner has to have a DNF (did not finish) right? But my feet kept going. I saw my first runner down on the track being assisted by Medics. And I cried. I cried because this poor woman was in such bad shape that someone was holding her head up while another person stayed close to her chest to ensure she was still breathing. I cried because the sun was beating down and it was ridiculously hot. I cried because all around me I could only hear (and therefore focus on) extremely labored breathing coming from every other depleted runner.
I kept looking down at my watch, expecting my pace to be somewhere around 8:30-8:40. I felt like I was really pushing myself. My body ached beyond words, and I felt like the running was so hard. Surely I had to be doing something out of the norm. Nope, not faster than usual. My watch stayed anywhere from an 8:50-9:15 the entire time. This race was just that difficult.
I honestly don't remember much between the end of the track and mile 11. Oh mile 11...
I had an experience yesterday during a race that I have never had before, and honestly pray to God I will never have again. The combination of the heat, and the fluids I'd been taking in, and the gels I was using for energy didn't sit well. And I threw up. Sick.
There was a child next to me, running without any parents or guardians (and beating me FYI) and I obviously didn't want to get anything on him. So I quickly swallowed the disgusting bile in my mouth, took another swig of water and kept running. It couldn't end soon enough.
I saw my friend, Mark, about a mile or so from the finish. He told me that I looked strong, no matter how I felt, and to just finish this thing. I listened to him. I took a deep breath, digged deep and kicked it in. I ran the final mile of the race at an 8:30 pace.
Thank goodness I knew that my friends, and my sister, and cold beer was ahead of me. I couldn't get to the post race party in the beer tent fast enough. I found Meggie first and I literally collapsed into her arms. We briefly saw Adriana next, and then as soon as we left her we found Meggie's husband, Josh. And then Christi, and Karen. Then Kel. Then Bri. Then my sister. And finally a bit later Meghan and Jake rolled in.
Yay! I was with my people again :) All of a sudden the pain was forgotten. I laughed so hard that I cried. We rehashed the race a million times seeing as we all hated it so much. We drank. We did human pyramids. Yep, there's proof...
So all in all, am I glad I did it? Absolutely. Not a lot of people can say they got up yesterday and ran 13.1 miles. Well, actually yes, a ton of people can say that. But whatever, I was one of them. And I was one step ahead of the girl that stayed on her couch. I spent time with my friends and family. I drank (semi) cold beer. I had sunshine on my face. Life was good.
And as we all parted ways and headed back to our cars, I smiled, took a deep breath and turned to Kel and Betsy.
"Hey guys? You know what? I think this is it for me. I don't think I'm going to run this race again."
Their response?
"You say that every year"...in unison. Awesome.
See you in 2013!
Thursday, April 26, 2012
School pictures...
Let me start by saying that we don't buy these pictures. We never have, and we probably never will. I'm sorry, but when you see what photographers can and will do for your family photos these days...yeah, you don't need to give me your fake creek and tree stump circa 1970. But I had to post these. Because really, who won't want to look back at these some day and laugh?
And can I please speak to the person who thought it was okay to give my 2 year old a comb over? I may not buy the pictures, people, but come on!
Don't worry...pics of Luke to follow.
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And can I please speak to the person who thought it was okay to give my 2 year old a comb over? I may not buy the pictures, people, but come on!
Don't worry...pics of Luke to follow.
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Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Back a lot sooner than I thought I would be...
Had to post this picture because my friends are just so lovely. And I don't want to forget how much fun I had with them at the Vera Bradley Outlet Sale 2012!
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