Showing posts with label Adventures in Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adventures in Parenting. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Backwards in time


It should be no kind of secret to anyone who knows me, reads this blog, or follows me on Facebook that I love many things, but I especially love history. Living as I do in central Virginia, I'm pretty much in the cradle of the beginnings of this country. From the Jamestown colony, to Colonial Williamsburg, to the American Revolution, the writing of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the White House, the Civil War, and many, many more of the most significant locations, houses, battlefields, and events of American history exist within a day's or less drive of my house. I've been to many of these places, but a significant amount of time that has passed since I have had a chance to visit many of them again.

It's spring break week here, and with three kids, I like to plan at least one structured activity or day trip for the week. We tend not to travel much, so day trips are perfect. The original plan was to go to Washington, DC, about two hours away, and visit a couple of the Smithsonian museums, a place very dear to my heart. Alas, the fickle spring weather in Virginia wasn't conducive to a fun trip. Instead, we opted for a trip closer to home, to Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson.



TJ's place is situated on over 2,000 acres on the top of a small mountain just outside of Charlottesville, Virginia. We opted for the guided tour of the house, but toured the grounds and gardens ourselves, maps in hand. Noah was especially enamored of the map and took great care to make sure he knew where we were, and compared it to the illustrations on the map, at each stop we made. He loved it!


The view is stunning, even on a cloudy, cool, and otherwise dreary day. Our guide told us Jefferson had no outbuildings built at Monticello so he would have a completely unobstructed view from the house.



All the dependencies are built into the terraces under the house -- the kitchen. smokehouse, stables and carriage house, house slaves' quarters, and storage rooms are underneath wings of the house. The vegetable garden is immense and beautiful, as well as the vineyard and berry patch. Behind the house, the west lawn is expansive and bordered with tons of flowers -- tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths now in the early spring. The kids were all over the place, loving the peek into the kitchens and other dependencies, especially those with artifacts like dishes and bottles and sewing tools.




Inside the house, no photography (as with most house museums), so I can't share the wonderful things inside the house. Jefferson truly was a genius, in the layout and decoration of his home. Floor to ceiling windows, alcove beds, and huge skylights in octagonal rooms were my favorite. The details are simple and amazing, even down to the molded friezes over the doorways. His dining room is Mars yellow, a shockingly bright color that makes the room just glow,`and the tea room off to the side, surrounded by windows, is where I would spend all day, if I could. Our excellent guide told us that 60% of the furniture and artifacts in the house actually belonged to Jefferson, including some of his books. Oh! The books! Two shelves of his own personal books, plus hundreds of others that were of the era. Shelves and shelves of books in his library. And all I could think as I walked through the house was, Thomas Jefferson actually lived here, walked here, held these books, slept on this bed, wore these riding boots, sat in this chair....




And his books and papers, things he actually touched, silhouettes of family members that are hanging still on the walls in the South Square Room, it makes me want to see everything they have in the collection. I know because I work in a museum that there is so much more not on view to the public that is held by the Monticello Foundation and in the Thomas Jefferson library. Can you imagine? Ledgers for the farm and plantation, recipes, correspondence, sketches...I could sift through the papers and artifacts for days without getting bored. Our tour guide was really good, and I soaked in all the information he was telling us, and his enthusiasm for the place and the stories, and I just felt so happy. One of my favorite things about working at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts is getting to tell people who come on my tours all about the history and the stories behind the works of art. I would love to teach in a house museum, too. I think I love material culture and archival 'stuff' -- papers, photos, other ephemera -- as much or more than I love the artworks. It's the stories about people and how they lived and who they were that fascinate me.


Some days I know I really missed my calling. I should have gone to library school, or gotten the history degree I had planned on. I would love nothing more than for my second career to really be about my passion for preservation and history and the stories of the people who came before us.

I hope I at least pass on some of my interest in history to my kids.


Monday, May 26, 2014

SO Much Awesome

Last weekend, Wren participated in the county's club archery tournament at the end f the indoor archery season. She's been struggling with even hitting the target at her distance (I think 18m), not to mention handling the bow and getting the correct shooting posture and sequence. It doesn't help that she is literally the smallest kid in her club, either. She started the season trying to shoot the recurve bow like her big sister, but was convinced by the archery coaches that going with a Genesis Mini compound bow would be a better choice at this point. There were lots of tears and some stomping around about that, but once she hit the target a couple of times, I think she was convinced.


 So when she entered the warmup phase of the tournament, and failed to hit the target with any of the eight arrows she shot....well, the disappointment was evident on her face. However, she has never once thrown a fit or gotten overwhelmingly upset about her difficulty, not the entire season. It's odd to me, since I know she is very aware of what the other kids are doing, and she is definitely the type of kid to want what others have. My job, though, was to stay supportive, tell her I knew she was doing her best, and....just tell her how much I loved watching her shoot. The more I thought about it, and watched her, the more I realized just how amazing she was....not getting upset, just hanging in there and getting back up to the shooting line, time after time after time. Being happy for her small successes ("hey! It bounced off the ground and hit the target!"), and just enjoying the activity. I didn't teach her that, I don't think. She just came to it, enjoying an activity she has wanted to do since she saw the movie, 'Brave'.



It was impressive to watch that afternoon, her 'try'. And she was handsomely rewarded for it, with this:


A bullseye. Amazing. 





Her reaction was priceless (STUNNED!!), and even the parents around us cheered for her. Just a wonderful end to the archery season for her.
 Wren's coach, Melody, takes her picture with the bullseye shot!

And Wren happily tells her scoring partner that, yes, she DID shoot that arrow!

She also managed to earn her 'archer' rank patch, and that really motivated her to keep going. I'm so proud of her, not for the bullseye, although that was great, but for the quiet persistence she showed even in the face of failure. For repeatedly getting her bow and arrows and stepping up to take another shot, for assimilating as much coaching help as she was able to (which wasn't always much, she's 8 after all), and for trying to apply it to the next shot. For not getting frustrated, or wanting to quit. I'm so proud of her for all of that. I admit I didn't expect it, and I am thrilled to see that this orientation exists in her.

It's an understatement that sometimes your kids surprise you.


Monday, January 13, 2014

Monday


Good morning.

Start of the week, quiet in the house, and I should be working, but instead I am thoroughly basking in the silence. And the distinct possibility of finishing my cup of hot coffee while it's still warm.

That almost never happens.

Travis is still in NC with his mom, who is having back surgery today (get well, soon, Joan!). I'm already doing the juggling for the next couple of days to get everyone where they need to be, and meet the obligations I need to meet. Can't wait til he gets home. Everything is better when he's here.


Monday, December 9, 2013

Christmas Bird

Today is Wren's eighth birthday. Seven pounds, seven ounces at seven in the evening on December ninth, 2005.


It's been a heck of a ride ever since.

I think the best part of parenting this little girl is seeing the incredible creativity and energy that pours out of every fiber of her being. Sometimes it's like lassoing a tornado, and the challenge inherent in not stifling the best parts of her while guiding her on the path she is on is a huge one, but we'll make it. Pressure creates diamonds, right?

Well, this one is going to sparkle with the fire of a thousand suns.


I think she already does.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Of Mice and Men

I see that I have not updated this blog since the end of September. Wow. I love to write, and I hate that I have not been writing. Well, I *have* been writing, just for various other outlets and requirements.

The autumn season at our home has been the exemplification of "the best laid plans....".

I had hoped the spend the fall working, and riding, and making things. Getting into a routine of daily life that was, if not predictable, at least regular enough so as to be manageable. Doing research on a sculpture in the museum that I was going to be giving a talk to the docents about. Planning Halloween costumes, and getting Christmas shopping done early.

Right.

Well.

School started, and while Noah had a completely seamless transition into the rigors of full-time public school, complete with bus-riding and cafeteria lunches, Wren struggled mightily. Still is struggling. Kira, on the other had, had the best-ever beginning of school -- making A's in five of her seven classes, getting her work done and on time, answering my daily "How was school?" question with "It was great!" more often than not. A *major* change for her, just major. We even attended an admissions evening event for her first-choice college -- The Savannah College of Art & Design -- and the admissions administrator, an animator by training, loved her work. Amazing.

Then, about mid-October, the hard-won joy and progress was shifted when Kira was the victim of ridiculous policies of the high school and the school system. I don't want to go into it here, because we are still in the process of making the issues known, and I'm sorry for being vague. Suffice it to say, the next six weeks were among the most stressful I have experienced in the last ten years. Filled with emotion, and discussion, and meetings, and decision-making. It affected everything about my life from that day to just about this one. It ruined her hard-fought grades, and shifted her motivation.

I thought about turning to my blog, to air my grievances, talk, write, and get it all out of my head. But I wish to move cautiously, judiciously, in matters concerning my daughter -- all my children -- and thus, left it out of this corner of cyberspace. I know you understand.

We celebrated Noah's sixth birthday earlier in November. I'm a convert to having kids' birthday parties outside the home, now, after several years of throwing two parties almost back to back, two weeks before Christmas.

I still cannot believe my sweet baby boy is six years old. And an elementary school kid.

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and we were so thrilled to be able to celebrate it (on Wednesday night, as is our custom) with my Dad! I think it's been at least ten years since I have been able to share food around the table at the holiday with either of my parents, Kira's schedule with her father being what it has been. The table was full, our hearts were overflowing, and the food, as always, was spectacular.


I even found linen napkins the perfect shade of gold to go with my inherited (from Travis' grandmother) china. We have been pretty happily eating leftovers for the past few days.

I can't believe it's December already, either. Wren's birthday is up next, with a party at the Richmond SPCA. Tomorrow I am giving a talk at the museum in the docent's training session about a beautiful German Gothic sculpture. I'm really looking forward to it for a number of reasons, and the act of doing the research and learning the things I needed to learn has sparked many trains of thought for me. Sharing that is a separate post, I think.

I have not been riding nearly as much as I had hoped. Not even weekly, which disappoints me and makes me sad. It can't be helped, though, as I have so much work to do, and the additional issues this fall just prevented me from making it out to the barn regularly. I hope I can remedy that this winter into next spring. Same with running, which has been as irregular as ever since the summer. It's been hard not being able to throw myself into these pursuits, but other things have had to take priority, unfortunately.

My goal is a horse trials in the early spring, and possibly the Disney Wine & Dine Half-Marathon in the fall of 2014. We'll see.

Of course, I had a riding lesson scheduled for this morning, but I managed to get sick over the weekend, and riding in the below-freezing temps before a week of critical work is probably not a great idea. Sometimes being a responsible adult really does suck. You know? I'm staying home, instead, while Travis takes Wren to the barn for her lesson this afternoon. I think I'll probably sew, and study my paper for tomorrow's talk.

And relax. I need it.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

August

The summer will be over in less than two weeks, and the kids will be back to school and the Brandel household will resume its typical nine-months-out-of-the-year schedule.

This part of the year causes me much angst, sometimes, as I want the summers to be full of fun experiences and relaxing good times for our family, but most of the time, I feel like I fall short. I work at home/from home, and I have been very, very busy for several months. This did not abate into the summer months, and try as I did to lighten the work schedule, it just wasn't happening.

We spent a lot of time near computers, but we also visited the library often. We watched movies, but we also went to the pool several times a week (unless it was raining!).

I taught Wren to ride a two-wheeler recently, so we rode bikes, but not as much as we could have. We didn't travel, really. There was quite a lot of running back and forth to the office, but also quite a lot of running back and forth to the barn. I much preferred the barn running.


Wren AND Noah both rode in horse shows, and we did get to the drive-in at least once this season.



Kira has had a few happy weekends home, this last just so full of bubbly teenager life that I hated for her to leave. She's at the beach in Maryland now, hopefully enjoying time on the beach with her cousin and riding her bike all over the place.

I thought, this afternoon when we went to the pool for a little while, that it actually has been a pretty good summer. Yes, my work was relentless and took up way more time than I wanted it to, and no, we didn't travel or do a whole lot of big-deal things, but we spent time with friends, relaxed as much as possible, and did have fun! That's really what it's about, anyway.

And thanks to my mom, Travis and I got to run away to the mountains for two nights and go camping and canoe eleven miles down a section of the Shenandoah River. That was fantastic (and worth an entirely separate blog post).

I'm really looking forward to the kids starting back to school -- this is my first year where they all are in public school -- but the summer has been fun and pretty much what a summer should be like.

I do need some solitude and quiet, though. And the ability to work without constantly being interrupted. Soon.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Friday things

We're going camping!!

...well, Travis and I are.....



Three weeks left of summer vacation. I know the teenager is OH so thrilled about that. Three more years, and she is done with required schooling, although *I* require she continue her education in some way.

Today will likely involve some shopping for school supplies. Kindergarten and second grade this year, and tenth, but I have learned never to buy everything on the list for grades above 6th. They never use all the supplies, and Kira prefers her own methods of organizing, no matter how inefficient I think they are.

...sigh....artists....

The kids probably need some clothes, too. And shoes. I'm contemplating letting Kira loose at the mall with some money and her best friend, and instructions to buy a few pairs of jeans and a couple tops. She hates clothes shopping as much as I do.

I feel like I am in a holding pattern of some type, waiting for some kind of avalanche or epic event. My head feels too full and my hands feel tied, and forward progress is either nonexistent, or infinitesimally slow. End of summer? The period of time that precedes change? That frustrating plateau that you live on right before you make the next great big leap?

Who knows?

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Post-Show Glow

The little schooling horse show we took the kids to on Tuesday night turned out to be an awesome experience.
Champ and Lily and Gabby

We did get there with plenty of time to spare, and got a good parking spot right near the ring. Lots of time to unload and tack up, do a little schooling, and relax before heading into the ring. Hooray! Just the way I like it!

The Hunter's Ridge kids and ponies!

Noah took his first blue ribbon in the leadline class (and so did the other six kids, but hey, it's leadline!). The look on his face was absolutely priceless when the 'ribbon girl' came to hand him his very own horse show ribbon! "And it's the color I wanted, too!"


He had a hard time waiting outside the ring for people to finish schooling so the class could start, and he declared, "I don't wanna ride! You wanted me to ride!" We all laughed and reminded him that he cried at the last show because he could not ride in it. Upon entering the ring, though, he stretched up tall, held the reins, and looked around...."Ooh! I *like* this!"


Wren...well, she had a lesson that morning, and was spectacular. She was determined to trot, and she did, bolstered by her incredible performance on Sunday (which I did not yet write about) that included trot circles and taking her pony over the tiny cross-rail in the indoor ring. Such bravery as I have not seen from that child in a long time.

But it got better.

At the show, I had registered her to participate in the leadline class, and the walk/two-point class only. No trotting, as she was not solid yet in getting her correct diagonal, and also had not even trotted her pony all the way around the ring at our trainer's barn. Given that you should show your horse at a level below that which you school at home, it was a good idea not to push her. The ring at Summerhill is huge, and there is lots of space for an energetic show pony to get wild ideas about going faster.

But after the walk/two-point class (she placed third of five), she was DETERMINED to enter in the walk/trot class. She begged. She swore she could do it. Kathy and I relented. She went in. Travis took up his spot on the rail and took pictures.



We held our breath. Wild Wings the Show Pony definitely knew her job. She got a little quick at the trot in one spot, but Wren was on it, and things were under control. She didn't always have her correct diagonal when posting, and she didn't use and maintain her space in the ring well, but she accomplished something HUGE.

She decided being afraid of this was for other people.


Now she's making little jump courses for her play horses, and talking about all the fences she will do once she can canter. I may have encouraged the creation of a monster, but I don't care. She told me after her lesson on Tuesday morning that she wished she could just keep riding and didn't have to go in.

I am so proud of her.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Third

He is small, but growing, into a little boy with the colt-like legs and the rough and tumble way of moving from one place to another that occasionally results in a faceplant on the floor.

Still little enough to hold my hand everywhere we go, he hangs on to me at night, telling me stories about his day, or random bits of information he feels a burning need to communicate. "But I have so much to tell you, Mommy!"

He stepped into a new preschool halfway through  last year, with just about no hesitation and no negative thought. None of the girls' worry -- will they like me? Will I have friends? Will I be okay all day?
He has never been that self-assured before, ever.

Last week, I put him on the school bus for his first 'big-school' experience -- a summer school-readiness program for rising kindergarteners.

After three children, this I know is true: once they enter school, the years flip by with increasing speed, blurring from one to the next like a time-lapse video. One day, you are snapping a shot of a shiny new kindergartener proudly wearing his backpack and carrying a new lunchbox, and then like magic, you look through the lens of your camera to find a young man in a cap and gown.

He is fascinated by the way things work. He identified the mechanics of a car seatbelt buckle when he was four, and has created large Rube-Goldberg-esque machines in the living room that he pretends can make coffee, or ice cream, or dispense any manner of toys or books or other trinkets.

He is starting to read. He can do some simple math. He questions everything, and wants to know how all the machines work. He is constantly chasing, and failing to catch, his big sisters.

He wants so badly to be big.

But he climbs into my lap when I sit on the couch, or the porch, and he slips into my bed in the dark early-morning and pets my arm or touches my cheek. He wants to be with me wherever we go, or he wants to go nowhere and stay at home all day.

He is my last, my baby, and the little boy I didn't know I wanted so much.





Saturday, June 15, 2013

Bring it on, Summer!

Summer has officially started here at the Brandel Circus. All three of the kids are out of school now, and we have shifted to what will be the schedule for the next two and a half months.

(I still can't believe Noah is starting kindergarten in the fall.)

We've been getting ready for summer for a while, finding all the fun outdoor toys, stocking up on bubbles and water balloons and getting a new lawn sprinkler. Soon, we'll join the pool, and then the fun really begins!


(I have got to get Wren a better-fitting bike helmet...)


Noah is attending a Kindergarten Readiness camp at the elementary school starting July 1, so in two weeks, my big boy will already be getting on the bus and riding away from here to start his own adventures. Kira will be off to her dad's house for the summer next Friday (boo! We miss her when she's gone!), and Wren and I will probably be at the barn most mornings while Noah is at school. We don't really have any travel plans this summer, what with the horses this summer, and the big trip to Miami last year, and the potential for a Disney vacation next year.

I'm hoping for a July schedule that involves getting to the barn by 8:30 at least three days a week, helping Wren with Gabby (groom, round pen, tack, ride), and then getting in a ride on Champ before heading home to get Noah off the bus at noon. After that, pool time! We'll have to fit in other barn time on the weekends or in the evenings, because Travis has already bemoaned the lack of built-in Turkey time for him. I anticipate much library time, and computer and Wii time, too. Summers are very HOT in Virginia, and I can't say I love being out in the heat of the day.



My kids are predisposed to love books and learning, so I am not too worried about "summer slide", or whatever they are calling it these days, but I am considering making some sight word flashcards for practice with Noah, and getting some math facts cards for Wren. Noah started reading a couple of months ago, and while he is not proficient, he is definitely ahead of his level already, and I'd like to build on that a little.

Somewhere in our schedule, I need to find time to work.

Maybe some day trips will be part of the weekend agenda, maybe we will go camping at the state park near our house. I definitely want to hit the state park's water playground.

I think it's going to be a fun summer.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Pondering

So, things with Champ haven't been going well, and I have given him a vacation from our partnership. It's been two weeks, and I rode Landie and Promise in my lessons during the time off. I think this week, though, is when I am going to get back together with Champ and see what we can do. I'm planning to do some bareback riding, maybe round-pen or lunge him, and take him out to graze where the good grass is. We'll see how things go. I am adjusting my expectations downward for both Champ and for advancing my riding skills this summer. I think I'll work on my horsemanship, stable management, and helping Wren with Gabby instead, because I want to, and because...well...I don't really have a choice. We haven't won the lottery yet, so no farm of our own, and so I can only do so much in terms of horse-having.

My trainer gave me an option to lease Promise instead, but that would be more money than we are paying for Champ right now, and Promise is so very green. She really needs the work I am sure I could put into her, but I can't afford half the board and farrier PLUS Wren's pony.

I would love to figure out a way to own this place, which just happens to be right next door to our trainer's barn. It's about twice our budget, though, so no chance of that happening, unless we won the lottery or had some wealthy benefactor. My trainer says it would be fantastic to make a cross country course through the woods there, linking with her property's course. I agree.

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Today's barn trip was so much fun!
Turkey got a bath and a haircut, and so much love. I think he was happy. I know Travis was happy, and I can't tell you how full my heart is for the man I adore who, just one year ago, was afraid of horses and would have nothing hands-on to do with them. Now, he brings in horses from the field, can tack and groom, bathe, pick feet, and hand-graze them. I am so proud!


Poor Turkey is SO HOT with all that mane and forelock. It's awful. He lives outside 24/7, so making him as comfortable as possible is a good idea. I shaved his face a little, and then started working on roaching his mane, which has nothing to do with nasty insects and everything to do with a good haircut. He has so much hair, I couldn't get it all done in the time we had today, so I will finish up this week and post a picture of the results. After his bath, he just gleamed! He seemed so happy and comfortable! I sprayed him all over with some fly spray, put some fly repellent cream in his ears, and we took him back out to his pasture. He is beautiful.

It really makes me sad that his owners don't come to visit him, or ride him, anymore. I wish we could have him. If we had a farm and didn't have to pay board, we'd take him in a hot minute. Still, it makes me happy that we care for him as we can.

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I haven't run for 18 days. I couldn't stand reading the posts from my friends who are all out there exercising and running....the competitive me couldn't take it anymore, and since resting my going-numb-when-I-run feet wasn't doing anything, I took off for two miles this morning. I always know when I haven't been exercising regularly -- I get a little out of breath climbing stairs, I can't hang on to the canter as long on my horse -- but when I haven't been running, WELL...I can tell. I can tell because when I get out there, the fat on my middle-aged ass jiggles and bounces along behind me like ill-fitting saddlebags.

THAT is NOT acceptable. Nor is it attractive. I'm only willing to give in to being middle-aged but so much at this point.

So, I'm back at it, at least until I am told otherwise. Going to keep the daily mileage low -- 2 to 3 miles, max -- until my orthopedist appointment in a few weeks. Then we'll see what I have to work with.

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Work is eating my soul, and also all the extra time and energy I have to be creative. It sucks, but it's enabling the horse stuff, so it's a catch-22. I haven't been able to make anything of substance in a very long time, and I believe my Muse is about to throw one epic tantrum. I also don't think it's possible to work fewer hours and get the work done on time, so I am stuck. The summer is going to be very, very tricky in terms of getting the volume of work done in the time that I have, given the kids will be home with me most of the time. I see quite a lot of evenings spent in my cubicle at the office, with the cleaning folks. Ugh.

I can't really complain, though. I have a good job, and I think I work for someone who values my work, although it's hard to tell at times.

At any rate, there's a thunderstorm tonight, which means I am putting Wren back to bed over and over until she finally decides to fall asleep. I think I've convinced her to stay in her room, though, so I'm going to grab myself some porch time before it gets too late.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

On Ponies and People

It's starting to feel like a Norse saga, this quest to help Wren learn to ride horses.

Series of scary falls this winter = slightly fearful-in-the-saddle child. Venerable pony who teaches all new little kids passes away in March. A few weeks later, new ponies come who can teach the little kids to ride. Wren falls in love with one of them, an aged paint mare who is super-quiet, and clearly knows her job. She even halts square without being asked. Wren is delighted. Wren decides we will buy said ancient pony and build a barn.

Wren tries to ride in the small barn show this past weekend, but can only muster the courage for two classes and the vaulting. She rides Champ in one class (and freaks out afterward and has to put Champ away), and then is persuaded to ride Candy (aged pony mare) in the Trail class. She vaults on Beau, the 17h Belgian Draft gelding, and gets anxious and cries when she sits on a pony and walks around. I know this is a phase -- she loves horses probably more than I did at her age -- but it's sad and frustrating and disheartening to watch your child struggle this way.

And then. And THEN, the twentysomething year old owner of said new ponies (and two other horses) defaults on the co-op boarding arrangement she had with our trainer, and has to come and take her ponies back. So now there are no dead-quiet ponies to ride.

Now we are struggling with the decision to buy a quiet, older pony for Wren to learn on, or just tough it out and see what happens over the summer with the school ponies that are already in the barn. Ancient pony, Candy, is twenty, and needs some groceries and some care, but seems otherwise healthy. She certainly knows her job. Check out this square halt in the Trail class on Sunday:


Seriously. I mean, look at that.

We don't know what to do. I asked our trainer for her input and advice, so I am waiting to hear back from her on the subject. Summer's coming, which should easily equal more time out at the barn, riding, for both of us, but it's such a big risk, I feel almost paralyzed by the choices and options.

And, then there is Boston.

As a runner, and a parent, and a spouse, and hell, as a person in the world, I am beyond appalled by the horrible acts of deranged people. I have crossed the finish line of a few races, including the Monument Avenue 10K, which regularly has tens of thousands of walkers and runners. Crossing that line was one of the most exhilarating, empowering, emotional experiences I've ever had. I can't even fathom what it would be like to forever have the terror of a bombing attached to that experience. When I went out for what ended up being a fairly crummy run last night, it was all I could think about -- what it was like to run for miles, and then, come within sight of the finish, people cheering, your friends and family cheering, waiting to fold you in their arms and celebrate a significant accomplishment with you...and then to have it all taken away by horror and pain and destruction wrought by some bottom-feeding asshole with fucked-up internal wiring.

I thought about the thousands of runners who were competing in their first Boston Marathon who didn't get to finish, who were stopped a mile or so before the end and told the race was over, because of aforementioned Bottom-Feeding Asshole. Or the people who will now never run again because BFA fixed it so they had their legs blown off while watching and cheering from the sidelines. Their legs. When they went down to watch the runners, they had their legs, and they used them to get to the best vantage point for watching the finish. And then, by 3pm, they were amputees. I can't even...

And that one, completely devastated family whose father/husband ran the marathon, and who has now lost a son, and has a daughter and wife/mother critically injured, and a daughter who witnessed the horror.

I am so very tired of horrible people. I am so very tired of people sometimes.

I wonder what races and sporting events will look like now. Will I have to forgo my husband and kids cheering for me from the sidelines at the finish in order to be safe while I compete? What will we do as a society about whatever is causing people to lose their minds and inflict this kind of craziness? What IS causing this sort of thing to happen?

Conspiracy theorists and tea party people need not comment. There's nothing you have to say that I am willing to listen to.

I guess for now, the best thing to do is.....carry on. I am pledged to run 26.2 for Boston, and my goal is to complete that as quickly as possible without injuring myself. I think it will take me two and a half weeks, tops. I'm not going to stop running. Or riding, or going out or being at concerts or fairs or street festivals or sporting events. To do that gives the BFA's of this world power that they are not entitled to.

Tomorrow, I will run.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Kindergarten


Yesterday was our school district's kindergarten registration day. Noah is now five years old. He will be starting kindergarten this September.

I'm not sure I am quite fully cognizant of the fact that in a few months, I will be putting my youngest child on the school bus every morning with his sister.

I will be the only one left standing in the yard, waving.

As much as I protest, I know I am ready to move to this next stage of life -- with all school-aged children. They will all have the same days off, the same schedule (essentially, except for the teen), and I will no longer be paying for preschool tuition. Wow.

I worry about my baby, though. He's so precise, so routine-bound, so very smart in a different way than his sisters. I wonder if I will have three children for whom traditional school is a bit of a struggle. Or will he thrive in the structured atmosphere? Will he enjoy school, or will he be bored?

Will he miss me?

Actually, I think he will be excited, but apprehensive. I think he will find his niche, and some friends, and be happy. He has grown from a relatively insecure, change-fearing child into a little boy with more social reserves than I thought he had, who is actually ready to try new challenges and be in new places. He has always had strong language skills, and strong analytical and visual-motor skills, but now he is really starting to shine.

A few weeks ago, he explained to me how the seat belt latch in the car works. "It has a spring in it, Mommy, so when you put the buckle in, it snaps and holds it there".

Oh. Why, yes it does.

I am looking forward to a more regular schedule, with more time in the day for me to do the things that I need to do and want to do -- my day job work, touring at the museum, riding Champ. I won't have to plan everything to happen between the hours of 9am and 1pm so I will have enough time to get home for some lunch before running to the preschool to pick him up. The bus will drop him off in front of our house, with Wren, every afternoon.

I imagine he'll come running, like Wren does, backpack flying, straight into my arms.