thanks peach

i can always count on georgia to lighten my mood. always. except between the hours of midnight and 6 am at which time my mood is on 'irritated' if im awake regardless of who you are. last week as a result of a routine check up at the eye doctors and not so routine appointment at the pediatricians office for 14 consecutive days of green snot, we were booked for both appointments with an hour and half between them. so doable, but not so much fun as i have become completely insane with the kids touching things in public places (i blame the media for my swine flu paranoia) and i have taken to hand sanitizing them at minute intervals in every waiting area imaginable. first up was the eye doctor where we were quickly ushered back from the waiting area with windows and armchairs (and finding nemo on the tv) into the dimly lit exam room with thousands of dollars of breakable eye equipment and one big chair that incidentally goes up and down if you dance around the pedals long enough. not a huge deal, we were after all the first appointment past the lunch hour (score!) and both kiddos are typically pretty awesome at this kind of thing. pretty awesome for awhile. not so awesome for an HOUR. no joke.

within the hour, we had successfully given the exam room an extreme kid makeover complete with 233 cheerios on the floor, an elmo phone, a sippy cup and several pacis, all of which i was picking up, wiping off and handing back to the bored lump while simultaneously trying to pick up the shower of cheerios and hide the evidence we had broken the absurd 'please no eating and drinking in exam room' rule. i was mildly distracted (read all but standing on my head to keep jack happy) when gk gets my attention with, 'mommy, the chair is way up high.' why yes it was. way up. as in i thought we may have broken it for a brief minute until gk showed me how to make it come down. apparently we had been in there long enough for her to learn the ropes on some of the equipment. im guessing a few more minutes and she could have given herself, jack and i all a thorough eye exam. so, an hour into it with me now sweating and swaying with the 25 lb jack in my arms while ripping open every fruit snack in my purse in an attempt to make all the eye crap seem less tempting to the peach, id had enough. as in...so sick of practicing my patience i could just about scream. and then i made a huge mistake. i opened the door. the one that they close immediately after putting you in there. the one that provides a layer of protection between you and them when youve had enough of the insane wait time. the one that offers an element of privacy and mystery while your left there to simply check your watch and count the minutes until you hear the footsteps finally stop outside your door and the chart finally get picked up and then...then the door knob turns and you are seen at last!! well...i opened the door. when my look of 'please help me, im dying in here with the little people' didnt get anyones attention, i started walking down the hall toward the waiting area. i had the appearance of someone just venturing off a deserted island where there was plenty to eat but the conditions were brutal. as we turned the corner into the bright shiny happy waiting area that now smelled like freedom, gk yelled, 'they have nemo out here!'. yes, gk, they do. but we have a really expensive chair that goes up and down...isnt that fun?

at this point there is no one heading my way with a life boat or cocktail and i reluctantly head back to the exam room where we happen to pass the good doctors office. where his door is open. where he is on the phone. scheduling a TEE TIME for the upcoming weekend. it is on. we get back to the cell and wait another five minutes until the doctor finally joins us. he was so chipper, probably imagining the fun hed have on the course in a few quick days while we on the other hand were now resembling survivors of some horrible experiment where they put you in a room full of germs and crap that could cost you money if you break it with little light and nothing to do with small children by yourself for over an hour. and for added fun, they add in loads of snot dripping from the children. nice. anywho i explain in the nicest tone i could find (which is always fast and unnaturally high pitched when im hiding my livid side) to the tiger woods wannabe that i would love to chat but we now had 15 minutes to make it to our next appointment to check on ear infections, pneumonia and other fun stuff. he kindly rushed through his exam, kept the dumb jokes to a minimum and assured us the peach is doing quite well. as he was turning to leave he tells gk 'goodbye' at which time she says, 'goodbye. now we're going to see the REAL doctor.' he mentions that he is in fact a doctor. she laughs. literally laughs and says, 'no, i mean the doctor doctor. the one who makes me feel better.' normally i would have corrected her. normally i would have fallen over myself with some witty explanation. not after an hour. nope. this time we just left it like that and headed toward freedom on the outside of the exam room.

the perfect time

so ive been waiting for the perfect time to blog. to throw something out there that might let all 4 of you know at least one of the countless blog worthy experiences ive had over the last 6 weeks. let me know if you figure out when the perfect time is. as of right now, i have laundry in the dryer, laundry on my dining room table, a baby covered (its even in his ears) in pasta sauce and a 3 year old spinning in circles until she falls down (at which time she sheds a quick tear, grabs a boo boo buddy and begins the process over again...the intellectual curve is beginning to even out). from where im typing i can see no less than 3 dust bunnies, a to do list that now includes showering and a menu for thanksgiving that needs some tweeking. ive got $100 for the first person that can cross my living room floor without tripping, falling or slipping on any number of choking hazards laying around left by two very inquisitive children...who prefer taking EVERY item they own out first and THEN deciding which ones they dont want to play with...preferring instead to head butt furniture and empty kitchen cabinets. so the perfect time continues to elude me, one minute, one day and finally one month at a time.

and its not that i dont have something brilliant to share (although that information is unfortunately jammed between the song 'i know an old lady who swallowed a fly' and the adorable ring i noticed on the receptionist yesterday that i keep thinking ive seen somewhere before) its just the ongoing dilemma of finding the time and then of course finding the words to tell you about it. on a side note, i have no clue as to what the hell that old lady swallowed except for the fly and while that in and of itself shouldnt have killed her, georgia has been requesting (badgering, nagging, demanding) we discover every possible thing she could have swallowed. i suggested we start and end with an elephant...making for a sure death and quick song, but ive now heard her rattle off no less than 15 different objects that old lady could have swallowed. and i digress.

i once thought id write in the morning but unfortunately as one who cant even speak well before 10 and a pot of coffee, i quickly realized the coordination to type and or think is not accessible in the early hours. the truth is that now my eldest child has begun boycotting naps and my youngest has begun training as a professional wrestler (complete with diving leaps off of furniture and head butting his sister), ive needed to be on my A game when it comes to parenting during the waking hours. and then of course the night time rolls around and while i consider myself a night owl, im more of the owl that enjoys chilling on the branch relaxing rather than hunting around full speed in the sky.

so there hasnt been time and really i havent made time. the time i have has been spent loving on my little people. wiping noses, folding tiny clothes and soaking up as many crisp fall days at the park as possible. although, now that i know the high chair works to prevent injuries to the little one and really, how dangerous is spinning and falling...i may have a plan shaping up to carve out the perfect time.

ordinary us

there will come a day when our kids, in spite of all our tall tales of life before them, will insist that we are fairly ordinary. memories of shark diving and sky diving will be part of our distant past and they will be forced to see us as parents. two people lucky enough to be sharing our days and years together, building a life moment by moment and doing our best to leave a legacy for the little people. there will be fun family trips and inside family jokes, but the truth is the vast majority of our lives will be lived in the ordinary way that all lives are, with memories and joy lying in the smallest of everyday moments. and what i want you to know more than anything is that after 11 years of we, in light of highs and lows and all that could be...i find you, wrapped up and caught up in the ordinary nothing shy of extraordinary. i am left simply overwhelmed by your abundant generosity, palpable sincerity and the film of kindness left on everything you touch.

you, extraordinary you, lead our family with love and integrity, faith and wisdom and a heart that continually puts us first. and we can never thank you enough or love you enough or tell you enough just how proud we are to be yours. how thankful we are that you, in the mundane rhythm of yesterday and today give us countless reasons to love you tomorrow. we are yours. and the ordinary is simply beautiful with you in it as you continually mold it with joy and love, kindness and respect. our minutes can be filled with chaos or peace, uncertainty or grief, but you, extraordinary you, always show up with confidence and faith wrapped in love. you protect and provide for us in a way that leaves me dumbfounded. and grateful. in the still of the morning as you leave quietly and i begin the quick drift back to sleep, i simply roll over and thank God for you. for a man that humbly serves his God, country and family with an unwavering commitment to putting others first. we are just 3 of the lucky others in an incredibly long and growing list. and so, in the dark and quiet of the morning, i smell the coffee you dont have time to drink but always brew for me nonetheless, and i raise up the most ordinary prayer of thanks to an amazing God who so graciously gave us extraordinary you.

why.

i was told once a long time ago from some well intentioned holy rolling christian (the kind that had me seriously considering leaving church for awhile before i had a chat with God and He kindly assured me it really wasnt all about her and her types) where she, in her vast knowledge and perfect interpretations explained to me in the nicest of ways why we, as followers of Jesus, are not to ask God why He does what He does. i remember smiling politely and nodding my head all the while feeling a bit sheepish and guilty because i had asked God on countless occasions why.

why were nearly 3,000 innocent people allowed to die when a few crazy radicals thought it best to fly planes into buildings.

why didnt mr. woods from my home town blow his own head off before hunting down his wife and young children as they ran for their lives around their house while dodging the inevitable plan of death he had for them.

why the tsunami.

why are their children sold for sex for a few dollars to a multitude of sick bastards who are more than willing to pay.

why andrea yates.

why darfur.

why. why. why.

i have a million whys for God. something i read or hear or see on a daily basis has me asking Him why. He doesnt owe me an explanation or an answer. He doesnt even have to listen and truth be told i have far more questions than i have answers. i know of children in need of love. of orphans in need of parents. of kids caught up and tossed about and lost in a system that while full of great intentions is horribly broken. and i know of women who were born to be mothers, women who would make incredible mothers and if not for the overwhelming pain and heartbreak of not being able to conceive a child of their own would never meet the divine fork in the road where they, in their grief and longing for motherhood, would forever alter the life and future of a baby in desperate need of them and their love. children born of their hearts not of their wombs...most certainly after years of asking why.

and i mean no disrespect when out of disbelief i come to my Father and question Him. im not trying to fill the role of the right hand man, not trying to second guess Him in all His perfectness or imply He owes me an answer. i just cant imagine Him creating each of us with our sense of reason and logic and our minds full of natural curiosity only to ask us to spend our lives simply void of questions when it comes to what lies under His control (which is incidentally everything). my trust and faith in Him easily coexist with my questions of Him. much like georgia asking me if im going to catch her while she jumps, i can ask God 'why' while simultaneously trusting Him and His plans. i can have my faith shaken by the heartache and grief around me and be left grasping for answers and clinging to Him for the hope and peace i long to steady me. i have spent the better part of this week in a tailspin of questions for Him and while i have been honest and confused, fumbling for ways to articulate my bewilderment to Him, He has met me where i am and calmed me reassuring me once again that He is present. if God the Son, while fulfilling His purpose and having all of the answers can still cry out to His Father in immeasurable pain and ask why from the cross...certainly we, His children, when witnessing or consumed by our own suffering can ask the same of Him with the same certainty that He is listening with compassion and comfort in our time of need.

so i wonder. and i ask. and i wait for answers that usually never come or that i simply do not recognize or understand. what i do know without question is God is present and accounted for in every situation that gives me pause. sometimes Hes most visible in the midst of the storm, other times in the aftermath. but He is always there. so ill continue to love and to trust and to ask why, eagerly anticipating the day when we are face to face and all of the hope and all of the blessings that remained unseen to me in the living years are revealed.

the not so great outdoors

let me start by admitting in complete and total honesty im a total poser when i appear to be enjoying myself in the great outdoors. i own northface and merrells. i can rock nothing but chapstick for a day or two and ive been known to take a shower with nothing but a few baby wipes, but i pretty much hate every second of it. its not my thing. sure, i have romanticized the crap out of the IDEA of camping...campfires, shooting stars, crisp mountain top sunrises with nothing but the birds keeping me company. the problem is the reality of it...bug bites, crappy coffee, a hard ground, gear to haul around like mules, limited wardrobe changes, non existent shower facilities (and let me just say right here for you crazy 'oh there are campgrounds with showers and bathrooms...i say boo to you...really? i know theyre not clean, and while running water may constitute a shower to you, i require a bit more, like steaming hot water, clean tiles and soap that smells good enough to snack on). and of course theres the beginning of time dilemma of where and how do you pooh in the woods...and why of course you cant pooh for days on a camping trip. ah yes. and tava, we cant all have fifth wheels. soooo, back to why camping sucks and more importantly why its on the brain tonight...

i once thought patrick and i should go camping and like all new ideas of mine, i got overly excited and eager about the accessorizing part. i spent loads of time researching tents, perusing up and down aisles everywhere from rei to target wondering what the perfect tent would look like for us. thank God i had the opportunity to go camping in a tee pee in aspen for a few days because i immediately realized that our perfect tent looked identical to a room at the hilton. there were porta potties (which are really just little caves i refer to as hell deterrents as i imagine hell is one big giant porta potty that everyone in hell has to use and spend all their time next to) and sleeping bags and of course baby wipes. it was a fabulous opportunity to spend time with amazing students and it saved patrick and i a boatload of money because if it wasnt for that trip we would be the proud owners of all things camp like and it would all be brand spankin new.

needless to say, our sweet kids will get their love of the outdoors from some other people which remain unknown to us at this current time because we pretty much roll with people like us. however, this week i did have a brief opportunity to share with georgia a camping experience. on our way home from running errands, i, in an attempt to reward some outstanding behavior suggested we travel to a new playground. one far from our house and in the woods. brilliant. we arrived at the hidden playground to find one mama watching over her 4 year old little boy climbing on the slide. georgia was thrilled, i was thrilled. fast forward 20 minutes into our excursion. other mama and i have made enough small talk that i know she is tired and relieved to have 2 of her 3 boys in school while monkey child hangs and swings from every piece of playground equipment. jack is happily swinging in the swing and the peach is enjoying the tunnel slide. all is well. at this time the peach mentions, 'mommy, i have to go potty'. i said, 'okay, no big deal. lets pack up and go home and i promise we can come back later today or another day.' to which my natural born used car salesman replies, 'actually, i really dont have to go.' fast forward 48 seconds....'mommy, actually, i have to go poop and i have to go right now.'

several things flashed through my mind and i was left with only one choice. i looked to the other mama and said something like, 'can you make sure no one takes my baby from the swing while i take my daughter to poop in the woods?' these are words i really never thought id utter and yet, here i was, leaving my infant in the care of a stranger to take my peach into the woods to poop. i hate camping. once in the woods, the ever inquisitive georgia asked, 'what do i do?' to which i answered, 'well, honey, you just poop. right here. under this lovely tree.' she looked at me like she was waiting for me to say just kidding. when i didnt, she said, 'well, i guess im fine with that.' so she pooped. and of course she wanted toilet paper. geez, georgia, right now toilet paper and some hand sanitizer would really make my day too, but what we have is a leaf, so here you go. double eww. at this point all i wanted was a hot shower in my clean bathroom with this whole disgusting experience behind me. so we headed back to the swings to find jack happily, obliviously swinging. he was laughing at us like, 'i get to poop on myself. its so much easier.' i thanked stranger lady profusely for preventing any abduction of the lump and we called it a day. and while im no camper, the peach may just be...on the way home i overheard her talking to her baby doll and it went something like this...'so, baby, one day when youre big like me, you can poop in the woods too. its really pretty cool.' ugh.

hodgepodge

every now and then i have a few things to share...some isolated incidents that are worth mentioning. and while none of them on their own is worthy of an entire post, when combined, i think they just might be. first of all, i just spent a wonderful weekend in williamsburg, va with my 3 college roomies. i took away a few things from the 24 hours spent together drinking wine and reliving days that are further behind us than any of us would really like to admit. williamsburg really is a nice little city full of pancake houses and historical reenactments. woo. instead of getting our history swagger on, we opted for laser tag, a visit to the winery and a record trip down to a bar on the one hip strip in the burg. laser tag:: super fun. ive played before and had a great time, but this time was even more fun thanks to the group of 15 8 year old boys out for blood. at one point one of them yelled at me when i missed an open shot on my best friend (on the opposing side) by screaming, 'shes blue shes BLUE!!! this isnt boys against girls, lady, its red AGAINST BLUE!!'. awesome. gotta love that enthusiasm. at that moment i was relieved that we werent in real combat (hed clearly be way too trigger happy) and of course that i have a son who i hope to one day have running around with guns yelling at random strangers with the same adrenaline filled conviction.

also, i know williamsburg isnt that southern by southerners standards, but seriously...i have a suggestion for all of you southern drivers on the highway....are you listening? rain is not the same as ice and you are not driving sugar cubes. please stop flicking boogers on my happy place behind the wheel and proceed at the speed you were just lollygagging at prior to raindrops falling on your windshield. this is not dangerous. this is not reckless. it is actually keeping you safer because those of us just passing through are raging at your sudden braking over the precipitation.

after spending the afternoon and night at the winery, we were tired and thankful for malena, our rockstar server who not only gave us great service with free wine and cookies, but also safely delivered us all back to our hotel when our lame cabbie never showed. at this point we all wanted to put on fat pants and relax in our room. that would make sense. but like a group of convicts just escaped from prison, we didnt want to waste even a minute of our precious freedom. so we boarded the bus to abilene, called another cab and ventured downtown with some nice turkish driver from istanbul here on a student visa at william & mary. i know you dont care, but being the big loser that i am, and having just watched patrick spend an entire year working on his thesis on muslim extremists, i was actually really curious to know what this guy thought of the terror threats abroad, specifically the extremist views in his home country of turkey. thank goodness i had a fleeting moment of situational awareness and simply shut up and color. i find it thoroughly amusing that my situational awareness on my girls night out now keeps me from chatting up the cab driver with current topics as opposed to other things. lets just say we've come a long long way.

once comfortably seated on high barstools created for the arse of a 12 year old, we promptly ordered waters and some bar food. this began the 30 minute litany of complaints and criticisms of our server by each of us. he was rude, rushed, didnt make small talk and rarely visited our table. hmmm. after a brief moment of clarity it occured to me it could be because we are at a BAR....ordering WATER....with a server who is serving, bartending and probably trying to pick up the table of COLLEGE chicks over there. im going to go out on a flimsy limb here, but i think we could finally be moving beyond this stage of our life at last. i mean really, when our topic of conversation at a bar revolves solely around our crappy service, we may be out of our zone. so we ate our crappy food, drank our tap water and called mr. istanbul to pick us up. home sweet home by 11, just in time to catch 9 hours of sleep before hitting a pancake house. an altogether great weekend with the best of friends. and no rain on the way home. perfect.

7 am

patrick made coffee this morning as he has done countless mornings before. its not that im incapable (i did make it yesterday with jack on my hip, trying to feed him a bottle with one hand without dropping the holy grail of brew with the other), its just that its hard to make coffee when i havent had any yet. my judgment is blurred, my reflexes nonexistent, my ability to speak temporarily unavailable. yesterday was a perfect example...who really tries to hold a baby and a bottle in one hand and a huge pot of coffee in the other?? someone who is clearly not yet awake and is in desperate need of the bean, willing to risk dropping the baby or the coffee in a crazy attempt at multi tasking. my sister in law lisa, (who btw is full of valuable tidbits and insights that you actually WANT to hear) once wisely summed up new parenthood as not really that difficult. i mean really, how hard is it to keep a newborn (lets throw in colic free) baby happy? its not. but doing it with 2-4 hours of sleep...thats hard. im figuring out slowly but surely its always the factor you didnt think of that makes tasks the most challenging. like navigating your way via taxi with a significant language barrier between you and cabbie. and in my case and my days as of late, its the fatigue factor.


im blaming most of my fatigue on georgia who continues to summon us to her room at all hours of the night for the most obscure reasons. a few nights back she, in a rare switch that had me smiling, called for her DADDY at the top of her lungs. when he got to her room, he immediately scolded her, 'georgia, why are you yelling like that??' to which she replied, '2 things, daddy. 1, i love you. 2, could you please put my blankie back on me?' good thing hed done his stretches that day, otherwise it would have been difficult for him to wrap himself entirely around her little finger. im also blaming shark week on the discovery channel which i cannot seem to pull myself away from regardless of the predictability (of course the guy talking on camera didnt get eaten by a great white shark unless hes giving the interview in the afterlife) or the hour to which it lasts (most recently to midnight).

and ive always been a night person, able and eager to spin my wheels at all hours of the night but im realizing as of late that the little people have not only their dads amazing blue eyes but his inexplicable internal alarm clock as well. and this, in a horrifyingly unfair twist of fate, has my night owl self being beat down by the morning people in the house. i have always reserved early mornings for God and birds, neither of which needed my attention during those sleeping hours. but now...well, now theres God and birds and children, who incidentally do need my attention at all hours. so im thankful that some sleepy ancient incans or mayans or egyptians or some other 'ans' discovered the magical bean and then had the idea to grind it up, heat it up and drink it. i imagine with so few interesting things going on back then and so few tasty beverage choices, they really persevered with the coffee idea. and im so glad they did. and that while my husband is annoyingly chipper in the morning, hes also wonderfully capable and willing to brew the best pot of pure joy imaginable. im off to refill.

save second base

so this is one of my best friends, amy and i on the morning of the race for the cure. she is easily the most highly motivated person i know, always up for challenging herself and more than willing to find a few ways to challenge those around her (fortunately, not in that annoyingly overzealous way like richard simmons). years ago amy and suzy (who im sure ive mentioned on here before) ran a race in honor of my beautiful mama and her victory over breast cancer. since that time patrick has run one as well and yet, i, being reluctant to take on any real commitment to fitness in my life continued to watch the races come and go, reminding me just how much i wanted to participate, but never actually doing it. with my new goals in place i figured this was the year to finally run the race for the cure. its now been 13 years since my mom completed her last chemo treatment and the race was long overdue. this became THE year when amys amazing mother was diagnosed and began bravely battling breast cancer as well.

i cant help but feel like my moms cancer was a defining moment in my own life. At 18 in my first year of college while happily occupying the center of my own universe, i remember feeling invincible one minute and gripped with an all consuming fear the next. i attempted to make incredible deals with an incredible God always under the guise of 'if only You will take this from her, i will do (insert completely outlandish and impossible promise)'. at the time i remember feeling completely out of control and desperate, unable to shake the reality that there was absolutely nothing i could do to shape or shift the outcome of this reckless, indifferent and unsympathetic opponent. in an instant, i became the smallest and weakest person i knew on my knees begging God to just listen to me. to simply hear my cries and feel my overwhelming need for more time with my best friend. fortunately for me, who had laid out every possible promise to live an altogether perfect life rivaling that of mother theresa, in order to have my mothers life spared, God isnt really into deals. what He gives and what He takes away is not determined by my ability to emphatically beg, plead and promise.

after months of recovery, chemo and sickness, the prayers of anyone and everyone who has ever met my mother were answered and she was still with us. there will always be life before cancer and life after cancer in my mind. it completely shifted the terms in which i view life, the sacredness and joy of it as well as the potential brevity and injustice of it. before cancer i knew my mother was beautiful and kind, warm and patient, gentle and loving. i knew she embodied contentment and joy and had given me a glimpse into the kind of mother i hoped to be someday. after cancer i learned that in addition to what i knew to be true of her before, that she was also the strongest person i had ever known. and brave. and courageous. and hopeful and faithfilled and optimistic and unbelievably grateful. i remember her calming my fears and attempting to steady a foundation that i could feel shaking under me by reassuring me that 'if this cancer was the most challenging thing we ever faced as a family we were incredibly blessed.' and that the same God who was in control yesterday when life was cancer free is the same God in control today battling with us. these words and the loving wisdom that poured freely from them gave my weak and trembling soul hope. the kind of hope that was able to sustain me as i watched the chemo wreak havoc on her already sick body. the kind of hope that comforted me in the quiet moments of solitude when the tangible feeling of doubt surrounded me. she has always painted the future with broad strokes of hope and it is what i believe kept all of us looking ahead with the same optimism and faith in spite of the difficult journey.

it was during her months of chemotherapy that i began to see another hero emerge in my life. my father had always been brave and strong, honorable and wise, a man with conviction and integrity. and yet as i watched him stand along side her, sometimes with the strength of his love and commitment holding her up, i began to witness a love and adoration i didnt know could exist. i saw what for better or worse looked like, what in sickness and in health could mean. it was painful and exhausting, its toll brutal and yet, it was and is the most beautiful love i have ever seen. my parents get commitment and i am eternally grateful for the living example of it and for the profound impact it has left on my life and the legacy that will be passed on and on. and i wouldnt wish this disease on anyone. i would fall to me knees in an instant in prayers for you and yours to overcome this ugly threat and yet, it was through this unbearable disease that i came to see the entirety of the two most amazing people in the world, each possessing the strengths of the other and trusting in the same power of the same God regardless of the day.

so i ran. and ran. and ran. for you, mom. and for you, debby. and ill run again...to save second base, to save the ta tas, to find a cure and to hopefully spread hope in the meantime as i run in honor of you, mom, with your name proudly on my back.

duck duck goose

we are officially at the beach in duck, north carolina and after my first night of uninterrupted sleep i am feeling downright grand. ive heard that you are either a mountain person or an ocean person, a division so clear and easy to recognize it rivals the over or under camps of toilet paper rolls. and while i do know a few people who clearly fall into the mountain side of things, loving the hikes, the peaks and the views and then of course the beach freaks who long for the sand, surf and sound of the waves....i have to admit i feel like i have one foot firmly planted on both sides of this fence (no surprise to those of you who know my gemini split personality). i remember traveling through new zealand and feeling like God must have been showing off when He created the mountain ranges there and having the same feeling of wonder when i stood at an overlook in kaui gazing at the na'pali coast. it was the same feeling of awe and amazement. im fortunate to have had that feeling many times...patrick and i spent the first 5 years of 'we' traveling our tails off to as many awe inspiring places as possible finding heaven while diving the great barrier reef and in the views we took in skydiving over oahu's north shore.

but what im realizing most about my love affair with both sun and sky is that as hard as i may try to claim a strong affiliation with one, i simply cant betray the great love i have for the other. and i dont really want to. we spent some time at glacier national park a few years ago and extended our visit to check out realty in the area. i suggested that as much as we loved it there and as excited as pat was to buy our forever land, we might want to visit it in december just to make sure. needless to say, visiting montana in december doesnt have the same allure as it does in july and we have yet to return. theres also the element of height and our shared phobia that appeared while traveling on the road to the sun...pats white knuckles and inability to speak in complete sentences paired perfectly with my shortness of breath and verbal petitions to God to please keep us from falling off the edge. super fun. and yet, when we arrived at the top (with anxiety attacks behind us), we were ready to buy land and stay forever. the view and feeling of wonder was all consuming. i didnt even want to share it with a camera lens...i didnt want to squint one eye for even a moment and crowd the landscape in front of me. it was and is one of the most spectacular places in the world and i long for the day we can visit again.

but as much as i love the mountains, i could curl up next to the sound of waves and only be moved by the changing tide. i fell deeply in love with the half of the world that lives and thrives mostly in secret underwater when we started diving. i am completely captivated by the ocean, effortlessly drawn into the rhythm of the waves and wrapped in the warmth of the sun. i have freckles marking all of my dates with the ocean, one by one reminding me of time spent in its familiar company. they are evidence of times shared and memories made in the presence of one of my greatest loves. and so the beach beckons and i, eager to create more memories that will not fade over time, answer. only this time, the 'we' is much grander and much greater than before.

decisions decisions

let me throw out this quick disclaimer...after a month of craziness (busy in a good way) i have had zero time to blog. when i finally did squeeze in a few minutes my flippin blog deleted my post as i was posting it. therefore, as this is my second go at this post, there may some additional cynicism accompanying it. i am bitter to say the least that i lost my first post when spare time is the hottest and rarest commodity in my life right now. that being said, i recently had a big decision to make...one that had me weighing pros and cons, doing quick checks of the finances and discussing time management (or my lack there of) with patrick. i was weighing the option of hiring a housekeeper (how i long for korea days with ms.hong drying my jeans on high heat and waking gk with the unbelievably LOUD noise of the plastic bag that carried her dust rags), joining a massage club (a little weird and self indulgent, but SO tempting after gamal, the wonder egyptian gave me a fab massage recently) and finally a gym membership. what i wanted most was a couple of hours a month with gamal....where i wouldnt be thinking of the laundry that needed to be done or the muscle buried far below the layers of flub gamal was massaging. ive decided to work my way backwards...starting with the fat and working my way to the housekeeper and finally the reward of a massage club someday. however, in order for me to fully embrace the gym membership, i had to come to terms with several key issues and move beyond them.

i am certifiable when it comes to working out and dieting. i admit it. it has been a cycle of sorts over the course of the last 15 years that has drug me through bouts of self loathing and tendencies toward the extreme. of course 15 years ago i was trying to be a size 2-4...that would now only be achievable if i were willing to have one leg amputated and wear the size 2 jeans on my remaining limb and even those better be stretch denim. i realized in a moment of rare clarity that i have to completely change my perspective on the entire way ive been approaching this aspect of my life. for the life of me i cannot understand why being content with my body is so damn elusive...i am truly content in every other venue of my life with the exception of this. i find it horribly arrogant and self centered to focus on it and let it (with it being so trivial in the vast scope of life) occupy as many thoughts as it does and yet, its a struggle. part of my issue is how i have always viewed exercise...it has ALWAYS been a means to an end. always. for a dress, for a boy, for a bikini, for a vacation...you name it, if its shallow, its been a great motivator for yours truly. the problem with this (okay...many problems) is that once said shallow event or relationship has passed, i go back to slugging my way through life and relying only on occasional adjustments in diet to drop the pounds. that being confessed, this is my new mantra...at least its the one i am trying to convince myself of when i feel those self loathing thoughts come up.

i will choose to view exercise as a blessing...how lucky am i to be healthy enough to work out?? there are SO many people who would love to have the opportunity to run but are unable to for a variety of reasons. and my reasons are the lamest of lames....dont feel like it, too tired, choose to not make the time, dont feel like washing my hair today...the list goes on and on. the second part of my mantra is that regardless of the results (how timely or not) i will do this for a year. with the goal of five times a week. ugh. all this being said the most important part of working out is the wardrobe. so i bought new clothes to make myself look like im a worker outer even though my out of breathness will sell me out within a few minutes. i dont need to buy new running shoes because the ones i bought 4 years ago have conveniently only been worn a handful of times for marathons...of the shopping sort.

once the big decision was made, the new threads were ready and my new mantra was playing in my head, i decided i needed to seek some professional help (read someone to hold me accountable and force me to show up). so i met with the super fit fitness manager who discussed with me a few concepts...the first being that this would take sometime and the second being that it would be hard work. great. my two least favorite things. he insisted on setting goals (something i typically resist doing...like i really need tangible benchmarks to fail at) with the short term goal of fitting into a closet full of clothes (even while knowing that once i fit into all of them again, i will still continue to rotate between black and white crews and jeans i cant remember washing) and the long term goal of making this part of my life a habit. so i signed up for a race, hired kathy the wonder trainer and got to work. once super fit fitness guy had assessed my goals and mental health he matched kathy and i up. she has assured me that over time, a lot of people experience a runners high...im beginning to think she may have a drug problem herself.

with lots of progress to be made, kathy and i began the death march toward health and fitness. she is fabulous, really and very knowledgeable with a wide stocked arsenal of pain inducing moves. ive seen her smile once and i believe with enough time i could squeeze a laugh out of her, but what shes really a master at is carrying an entire conversation on her own. similar to a dentist chatting you up with your mouth pried open, kathy can hold down an entire conversation while i simply sweat and catch my breath wondering the entire time how she can really talk and keep track of reps at the same time. its very impressive to say the least and a skill that im sure only comes after years of watching countless victims struggle to talk while completely distracted by the fire that is racing through every muscle in their body. i dont think i can recall any part of any conversation we have ever had...and we've been meeting for 5 weeks. its not that im uninterested, im just a wee bit preoccupied with the level of concentration i have to simply not fall over and quit breathing. yep, its been fun.

so, im on my way. im running 20-30 miles a week and lifting a few times as well to try and build that muscle that will hopefully be unveiled at a later date when the cardio has done its job. there will be more on this to follow...like how ive chased those unruly exercise balls all over the mats or how ive memorized the exact location of the emergency stop button on the treadmill.