That's it. Break's Over.

Today the kids went back to school after an 18-day break.  That sounds like a long time, but it goes by fast.  We went on some family outings, and we are also very close to having an orderly and pretty laundry room.  Almost there!  It was a fun and productive break, but I was looking forward to everyone going back today so that I could get the house in order and our lives on our comfortable routine again.

Except that must wait a day because my phone reminded me this morning that it is Tuesday, not Monday, and Tuesday is the day I copy for the kids' teachers.  Drat.  Luckily, one of the teachers wasn't expecting me so I had half the work to do.  I did some errands (since I was dressed and ready to go) and picked up around the house.  I also practiced guitar.  Warning:  tangent ahead.

Which reminds me....  If I ever, ever, ever complain about not getting the F chord again, tell me to shut it.  I pulled out my one-minute changes notebook and realized that I hadn't practiced them since November 25th.  Oh.  That explains a lot.  So I sucked it up and did my changes today.  I recorded them with the intention of sharing them with you via SoundCloud, but I can't.  I just can't.  Bad.  Bad.  Bad.  Another tangent: When you hit play, SoundCloud continues playing everything you've recorded or liked.  So my changes are followed by U2's "Desire."  It sounds like I'm really improving all of a sudden and being accompanied by Bono.  Sweet.  Oh what the heck.  Does this link work?  Maybe being humiliated not in person will help me get over playing in front of real, live people someday.  And, honestly, anything else I can play sounds better than those changes from F to G.  There.  You've just heard the worst I can do.  Maybe that will take some of the pressure off.

So yeah.  Break's over.  Let's get back at it.  There are Christmas decorations to be taken down and guitar chords to master!  There's no time to waste, says the girl who squandered twenty minutes figuring out how to upload a 49-second recording.

Sentimental Heart

Old habits die hard when you got, when you got a sentimental heart.  - She & Him

When I was in middle school and high school, I kept pretty much everything--programs from recitals and school events, report cards, concert tickets, notes from friends, and a myriad of tokens and trinkets from times that I didn't want to ever forget.  When I moved to Arizona my mother sent a box of all that stuff, and I put it in a closet.  When I cleaned out that closet a few months ago, I found that box and threw everything away except for my yearbooks and high school and college diplomas.  I decided I didn't want to hold on to, or store, this "junk."  One could argue that those things are meaningful, but to me it's just stuff.  As I looked through it, I remembered a few good times, smiled, and figured that that little jog to my memory will be enough to help me remember those times through the rest of my life.  And if I forget them...well, no harm done.  Right?

Say right.  Because those things are long gone and ain't never comin' back.

It's not like I'm a cold-hearted person who doesn't care; I'm just not a collector of things anymore.  (Huh.  Maybe old habits don't die as hard as She thought.)  I am sentimental about people and places and music, though.

I miss that person.  
I love this place because I have made so many pleasant memories here.
Every time I hear this song I think of _______.

People, places, and emotions don't have to be tied to material things, though.

Then there is my kids' stuff.  Is it bad that the papers they bring home from school are reviewed and quickly recycled?  Occasionally, we'll hold on to an art project for awhile, but if I held on to all of them you might see me on an episode of "Hoarders."  I have a file for each child that holds their report cards, swim lesson graduation certificates, school concert programs, and other papers like that, but I think I should go through those files soon because they are getting fat.  I should clean them out, right?

I really want an answer this time.

I can throw out my own stuff with no problem.  Lots of  people save their race numbers in boxes or even use them as wallpaper. What do I need those for?  Mine are tossed as soon as I take the pins out of my shirt.  Girl Scouts gives leaders patches at events, but mine are thrown away when I get home.  I'm not going to sew them on a shirt and wear it around.  Some leaders proudly wear their patches like their girls do, but that's not something I'd do.  A few years ago, my friend Aimee and I ran in The Color Run--you begin the race in a clean white shirt and people throw powdered color at you.  I came home, showered, and placed my shirt in the garbage bin.  Aimee stuffed her newly colored shirt in a zip-lock bag and put it in her hope chest.  Neither way is the right or wrong way, but I am starting to ask myself if I'm ever going to wish I had saved my race bibs and other stuff.  Probably not but you never know, I guess.

When it comes to my kids though, it seems like a lot of my friends keep more of their kids' things, and I'm afraid I might someday wish I had more of their art, schoolwork, or other memorable papers.  Will I ever wonder, What was that song Matthew sang in first grade?  I'm pretty sure I won't, but if I save this program then I don't have to worry about it.  On the other hand, we have a video of the concert so why do I need to keep the paper?  I don't.  Out it goes. I guess I'm only looking for the okay to not hold on to everything.  Just because other people do doesn't mean that I have to.  Or should.  I know I'll never forget my kids' highlights or my own highlights.  I'll always remember Elizabeth's first piano recital and Matthew's kindergarten graduation the same way I'll always remember my first race.  I just don't need to know what my number was.

Right?  Right?!

Bonus Day

Sunday is normally a rest day for me, but I do like to keep moving so sometimes it turns into what I call Bonus Day--I do some kind of easy, fun activity.  Brian went riding with his friends so I talked the kids into going on a hike.  Our weather is gorgeous right now so we're taking advantage of it while we can.  I feel kind of bad for sharing this when most of you are freezing and covered in snow, but you are always welcome to join us!

This morning we went to Phoenix's South Mountain Park, the largest city park in the country.  There are lots of scenic views of the mountain, the desert, the city, and sprawling homes that sit in the foothills.  We started at the Warpaint trailhead, did a few climbs, snacked, walked along the ridgeline, and came back down.  We were nearly at the car when Brian called, so we waited five minutes to say hello to him and his friends.  It was a nice outing.

Here's everything I just told you in photos:

approaching our first climb

No one can tell Matthew he's using the binoculars incorrectly.

lots of pretty mountain and desert views

Well we tried to get a good shot of us.  Maybe next time.

We hike for snacks.

Snacks give us energy.

maybe too much energy

Matthew likes to get far ahead. 

They do love each other at moments.

Brian, Carolyn, Bill, and Mike

Cry-Running

Cry-running is not something I recommend.  It makes you feel pretty sucky and it's difficult to breathe.  But it happens.

Sometimes you cry joyfully because you realize you've run farther or better than you've ever run before.  It hits you suddenly... I'm doing this.  I'm really doing this!  I never thought I had this in me, but I do have it and it's flowing out of me, and my mind and body worked together to make this moment happen!   Then you start to hyperventilate so you fight it off until you finish and just let.it.all.out.

Sometimes you're having a bad run.  You're tired and hot and body parts hurt and you want to stop but know that you'll only feel worse about everything if you stop so you keep going and you're still tired and hot and body parts still hurt and you start crying because you just.want.to.stop.  Then you start to hyperventilate and this is the kind of crying you can't really fight off so the run goes downhill (but not in that good downhill way) fast.

Other times you bring on the tears all by yourself.  Over a year ago last August, I ran seven miles with this song on repeat.



It was a day of gloom made even gloomier by my own attitude and mood and choice to press repeat on my iPod for over an hour so I could listen to that beautiful but depressing Coldplay song.  The cry-running wasn't as ugly as the cries from the girl in this video or anything, but tears streamed...down my face indeed.  Why would anyone do that to themselves?  I don't know, and I'll never know.  But after that awful run, I put my iPod in a drawer and said to myself, I don't need music.  I ran the next five months of training in silence.  People thought I was nuts.  "How do you run without music?"  At the time I had been reading a few marathon training books and many encouraged running without such distractions as it promotes a more pure experience, allowing you to be in better tune with your body, breathing, and thoughts.  So I'd tell people that's why, but in reality I simply didn't want to cry.  Only it didn't really help because I'd still cry.  It turns out that almost any run over 14 miles turns into a bad run for me so there was still plenty of crying.

Speaking of gloomy....  This started out as a happy post so let's get back to that, shall we? And don't worry.  After the big race, I came to my senses, charged my iPod, and ran on. To music.  Always.

This afternoon I've been weepy.  I'm not crying at a song or even my own run today.  I'm emotional because two close friends ran twelve miles this morning, and it's the furthest they've ever run in their lives.  They weren't easy runs for them, either.  Both of them had tough moments of fatigue and foot and knee pain, and they wanted to stop.  Maybe they felt like crying, I don't know, but the important thing is that they didn't stop until they reached their goal for the day.  I know how good that feels, and I'm so happy for them that I could cry.  So I do!

The Great Pet Experiment

Snoopy went home.  :(

Our friends returned from their trip, and we were forced to give them their cat back.  We enjoyed our time with Snoopy while she was here, but it seemed like we did a lot of lazing around.  She likes to lie around the house and we like to lie around with her, so it turned out that we did a lot of lying around for ten days.  Do cats make people lazy?  I think I can say with certainty that cats make me lazy.

We learned you can't make a cat do anything it doesn't want to do, which made it all the more special when she decided to curl up with us.

It seemed like Matthew was the only one who kept busy.  Snoopy was fascinated with Lego building at times.

I, however, just wanted to cuddle with her.

So did Elizabeth.

Snuggling with Elizabeth and Snoopy at the same time--perfect!

I thought Elizabeth would be the most excited about the cat, but Matthew went to pet and play with Snoopy more often and he's the one who said, "Mommy, can we get a cat?"  I was also surprised that Brian got so attached to her.  We weren't sure when Kathy would come to pick her up, but Brian finished working in the laundry room that day and said, "When's Kathy coming?  Can I take a shower?"  Awwww.  He wanted to make sure he'd have a chance to say goodbye.  How sweet is that?

As for me, I'm not going to lie.  It was sad going to bed that night without her purring.  I found her purrs very soothing and calming.  She's a very affectionate cat who liked to be around us, and there were a few spurts during the day when she was playful.  We miss her companionship already.  And you know what?  There wasn't hair everywhere.  Occasionally we'd find a clump, but that was easy to pick up and throw away.  It's not like I had to vacuum the floors and couches every day.  The litter box wasn't that big of a deal either, and she didn't have front claws so nothing was scratched.  So...we are considering getting a cat.  There's a lady at school who rescues them so maybe next time there are kittens in her office one will be just right for us.  I don't know though.  It's a big responsibility, and is it pessimistic to think about the possibility of it having or developing health problems?  That would be heartbreaking, and it could be expensive.  All I can say for now is, we'll see.

It's a Classic.

I'm from Pittsburgh and I don't understand the games of football or hockey.  It's a travesty!  That's probably why I was kicked out and had to move to Arizona.  Kidding.  But only about that last part.  I honestly do not know much about either of those games except that you need to get a ball across a line or a puck in a goal.  Most Pittsburghers live and breathe Steeler football and Pens hockey, though.  Mario Lemieux is like the Roberto Clemente of my generation!  My dad likes the Pens so much that in retirement he has a job as an usher at the Consol Energy Center; he can go to their games and, subsequently, Justin Timberlake concerts for free.  (I'm not kidding.  He went to that concert last month. Ha!)  I've never been to a Steeler game, and I went to one Pens game when I was in college and a Phoenix Coyotes game when I first moved here.  Obviously, neither of those games made a big impression on me as I still don't completely get the game of hockey.

However, every January 1st I turn into a hockey fan and watch the Winter Classic.  The authenticity of playing hockey outside in the dead of winter is exciting.  I like to imagine that playing on a frozen lake as a child is how a lot of those NHL players got hooked on the sport, and the fact that they are going back to that--even if it's just for one day and they're getting paid a lot of money to do it--makes me feel like they genuinely love what they do.  They must.  Especially if they played in that weather yesterday.  Did you see it?  They stopped the game after only two and a half minutes of play to shovel the snow off the ice, and they had to keep shoveling the rink throughout the game.  Water bottles were freezing.  The ice on the side of the rink was melting from the heaters keeping the players warm on the sidelines.  Such drama!  There didn't even need to be a game to hold my interest.

But the game was good!  There wasn't much fighting or hitting. From what I could tell they seemed to be playing nicely together.  Among the fans there was team spirit as well as patriotism since Detroit was playing Toronto.  I was rooting for Toronto.  It's a much nicer city than Detroit, I'm assuming.  I've never been to Detroit, but I loved Toronto.  Except what is up with that crazy mayor of theirs?  Anyway....  Awww.  Detroit scored.  Oh, Toronto scored!  Toronto scored again!  Oh no, Detroit scored.  It's the end of the third period so what happens now?  Overtime.  Okay.  It's still tied.  Now what happens?  Another overtime?  No!  Something even more exciting--a shoot out!  Holy moly.  Does it get any better than a shoot out in a snowstorm with a windchill that makes the temperature feel like it's below zero?  Yes!  It's an Olympic year so they introduced us to the USA women's hockey team, and after the game they announced the men's team by having "little league" hockey players skate in wearing jerseys displaying the team members' names.  That was such a cute idea and those kids must have been thrilled!

I never heard of the Winter Classic until the game was played in Pittsburgh in January 2011.  Brian casually turned it on, and I was captivated.  Later, friends from Pittsburgh were posting photos from the game on Facebook.  It was outside at Heinz Field, under the lights, and who doesn't love Sidney Crosby?  (Though I don't know much about the NHL, I know people hate him.  I don't know why.  He seems like a really nice guy and even I have heard what a great hockey player he is.)

As an aside, I remember thinking the Pens looked so sharp sporting their Winter Classic uniforms in navy and light blue--so much better than that ugly black and gold combination.  I loved the look so much that when our kids' school (whose colors are navy, silver, and white) sold spirit wear the following year, it inspired me to suggest we go with light blue and navy.  I still love those colors together.

So yes, the Winter Classic is the one hockey game a year that I watch.  I can't name a player from yesterday's game, and still the only current hockey player I know of is Sidney Crosby.  That didn't dampen the excitement for me, but I still can't be considered a hockey fan.  Not again until January 1, 2015.

A Good Year

So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, adieu, 2013.  You were mostly good.  There were lots of fun family times at the beach, in Atlanta, at Disneyland, camping in Show Low, and adventures with friends like trips to Sea World and running the Ragnar Trail race.  Brian and I also had a delightful getaway for my birthday last spring hiking Picacho Peak and Ventana Canyon together.  I stepped down from some responsibilities at school, delegated more to the parents of our girl scout troop, and I found out what it felt like to breathe again.  I was able to concentrate more on our family of four, our house, and create a more peaceful existence at home for all of us.  Elizabeth broke out of her shell a little bit by performing in the school's drama club production, the orchestra, and participating in the spelling bee, while Matthew started something new with running club and disliking his music class less.  I began my own second musical journey by picking up a guitar for the first time and eventually purchasing my very own.  I also ran a marathon horribly but learned a lot in the process, and after a few months I was finally proud of the accomplishment of training for that beast and punching it in the face (even if it was after it punched me in the face at least 26.2 times).

The year wasn't all roses, especially for some of our family and a few of my close friends.  GiGi broke her hip last December, so the first few months were a challenge for her and us as we anxiously watched and waited for her to recover fully.  I don't know what we were all worried about; she's GiGi!  There was some bad news, too.  Two of my friends made discoveries that led them to divorce, and after 42 years of marriage Brian's parents are also divorcing, though amicably.  I know there is disappointment, hurt, and pain for them and my friends, but new beginnings can be the start of something wonderful and I am hoping for the best for all of them in 2014 and beyond.

I have no resolutions or lofty goals for the new year.  I made positive changes throughout 2013 so I plan to simply continue on the same road with those.  It's time to celebrate another year on Earth and look forward to a new one of hope and possibilities.  Happy New Year!