Love.

Love is sitting in your car for 1 hour because your precious boy is napping in the back seat and you know that he'll wake up if you try to move him.

Of course, my sacrifice is somewhat diminished since I live in Florida (not Alaska) and I can access my home's Wi Fi connection. Plus, I have an iPhone, which provides endless hours of entertainment. Seriously though, I would be sitting here even without Wi Fi or an iPhone or even if I lived in Alaska because the thing that no one tells you about motherhood is that you would do most anything to make sure that your little love is happy/rested/content.

16 Miles And Counting...

I ran 16 miles this morning. I was afraid of that distance all week, but I decided to get out there and pretend that I ran 16 miles all the time. You know what? It totally worked. I breezed right through it and if I wasn't sticking to a specific training plan, I would have absolutely kept going to 18 or 20 or however far I got until my legs gave way.

Right now, I feel like I can do anything and that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm training for a marathon. I crave this feeling. It's my drug and by the end of the week, I'll be ready for another dose of it. I feel powerful and invincible. I feel like climbing a mountain, or cleaning out my garage - equally daunting tasks.

Instead, I'm going to take a scalding hot shower and eat a cranberry walnut bagel (with butter) and drink an entire pot of coffee. Then, in about 6 hours, I'm going to soak my feet in an ice bath and pray to the good Lord that I don't lose another toenail. Oh well, even invincibility has it's drawbacks.

Sugar High

Before:



During:



After:



Oh my.

Day at the Museum

I recently bought our family annual passes to the local Children's Museum. I thought that it was time for Parker to be exposed to science and art...plus, it's a place that he can run around like a maniac when the weather is bad and we're going stir crazy in our house.

So, Meg joined us as we set out on our maiden voyage to the museum. Parker is definitely into touching things, so this type of hands on setting is perfect for a curious little boy like him and even though he's still small, he didn't have any difficulty interacting with the exhibits.



Here, we're pedaling (ok, I'm pedaling and he's supervising my progess) to generate enough watts of energy to run certain household appliances. The faster you pedal, the more power you generate. I'm wondering why they don't have generator-bikes on the market for the general public because I would definitely buy one for the house. "Alright boys, you can't have dinner until you generate enough energy to start the oven!"



And here, Aunt Meg is hoisting Parker's considerable weight, while he's (again) supervising.



At this particular exhibit, you could replicate a hurricane. May I bring your attention to the adoring look on Parker's face? Yes, he certainly had enough of mom that weekend and was thrilled to have someone else to interact with. He also insisted on holding Meg's hand the entire time we were outside instead of mine. He certainly is learning at a young age how to work his way into a girl's heart. I'm pretty sure that Meg would have taken him home that day.



And here is my alien child. I was actually quite terrified by this exhibit (my worst nightmare!) so we didn't go into it, but Parker looked cute peeking through the sign. I'm still not sure why they would have a Roswell exhibit at the Children's museum (shudder), but fortunately it was tucked out of the way. If you are reading this without a clue as to why I'm so freaked out, trust me, you really don't want to know.



I had to post this picture simply because I got yelled at for taking it by some 18-year-old who thought she was guarding the Mona Lisa. Plus, it shows all three levels of the museum.



Finally, here are some other random exhibits that I couldn't figure out, but Parker instinctively knew what to do. I'm sure that there's merit to the theory that people lose intelligence with age. I'm definitely dumber than a 5th grader.

Football Season

Football season is a very busy time of year for us. Florida State plays on Saturdays and the Redskins and Steelers play on Sundays (or Mondays). The Irishman and I have a silent feud over which NFL team Parker will support. As a baby, he had both a Steelers and a Redskins bib, but the Irishman's recent trip to Heinz Field greatly expanded Parker's Steelers wardrobe. Yup, the Steelers definitely loom larger in our house, (aided primarily by the Irishman's sheer volume), but I have a plan.

If Parker is anything like I was growing up, he will move in the exact opposite direction than you want him to. And when he rebels against the loud, garish Steeler gold, I'll be waiting in the wings with a viable alternative - my beloved Redskins. We don't run around flaunting our Superbowl victories and we prefer to use gold as an accent color. Besides, I've always been a fan of the underdog and I have a feeling that Parker will too.

My other advantage is that our house is 100% Florida State, so if we can succeed in making him a Florida State fan, then the Redskins would be a natural extension (same theme, similar colors...) To that end, Parker has a Florida State jersey and the Irishman has arguments with himself as to whether Parker will be a quarterback or a wide receiver. Little does he know that I'm pretty sure Parker is genetically predisposed to be a swimmer, which I might add, results in far fewer sports related injuries and cardiac arrests for the parents who have to watch.

Of course, only time will tell what sport Parker will end up playing, but in the meantime, he looks awfully cute in his jersey.

Freezing My Tail Off...Literally.

Hi folks. Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I was in St. Louis last week for a criminology conference. I have lots of pictures to post from Parker's tiny birthday party and a trip to the museum, but while I'm working on editing those, I thought I would write about what's been most on my mind...freezing weather!

When I checked the temperature for my run this morning, I cringed when I read that it was 34 degrees outside. So, I promptly layered on my short-sleeved shirt, long-sleeved shirt, jacket, gloves, ear muffs and running tights. I stepped outside and it was so cold, I still felt like I was in my skivvies. This was not good.

I drove down to the track with icicles for fingers willing my car to warm up and wondering if I've completely lost my mind. Most sane people, I was sure, were still tucked into their nicely heated homes snoozing away for at least another hour or two. I, on the other hand, was making my way to a pitch black running track. My crazy theory was confirmed when there wasn't a single car in the parking lot. Yup, I was the only crazy out this morning, but at least my friends were going to join me.

When they showed up, I felt much better. Misery loves company and we were a chorus of groans and complaints as we walked to the other side of the track. We left all of our layers on as we started our warm up, but slowly, we started peeling layers off one at a time until, at mile four, I was running in a short-sleeved shirt and gloves.

It's amazing how quickly your body warms up. It equally amazing that you forget this fact every single time you head out for an early morning run. I'm half convinced in the ride over that this particular time, I will not get warm. I will run with chattering teeth and numb fingers cursing the first time that I ever laced on running shoes. Thankfully, that's never happened and the bigger concern is making yourself pile on all of your layers after your run so that you don't catch a chill on the way home.

What's funny though is that, while your muscles warm up, your fat cells never do. It has something to do with the fact that blood does not circulate as well through fat as it does through muscle. So, without fail, I hop into a searing hot shower after my run and feel as if my backside (the largest deposit of fat on my body) is frostbitten. This process invariable serves as a reminder that regardless of how fit I think I am, there's always room for improvement.

Happy Birthday Parker!!

Wow, I can't believe that today is Parker's 2nd birthday. It seems like yesterday that I was checking into the hospital. Like most surreal events, I remember every detail of his birth so clearly. I thought it would be fun to post his birth story here along with some pictures of his first days, so I dug up the original birth story I wrote just hours after his birth. Happy reading!

11/11/2006 - We checked into the hospital at 5pm for our planned induction. The previous Wednesday, we had an ultrasound at 40 1/2 weeks that estimated Parker's weight at 9 - 9 1/2 lbs. We agreed that it was in Parker's best interest to induce at 41 weeks. The last thing that I wanted to end up with was a C-section. The doctor inserted the Cervadil at 7:30pm and we settled into the hospital for a long night full of monitors, fluids and shuffled trips to the restroom. I didn't sleep at all.

Waiting to check into the hospital.



One of my many trips to the restroom.



11/12/2006 - The Cervadil fell out by itself at 6am and the OB decided to start the Pitocin at 7am. I began having regular contractions immediately, but they were not very painful. At 10am, the OB decided to break my water, which really increased the intensity of the contractions. In all honesty, if felt like someone was hitting me in the back with a sledgehammer (not that I've ever experienced that, but you get my point.) The worst part about the contractions was that I didn't know how much longer I had to go through them.

I labored without any drugs until 4:30pm, when the contractions began coming every 90 seconds and were very, very painful. The most difficult part of the labor process was deciding to get an epidural. I had really wanted to complete the childbirth process naturally, but those Pitocin contractions were excruciating and combined with the fact that I had intense back labor, I could not relax enough to allow my cervix to dilate rapidly. When I received the epidural, I was 5cm dilated. About an hour later, I felt like the epidural was wearing off on one side because I began to feel the contractions again. When the OB checked me, we were all shocked when she said that I was complete and I could start pushing.

The high risk team was already planning on being in the room due to the fact that there was meconium present when my water was broken, but when I started pushing, their presence was necessary because his heartrate began dropping drastically. We all got a little scared because we knew that he was distressed in the birth canal and the OB told me I needed to push with everything I had to get Parker out because he wasn't doing well in the birth canal. So, she gave me an oxygen mask and needless to say, I pushed with all of my might and he was born less than 20 minutes (and three pushes) later at 6:02pm. He was 9 lbs. 2 oz. and 20 1/2 inches long at birth. He is absolutely perfect in every way and we couldn't be happier! Happy Birthday Parker!

Just minutes old!



The Irishman meeting Parker for the first time.



24 hours old.





Man, how tired do I look?



Ready to go home!



All in all, this was the most incredible experience of my life. Happy birthday Parker and thank you for letting me be your mom. I love you.

Feline Ingenuity

Luna is quite the petite feline. She weighs in at just over 7 lbs. and as a result, she is always cold. You can always find her curled up in a cat bed or on a throw blanket, but lately, she's discovered a new source of warmth. The laptop computer.



If the laptop isn't on, her next choice is the cable box. She also likes to lay on the counter top above the dishwasher since the granite gets pretty warm when the dishes are drying. Yup, she's pretty clever. I think she gets that from me.

Public Service Announcement

Well, I knew that it was only a matter of time before Parker was influenced by his "friends" at his private school, but I thought that we had a couple more years before I had to worry about this particular problem....Gang Activity.

I present to you exhibit A.



Please notice the one pant leg pulled up (South Floridians, I need your help. Which gang is it that lifts the left pant leg?? Never mind, I'll ask my inmates.) Also, he seems to be flashing a double "C" sign with his hands. That can't be a good thing. Are his eyes squinted? Could there be possible drug activity out on the "yard?" He is with the 2-3 year olds now and you know how older kids are these days.

I think that the Irishman and I are going to have to have an intervention. I guess I'll go dig up my "Say No To Gang Activity and Drugs and Tobacco" book and prepare my talk ahead of time. Take this as a lesson folks, it's never to early to talk to your kids about joining yuppie, private school gangs.

Making Strides

Well folks, today I completed my longest run to date - 14 miles. The first 11 miles were pretty easy, but the last 3 really took some grit to get through. I just kept telling myself that it was just a little bit farther. While I'm marginally daunted by the thought that I still need to muster up an additional 12.2 miles over what I completed today, it wasn't too many months ago when 7 miles seemed like a great feat. With this in mind, I know I'll get there.

As always, the game plan is to take it one day at a time and to take each run one mile at a time. When you breakdown any seemingly insurmountable obstacle into small parts, it's easier to stick with it. Another trick is when you feel yourself starting to mentally give in, just try to get to the next light post or street light. Baby steps - they work! And when they don't, you just have to dig deep to find out what you're made of. If you can get past those moments of self double, I promise that you'll come out on the other side.

I'm sure I posted it here before, but one of my favorite quotes from Moliere is this:

"The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it."

As I sit here and take an assessment of how I feel, I don't think that I'm doing too bad, all things considered. I have my full lung capacity back and it's amazing what a difference that makes. I've taken breathing easily for granted my whole life, but I can tell you that it's no fun to feel like you're going to fall over or pass out with every stride. My muscles feel a little fatigued, but still functional. Almost all of the pain that I have is skeletal, primarily in my feet and ankles. I did go ahead and schedule a massage for tomorrow because I have a feeling that getting out of bed tomorrow morning is going to be a delicate and painful process. You want to know a secret? I love that feeling. I love knowing that I've pushed my body to the limit and it didn't let me down. I love knowing that it's capable and strong and dependable. When I finish my runs, I always say a heartfelt thanks to my legs for carrying me the distance, even though I'm pretty sure it's against their will.

Living History

I have to say that I'm not quite believing that America has finally elected an African-American President. For the first time in a long time, I'm completely speechless. With racism still rampant and profiling a very real thing, it is with hopefulness that I view our country's future. Regardless of whether you agreed with Obama's politics or not, yesterday was historic.

Watching the Today Show this morning and seeing the reaction of the world, I am relieved. Relieved that maybe we will once again be a beacon of progressiveness and prosperity for all of the countries less fortunate than we are. Relieved that we will no longer be viewed as tyrants who impose our will on others. With tears in my eyes, I watched Israel, Iraq, Afghanastan and Africa rejoice in this changing of the guard and for the first time in eight years, I exhaled and felt that everything might be ok after all.

Election Day!

I've always been into politics. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that my parents have watched World News Tonight every day since I was born. We would always talk about politics and my parents would set me straight when I made incorrect assumptions about the process. For example, when I was in first grade, I was under the impression that the loser of the Presidential Election became the Vice President. You know, kind of like a consolation prize. I'm still convinced that it's not a halfway bad idea, but what do I know.

Anyway, I always got excited around election time and this year is no exception. As I was driving back from my morning run around 6:30am, I noticed that the parking lot of our voting precinct was empty. The Irishman had just woken up and was stumbling towards the shower when I accosted him.

"There isn't a line yet! Put on a sweatshirt and a hat and head down there right now! If you wait until after your shower, you're going to be in line forever. Hurry, go, I'll watch Parker!"

And I shoved his keys into his hands and sent the poor unsuspecting soul on his way. I'm sure that he was feeling kind of foolish in sweats, flip flops and sleep in his eyes, but I wanted to make sure that he had a chance to vote. This is the part where I tell you that I have no idea who my husband voted for. He never tells and I never press him on it. I'm just glad that he participates in the process so that Parker will grow up with the same awareness that I did.

So, after the Irishman made it back from voting and got showered and I sent him and Parker off to work and school, I got a book and set off for the precinct fully expecting to stand in line for hours...and was in and out in under 30 seconds. Now, all that's left to do is to watch the results come pouring in tonight! I'm just praying that someone concedes tonight and that the election doesn't end up dragging out.

Mule Day

Every year, we drive up the road to Calvary, Georgia to attend Mule Day. Mule Day is no other than a celebration of mules. Yes, you read that correctly and no, it isn't a tiny country festival. Tens of thousands of people attend Mule Day every year. They have a mule parade, mule contests and even a mule beauty pageant. It's random, I know, but so much fun!

I didn't get to take that many pictures at Mule Day for two reasons: (1) I was too busy chasing Parker around. That child is in a stage where he just wants to run free as a bird. Unfortunately, in a crowd of thousands, all I see are numerous pedophiles and child abductors just waiting to snatch him up. I'm pretty sure that my level of paranoia is limited primarily to criminologists, but I'd rather be safe than sorry; (2) Mule Day is a cash only event and while I put all of my cash in my back pocket, I then proceeded to change jeans. Sigh. I never used to be this scatterbrained, but it seems to be a permanent affliction.

Anyway, here are the pictures that I did get this year at Mule Day.

I guess these are mules, but they look a lot like regular horses to me.



And this one looks a lot like a donkey.



This definitely is not a mule. I'm not sure exactly what to say about this picture. I do feel sorry for the pony...or is it a little horse? Does anyone know the politically correct term to use for this particular animal? I would hate to be offensive. Thank you.



Here's the Irishman and Parker checking out the mules, horses, donkeys and little horses/ponies.





There was another military helicopter there so, of course, Parker had to get in it. I let him try on the hat, but I stopped short of letting him handle the semi-automatic weapon they had on display. Call me crazy, but I think that two is a little young for firearms.



Finally, there was a man (or woman?) dressed in a lion suit. Parker went running over to him (her?) and would not leave. He was hugging the lion and petting the lion and, as evidenced in this picture, roaring at the lion. It was very cute.



The great thing about Mule Day is that there's always another one next year. If you happen to live in the North Florida/South Georgia area, I highly recommend going out there and experiencing all that Mule Day has to offer.

Halloween

Halloween is a conflicted time for me. I love the holiday itself (pumpkin carving, dressing up, chocolate!), but I don't particularly care for strangers coming up to my door. I don't like answering the door in the best of circumstances and when it's a bunch of teenagers dressed like mass murderers, well, I'm a little freaked out. So, I generally make myself scarce and let the Irishman do all of the door answering. Listen, I never claimed to be well-adjusted or normal. Having a child old enough to trick or treat, however, allows me to enjoy the best of Halloween without having to deal with my xenophobic tendencies. I was therefore thrilled to take Parker trick or treating this year.

We let him pick out his own costume and it was no surprise when Thomas the Tank Engine was the one he picked. Parker isn't usually a fan of hats, but he knew that the conductor's hat was an integral part of the costume so he was all about looking the part. Here we are outside prior to leaving for trick or treating. Please notice the matching bucket that he is carrying.



I decided to get into the Halloween spirit this year by dressing up as well. I was initially planning on being Cleopatra, but I waited too long to get my costume and they were out. So, I decided on a Greek Goddess costume instead. (No, I don't think this is what Greek Goddesses really wore and yes, I did change before we took him around the neighborhood.)





The first house was a comedy of errors on Parker's part. First, he tried to go inside. Then, he tried to take the entire bucket from our neighbor. We explained to him that you say, "Trick or treat!" and then "Thank you!" but he generally skipped the trick or treat part and lunged for the candy instead. He did get the "thank you" and added his own "bye-bye" along with it though. He was definitely a hit with our neighbors who don't get that many little trick or treaters. Oh and he wore that costume for a good hour after we got back. I'm just glad that he didn't decide that he wanted to sleep in it.

It was a lot of fun seeing him participate in Halloween and you better believe that I'm excited to see how much fun he has at Christmas!