Whatever.

Today my co-workers gathered to celebrate the life of our friend, Ed, who died earlier this year.  He was 48.  (One of the many reasons why January and February sucked-ass this year.)

This past week was Ed's birthday and it was decided that we should gather today to be with his wife and daughter.  The weather was forgiving: partly cloudy and warm.  Co-workers discussed their summer adventures, some lamenting that only a month remained. Kids shared toys willingly.  Adults sipped iced coffee while passing babies.

ONE of Ed's favorite sayings was: "Whatever."  (Emphasize the Boston-ish/Southern NH accent: so "Whateva" but say it as you exhale.)  In fact, this saying was so well known that it was on his obituary card.

Ride home from BBQ:
-Why did we go to the BBQ today?

Well, my friend died and moved to heaven. So today we were getting together with his friends and family so we can be together. (It was his birthday this week and that must suck.)

-Why did he move to heaven?

Because he got very sick, very fast and his heart stopped working. (Heart attack)

-Why?

I'm not sure. 

-Maybe he should get a new heart.

Gut Punch. (Please anyone change the subject)...

....Because sometimes it's not as simple as whatever.  Sometimes, its admiting that the way he lived his life was an example to us all.  He was kind- and for him it was effortless to serve others.  He helped others in their precise moment of need.  Precision is a crucial component to kindness.  I think that's what I learned from his time on Earth....because if you offer to help when it's too late, that's not helpful.

I know if he were to read this he would make fun of me and call me a something slightly offensive.  So I'll stop now.

Run strong. Be well.

There is one week until the 2014 Boston Marathon.

Last year the hubs ran the course in 2 hours and 43 minutes.  Praise God.

...He was in the car with his parents, starting to drive away when the bombs went off.  I was already back at my parents house in New Hampshire with mini #1 and napping (due to incubation of mini #2).  I had no idea what had happened.  His sister called me in a panic.  Then the hubs called me in a panic and asked me what had happened.  Confused, I got out of bed.  My mother and I turned on the tv and we saw the aftermath unfold.  Then the phones stopped working.


Here is my angry/sassy letter to the marathon bombers: 

Dear Assholes,

     I am not a hateful person, but I really think you are the devil.  If you or any of your wannabes steal my husbands joy again...so help me, I will lose my shit.  The most beautiful day..was sullied by your bombing bullshit. Injuring innocent bystanders.  Creating a cascade of panic.  Phones blocked, roads blocked and people scattering.  Joy, stolen.  

     Hours of pounding pavement.  Commitment to training schedules, strategic pacing, practicing preparing pre-race meals.  Joy, stolen.  

Not only was joy stolen from runners but joy was also stolen from their family and friends who made sacrifices of their own to see their loved ones realize their dreams.  

F you.  

Here is my joyful letter to runners:

Dear Runners,

Goodluck.  However you don't need luck-because you have been running for the last several months.  You deserve joy on this day.  Do not run in fear.  Run strong, be well.  Let your love be genuine, hate what is evil and cling to what is good (Romans 12:9).  Realize your dreams.  Thank God and your support system who helped make it happen.  Go get em'.  Ooze joy.

Love,

Me.

Moms on the Run

There are just about 10 weeks in this plan:

Couch to 5K Plan

Dear self: Get off your butt.

annnnnnd there are about 10 weeks until this road race: (which I am signed up for.)

Moms On the Run 2014

Run to your mom.  Run away from your mom, 

run because you are a mom or want to be one, 

or want to pretend you aren't one for 30-40 minutes.

Everyone's Story Matters.

Recently, our entire family has been obsessed with the book: The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore.  

Thank you La-la for the super cool book! 

This book is elegant in its prose and in its illustrations.  I also realized upon the 1000^th time reading it that it is riddled with symbolism.  At least I felt this way when I was grasping for straws to cope with the unexpected death of my neighbor and co-worker. I felt it was a perfect allegory for death and the peacefulness of the ascension into heaven.  

                 

Normally, I GREATLY DISLIKE euphemisms. I just want to roll my eyes and yell: "Tell it like it is!  Be real! Use the correct terminology! Stop sugarcoating things!"  Well, predictably having children has softened my rigid heart of stone. 

(Since neighbor Al died, I am much more open to euphemisms because I needed to explain to Mini #1 where Al was.  I feel it has been more challenging because Al was not that old.  He was not noticeably ill and he was still out and about around the yard when the weather was nice.)

In the book, Morris Lessmore was a young man who was wandering aimlessly when he found a comfortable niche as a caretaker of books in a library.  In his free time, Morris wrote in his own book.  Each day "he wrote of his joys and sorrows, of all that he knew and everything he hoped for."

One day, Morris “wrote the last page in his book.”  The books were sad, but they understood.  It was time for Morris to move on.  

                                                                               *****

Dedicated to Al and Eddie, who wrote the last pages in their books.  May you be peacefully drifting through the sky carried along by a festive squadron of whatever makes you happy. 

Upon further investigation - this is not at all what this book was intended to be about.
However, this book brings me peace  and it's my blog... so "whatever"

Saving Face

I come from a long line of practical- no-bs- French Canadian women....with bitchy resting faces.

Ladies, we suffer in silence no longer.

Win/Lose and Draw: Why I am SO over January and February

Here it is an airing of grievances about the months of January and February.  My hope is that after this bitchfest summarization of a post, that I can "get over myself" and get back to my regular scheduled blogging.

1.) I returned to work.  I love my co-workers, my students are nice and after 9 years of teaching, I don't have a lot of stress about school, prep or anything like that. #WIN. WIN. WIN.

2.)  It took me a month to complete any and all assorted paperwork that accumulated during the time I was out on maternity leave. #DRAW.

3.)  My neighbor died.  Neighbor Al was 58 years old.  He lived with his deaf, senile, elderly mother.  They used to argue loudly.  Now there is a bizarre silence at the house.  When we saw the body bag removed from their house, I was hoping that his mother died, because well, she was old. Not so much it was Al.  #LOSE. LOSE.

4.)  Then about a week later, my friend/co-worker died.  Ed was 48 years old.  He was literally love with work boots on.  We were scheduled to go on a yearly gambling trip together in two weeks with other co-workers.  I was really looking forward to it.  Our school community and actual community are still in shock.  Totally unexpected and craptastic.  # LOSE LOSE LOSE.

5.)  Our house caught the plague.  We tried to avoid it...but...it is basically unavoidable.  Daycare is like a petri dish.  So that was two weeks of mini-human grossness.  Whatever. #Draw

6.) We are not sleeping.  Still.  It got to the point that it was so bad, I didn't even want to talk about it, but then I felt like I had to talk about it (so to explain, my momnesia and my glazed over look.)  Finally, after process of elimination ( amber necklace, gas drops, elevated crib, sacrificing a live chicken) we determined that mini #2 had essentially a 3 week DOUBLE ear infection. #LOSE.

7.)  It takes mini #1 like hours to settle down for bed? By the time he sleeps, mini #2 is awake again.  Did I mention we are not sleeping? # LOSE.

8.)  About a week ago, the hubs and I went to Sugar Loaf mountain to hang out with friends and ski and board.  It was awesome and we both slept 8 hours in a row, two nights in a row. We also go to hang out with two other couples that make up our "Seacoast Family".  #WIN WIN.

9.)  We have an army of help.  During the ski weekend in which mini #2 was screaming every time she was put down and mini #1 had quazi decided that he wanted to be potty trained....my parentals and my in-laws manned the ship of crazy.  I am not sure what we would do without them. #WIN WIN

10.)  It won't stop snowing and our snow blower is broken and we are in a polar vortex half the time so playing outside is virtually impossible which leads to excess energy and as a result...no sleep. #LOSE.

Well if you lost interest in my list of lamo complaints, I don't blame you.  I think I lost interest too/accidentally fell asleep.

Here's to a better March.

Please DO NOT update your address book.

The Hubs and I purchased our house October 31 of 2009.  So this year marks the 4th anniversary of receiving Christmas cards from people who think David still lives at our address. We look forward to them each year and I refuse to correspond to tell these lovely people otherwise.

A classy picture card.  Very enjoyable! No idea who these people are.

Believe it or not...this is the "classiest" card we have ever got from them.  

You CAN'T make this stuff up!

Incase you can't see the card well it says:   Happy New Year to our BUDS, while holding cans of Bud Light.
Faces have been covered by opaque purple ovals to protect the absolutely ridiculous.

Pinch the Fat

I have a dear friend who I am in constant contact with.  This is not an exaggeration (That's why it is italicized, bold faced AND underlined.)  We call each other almost every day on the way to work (at 6 am).  We email. Text. Send snail mail.... and of course visit in person.  We never seem to tire of knowing the meaningless details of each others lives.  During our ten years of friendship we have also pinched the fat.

Yes, you read that correctly.   She has on several occasions pinched me with weird caliper things to determine my percentage of body fat.  At 21, I thought pinching the fat was funny.  At 31, the thought of pinching the fat is horrifying.

Um...this is pinching fat? 

Never the less, Starting this past Sunday I began my never-ending-quest to be healthier.  My dear friend is the administrator of a cross fit/paleo eating challenge.  I will bravely enter my measurements into a google form once a week and submit whether or not I ate "clean" or "cheated."  I will also submit my time for a 1 mile run and 500 yd swim since I am not a cross fit girl.  

I want this change in my health for me and I want to be a good role model of health for my children.  Hopefully these changes will become habit and they will never remember the woman who ate her feelings and downed boxes of junior mints followed by a large ice coffee chaser.

Hopefully I will be able to visit dear friend in person sometime soon.

Unfortunately/Fortunately dear friend reads my blog.  I am almost certain she will bring the calipers to pinch the fat.....

**Wish me luck!**

The Calm Before the Storm.

Truth Statement:  I like working.  I like my job.   I think teaching is hilarious and kids make me laugh everyday.  I am NOT destined to be a full time domestic engineer.  Also, it was a huuuuuge relief getting paid yesterday for the first time in months.

In that direct deposit moment, we went from One Income, Two Kids - OITK, to Two Incomes, Two Kids.- TITK  Phew. I love coupons but I do not love using the magic money card - neither does the hubs.

(To think that some people are DINKs or OINKs...One time, I went to visit my friend in Miami for the New Year, about a million years ago, and I realized that he was in a relationship with two other men.  Triple income, NO KIDS! TINK! Ahhh, I digress.

I was scheduled to go back to work today. So yesterday looked something like this:

image provided by NASA.  Crazy provided by massive life transitions.

The morning of New Years day felt like the calm before the storm.  We started at a friends house with a pancake party to ring in the new year!  Fun.  After the party, I started to prepare the minis for daycare and myself for work.  #1 mini has not been to daycare for about a week since his uncle was visiting.  He started screaming when I mentioned that tomorrow would be a "school day."  #2 is only 4 months old and she is starting daycare for the first time.  She just stared at #1 mini like he was a lunatic.

I hyperventilated throughout the afternoon; sterilizing bottles, labeling items and counting things repeatedly.  Admittedly, my emotions were all over the place.  I was joyful, frantic, tearful and exhausted.  To add to the anxiety of the unknown, there was a storm brewing.  A literal two day snow storm.

I have been teaching almost 10 years.  The trick with snow days is this: if you plan a lesson and set your clothes out, then there WILL be a SNOW DAY.  It almost always works.

As the evening slinked on, I obsessively checked the temperature and the humidity and the local weather station for cancellations.  I took cleansing breaths as I comforted #1 mini while he screamed MAMAMAMAAA! for 45 minutes and watched the video monitor waiting for #2 to wake up.  I was twitching and in bed by 8:30.  I mentally prepared a lesson.  I visualized a happy day.  At 9 pm, I got a call from a co-worker.  It had been declared a SNOW DAY: THURSDAY AND FRIDAY! Huzzah!

I turned off my hideous 5 am alarm.  Huuuuge relief.   I continued to do the momma thing: waking up, rubbing backs, sucking snot, changing diapers and I knew what to expect in the morning.  Then another amazing thing happened.  Daycare was miraculously OPEN.

So now, I sit at Starbucks as the snow accumulates, skinny peppermint mocha in one hand, curriculum in the other and I will lesson plan until March.

Happy Coffee, Happy New Year!

Not Sorry, "just sayin'"

I have several high quality girlfriends.  For which I am extremely blessed.  I have to say we work hard at it and at this point in the game, with mini-humans and partners, we do a pretty good job.  We are in contact fairly often and see each other about once a month.

One of my dearest friends had recently lost her father to cancer...#sucktastic.  Since we have been friends for decades, I feel her feelings.  I want to absorb them and take all her grief away.  She is that amazing friend, you know the one you can sit and be quiet with?  They are the best.  Sip tea. Stare at each other.  Just be and not have to fill the air with emotional chow chow because you know each others shit.  Why chatter about it if you are not in the mood.

Well I visited her home recently and much like when others visit mine, you feel the need to apologize...am I the only one?  At this point it is a habit.  A bad habit.  "Oh, I'm sorry my house is a mess (even if I cleaned furiously beforehand).  Oh come on in, don't mind my smelly dog.  Oh sorry, ignore the dishes." blah blah blah verbal vomit. fake apologies.

When I entered her home, we exchanged loving hellos and then she said, oh geez, I didn't even ____________  (fill in the meaningless house work chore.)  Then she stopped and checked herself and then declared with a sly grin, " No, you know what, I am sorry that I am NOT sorry."

I LOVE a good truth statement.  We hugged even tighter and didn't say anything, just laughed.