I promised to let you know how it went ...

When you run through water stations in the middle of a pack of 45,000 people, you get a little dirty from discarded cups and banana peels …I ran my second-ever marathon yesterday.  It wasn’t one bit the race I’d hoped and planned for, and by far the hardest race I’ve ever run.  In my neatly-planned life list, the “sub-four-hour-marathon” box is still unchecked.  It may very well remain that way forever, I don’t know.  All I know right now is that yesterday wasn’t to be that day, not from the get-go, and that I gave it every single ounce of my energy, and then many more, and came up with a 4:13.  I am content.  A bit disappointed, yes, but I know I could not possibly have tried harder. 
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In a mood

Why onions? Dunno. Liked the picture, and suits my mood somehow. Spicy and likely to make people around me cry … I don’t know what’s up with me today.  Once again I stayed up too late, so 6 hours of sleep didn’t quite cut it.  I’m running a lot lately, dealing with a UTI at the same time, and need more sleep than normal.  I’m not getting it.  Late nights means lateish mornings, and we all get off to a slow start.  This time of year I need to be in the sunshine every second it’s available, or I crash and burn into a slow depression that goes on for months.  It’s not pretty.  This year it seems to be hitting earlier than normal, which has me a bit freaked out as it’s not even November yet!  I think it’s time to do some writing again, in my journal, and vent some of the stuff I’m stewing about under the surface.  Isn’t it crazy that as moms we take care of everyone else, but somehow getting to care for ourselves is a luxury?  So stinkin true lately. 
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I'm not regretting it ... yet

Maybe homeschooling has changed me more than I thought.  Yesterday I lugged the boys downtown on the bus, to stock up at my favorite two stores in Bklyn, Sahadis and TJs.  As always, I bought more than I could really carry, and ended up staggering back to the bus with a loaded backpack and two shopping bags, barely able to hold Fynn’s hand.  As we approached the bus stop, we passed the usual row of street vendors, hawking everything from workbooks to cell phone covers to silk shawls. I ignored them all, but managed to catch a glimpse of a small stack of clear plastic containers with neon-colored lids, each housing something that looked like a wee turtle. 
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An Open Letter to Myself Ten Years from Now (by Darah)

Dear Self,

I know you are overwhelmed. Caring for five young children, maintaining the house, launching a new career, being a wife, friend, and daughter — all in a day’s work — is grueling. Your eyes are always bloodshot from the chronic sleep deprivation and the dark circles cannot be masked with any amount of concealer. Yet, believe me when I tell you this: you will yearn for these days ten years from now.
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The Catchup Post: Or What I've Been Up To for the Last 2 Weeks

Another gorgeous FL sunset I’m back at my computer again, in a relatively quiet house.  That means only one boy is wailing, trying to finish cleaning up his desk before the timer goes off.  The other is outside with Dad, and supper is marinating in the fridge.   That lasted all of 5 seconds, until the wailing one finished his job more or less, and wanted it checked.  Such is my life!

This morning got off to a very rough start, as hubby and I were out very late, celebrating our 10th anniversary! 

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Tranquility Can Be Found in the Oddest of Places - All You Need is to be in the Right State of Mind (by Darah)

Peace and tranquility can be found anywhere and is in the “mind of the beholder.”

Each year I get an MRI of the brain as a follow up to my surgery. I had this done the other night. I scheduled it for the end of the evening so I could first get everything done for all the little and big people in my life.

It was 8pm and I was waiting in the MRI Lounge enjoying a good read in a national magazine when they called me in.  As usual, by this time of night, I was weary and drained from all that tending to five young children entails.  Nonetheless, the technician started to prep me about taking off my jewelery, removing all metal objects, how to breathe, how to stay motionless, composed, etc.; I knew the drill.  He was assessing my mental state to ensure that he wasn’t going have to sedate some frantic claustrophobic once shoved inside the tunnel for a solid hour.
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In the Zone

I do miss the midwestern sky I grew up with … I came home from vacation determined to stay calm.  I was reasonably relaxed, though stiff and sore from sitting in cars, strange beds, long runs, and too many restaurants.  We’d done the usual “clean up while packing” frenzy that I’m prone to, as I hate coming home to a mess-strewn house.  So we returned to a never-this-tidy apartment, and I put stuff away as soon as possible. 
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Q of the Week : When do you let yourself ask for help?

At least they sometimes help each other … The wording of this question is the key.  When do you allow yourself to ask for help with things?  I’m betting it’s more complicated for some than others, and I’m currently scrambling to get things done before leaving on vacation but have yet to ask for much help.  When will I think it’s ok?!  I hate obligating people, or being in their debt (yes it’s part of my control issues!) so I always prefer to do it myself if I possibly can.  I like helping others though, so why would I assume they enjoy doing the same?  Riiiight.  Silly question. 

So, when do you ask for help, and with what?  Please share!

Why I'm Not at BlogHer 10, though it's in my backyard

Image Courtesy of Mrs. FireMom on FlickrI like being a part of things.  Big things.  I like to feel needed, useful, important, and sure of my position.  I grew up with these things as part of my daily life, thanks to the church I was raised in.  I knew without a doubt who I was and what I stood for.  Those feelings have faded as I’ve gradually, slowly, and painfully separated from the church, and while my faith is still strong, my identity is not. 
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Keeping it real

I had a crappy day today.  It wasn’t anything in particular, but rather a venting of pressure from some things I’ve become aware of but haven’t yet found a way to change.  I’ve done a ton of journaling in the last 6 months, had a few very vivid dreams about my life path, and have pinpointed some specific things I’d like to change my perspective on.  Another way of putting that would be “I’m therapist hunting, and options are limited with a miniscule budget.” I haven’t felt very sane at all, with piles of riled up emotions looking for an easy outlet.  One friend challenged me tonight to write my next newsletter on being an InSane Mom … not a bad idea! 
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Friday Roundup ... Feelings anyone?

Image courtesy of MrClean1982via Flickr. CCI’ve noticed something in myself in the last week, and now that I’m aware of it I can’t stop feeling it … I dramatically hunch up my shoulders when I feel any tension whatsoever.  It’s completely unnecessary, explains why my shoulders are usually as hard as rocks, and makes me look like I’m, well, tense!  I had no awareness of how literally they were raised until I caught myself doing it this week.  Where do you hold your feelings? 

This realization may partly have come from reading an article by Annie Fox this week, which I strongly related to.  It’s called A Little Breakfast and a Big Lesson in Emotional Intelligence, and it really hit home for me, as it talks about hiding your feelings. Please go check it out!

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Embrace the Resistance (by Darah Z.)

If you’re a runner or a cyclist, you’ll be able to relate to this well.  Have you ever begun your run or ride and realized immediately that you were working so damn hard and making little progress?  You feel yourself exerting tons of energy and yet, the wind resistance is so unrelenting that you struggle to advance anything.

At this point you begin to question your ability to run or pedal and start eyeing your watch.  You entertain thoughts of returning home to an obscenely oversized bowl of ice cream and call it a day. 

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Digging Deep

I’ve been doing a lot of digging lately, deep into my guts where there are things buried that I haven’t even thought of in years.  Things that were more than I could bear to process at the time, so I stuffed them in.  I didn’t even realize it until a friend challenged me to write about some of the things that make me frustrated and angry.  I’m that way a lot more often than I realize, and it’s been a hard thing to acknowledge.  Trying to get to the root of what makes me feel that way has produced some surprising results.  I found blanks in my memory that shouldn’t be that way, and it hurts to dig into why.  I’ve been raw, and feeling some delayed emotional reactions to things that happened 10 years ago and more.  I referred to the cycle of things awhile back, and it’s nice to know I’m not alone in it all.  We all have our rough spots, and this is one of mine. 
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The cycle of things

You know how women who live together, or spend a lot of time together, end up on the same moon cycle?  It’s rather baffling to me, but it’s always held true in my life.  It seems that life in general works that way too, and we go together in waves of being up, down, in crisis, and cruising right along.  When school is wrapping up and summer heat is kicking in, stress rises in general and I think it’s hit me, as well as a lot of my friends.  It appears to be time to dig into emotional subjects and issues, guilt ourselves, stress ourselves, and work out some thorny bits of life. 
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Q of the Week : How noisy is your life?

I live in a city, a big city, and it’s pretty hard to find quiet here.  My neighborhood is remarkably quiet for the density of people around me, but it’s nowhere near acutal quiet.  I grew up in a pretty background-noise free home (no TV, minimal radio, normal-voiced conversations) in a suburban environment.  Being in the flight-path of O’Hare airport made up for a quiet-ish house, however, and I only found real silence when visiting friends in the country.  Clock tickings and crickets were about the only sounds at night, and it was almost too quiet for me to sleep! 
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Tip Tuesday : Be Honest

This might range all over the place, but bear with me.  First off, it’s rather obvious that honesty is better than lying, especially in the long run.  We’re going through a time with my eldest where he’s tried lying to cover things up, and it’s backfired in several cases.  He’s finding that hiding the lies is harder than bearing whatever consequences there are for telling the truth.  Whether that lesson sticks or not is up for debate. 
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I would like to take a sick day, please?

Oh that’s right, moms don’t get any.  No such thing as calling in sick on the mothering duties, is there?  If you’ve got regular care lined up that’s somewhat of a break, but there’s still pickup and dropoff to contend with … it pretty much sucks either way.  I’m just wallowing in a vat of soggy kleenex, feeling sorry for myself during this 3rd day of parenting while dragging my aching self around.  I want a day off!!
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Project Crazy

I’m a sucker for projects, and feel a bit lost without one in front of me.  I think it has something to do with feeling useful and productive and all that, but it’s just how I am.  I HAD to make something this week, something new and mess-producing, so I whacked together a bench for our back porch out of old plywood and 2x4’s, and got the kids to help me paint it today.  Of course it involved power tools and a 3-year-old, which isn’t necessarily a good combination!  Danger (did I mention the 18-inch-high wall around the rather small porch, and the fact that the boys and I were all working on projects simultaneously that involved hammers and nails?) aside, I had a ball.  I think they did too, if the amount of red paint I scrubbed out of hair and off skin tonight was any indication.  It was a project!  It had a handy, colorful, fun result!  I got to cross something off my list, and feel creative to boot! 

I vacillate between wanting to always be busy, and then getting frustrated if I take on too many projects at once. 

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Life is like a box of Crayons ...

… you’re never quite sure what colors you’re going to need.  I have a lot of friends.  Some I’ve had forever, some for years, some for a day ore two, and they’re all important to me.  I tend to turn to certain friends for certain things.  I don’t usually call my childless friends to ask for parenting advice, or to my newest friend if I’m having a meltdown about my day.  I often feel drawn to specific relationships depending on what I want to talk about.  Some relationships are easy, the conversations range over absolutely everything, and the silences are golden.  These are the crayons stubs disappearing into the bottom of my precious box of 64, with the paper torn off and nary a point to be found.  Well used, well loved, and still colorful. 
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