The time I ran a half marathon

So, I ran a half marathon November 9th.  It was sort of a big deal for me.  I mean, I basically flunked out passed out off the track  in high school during a sprint.  I had to quit track because I couldn't run farther than a mile.  This was 13.1 miles, guys.  Seriously.  Thirteen point freaking one miles.

  I hurt my knee a few weeks before the half, so I was forced to take some time off after by my physical therapist and doctor (and, really, my knees.  They hate me.)  What was a month of PT and time off running has now, as of tomorrow, turned into two, and, unfortunately, is extended into the unforeseeable future.  (For those who are interested, I go back to the doctor tomorrow.  Two months of PT fixed one knee, but not the other.)

I didn't post about my half before because I was pouting.  For two months.  I stewed, pretty pissed off that I can't run.  Embarrassed, I guess, that I was posting about my half marathon as a "runner" but was unable to run.  I felt like a fraud.  (Also, spending two months working through my identity in Christ as his daughter, and not as a "runner" or some one who worked really hard at something and achieves a goal.  Tough stuff.)

But, I guess I've come to the conclusion that I DID run a half marathon (ground breaking conclusion, no?)  no matter what I'm doing now.  So, I guess I'll share. 

My friend's husband graciously picked up our packets for us and sent me a picture of my number the day before our race. 

It was a cold morning.  We had mittens, hats, coats, pants.  I almost didn't want to take off my pants for the start, but knew I'd be hot after a few miles.  (I think I gave my coat to E around mile 7.)  

My friends and I started towards the back.  I was anticipating a rather slow finish: me with my knees, my friend T who was 11 weeks postpartum, and a friend who's longest run had been 8 miles.  My goal was to finish and to have fun.

The first few miles, I entertained a few of our group by telling them about a horrendous birth I had just attended.  It was the week prior and the indignities, disrespect, and abuse were fresh on my mind.  I ranted for a good 2-3 miles.  

Mile 3 my knee is starting to stab, so I yank off the tape the PT had put on the night before at a late night appointment (6pm.  she was good to me.) 

Mile 5, and  I'm still hanging with my homies, (there's my friend T who ran the 10k with me)  Still feeling pretty good, though I remember my knee starting to hurt pretty bad. 

After mile 6 or so, my "bad" knee went completely numb.  It was seriously amazing.  When I was running, I felt little to no pain.  Every time I stopped to walk, it was painful.  

Miles 6,7,8, were pretty- most of that time spent on a greenway.  E and the kids stopped and visited, too.

Mile10- My running buddies and I had planned to do walk/run (when I trained I walked after every mile for about a minute), but I ended up breaking off  because it hurt too much to walk. 

Mile 11, I remember thinking/praying that I was actually going to do this thing.  I had 2.1 miles to go.  I was going to finish!

Mile 12, my other knee started to hurt some, but my bad knee was still numb.  I cried from the relief that I was going to finish.

Mile 13, there was a lady in front of me that had been there a while, but was slowing down.  I saw my training girls at the finish line, telling me to kick it into gear and pass her.  So, I sprint it in for the finish.  

I'm in the yellow shirt.  My chip time was something like 2:38:07

Some of my running friends.

My friend T and I. 

I did most of my training with this girl.  She's amazing!  She was such a wonderful partner.  I miss running with her like crazy!

My friend's husband captured this gem right before the finish line.  This is what I actually felt like the last .1.  

There you have it.  My half marathon.  Since it may be my only half marathon I ever run, I'm glad I was able to do it with my friends and not kill myself for a certain "time".

Christmas 2013

We try (and I emphasize "try" here)and keep Christmas low key, trying not to go overboard with consumerism and just the plain ole desire to give my children lots of good things.  We do that in a couple of ways.  One, for us, is simply setting a budget on gifts for each child, and sticking to it.  (that's the hard part for me, guys.  I'm a gift giver!  I love it!)  Another way, is by, loosely some times, following the "Something you want, something you need, something to wear, and something to read" for gifts.  We're almost finished shopping for the kids and thought I'd share.

Olivia:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (I just bought these on Clearance yesterday for $4!)
*Outfit from Gymboree
*American girl books (the old school ones.  I bought them used. :))
*toy tbd

Austin:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (again, clearance!)
*sweater from TCP (to go with his blue eyes.  *swoon*)
*space encyclopedia
*Over the door basketball hoop our nerf one just broke.  it was never that great.  We got this one from Costco, though.

Isaac:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve
*sweater from TCP
*book tbd
*sleeping bag from The Land of Nod (I won this at a friend's party last week!  Woot!)

Eliza:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (same as O's)
*this shirt with matching velvet leggings
*The Moo series board books
*Kids indoor trampoline  (we got this at Essex for a SUPER good deal, guys!  $30!)

While it seems like we're making progress here, we still have the boy's birthdays to shop for, my parents, E's parents, and my brother and sister-in-law.  I love including one hand made gift for everyone, too, if I can swing it.  Last year, it was mostly crochet items.  This year, it'll be a mix.

(btw, I'm still looking for suggestions for books for Isaac or a toy for O, who is 8.5)

A legacy

My grandpa passed away this past Saturday.  We got a call on Thursday that he had a stroke on Wednesday that left him unable to swallow or speak (he also had pneumonia and an infection in his foot.)  My grandpa had already asked that he not receive any life support, including a feeding tube.  One of my uncles traveled, immediately, up from Florida to be with him and to speak with the doctors. He did not see him until Friday morning.  My dad left on Friday, frantically trying to get there before my grandpa died. My parents were able to be with him (along with one of my uncles and aunts) as they moved my grandpa to the hospice facilities at the hospital.  My dad said that he was communicating with grunts, eye movements, and really trying to smile (he said you could tell it was frustrating him to not be able to speak.)

E and our family had packed up Friday night in efforts to leave first thing on Saturday morning to try to get to N.C. before my grandpa died.  However, my dad called at 4:30 in the morning to tell me that my grandpa had passed. (Two of my cousins had driven through the night from MI and arrived only 30 minutes or so after he died.) 

Through out the next couple of days, more and more of our family arrived.  Until all of the brothers, all but one of the 11 grandchildren, and 9 of the great grand children were gathered in Waynesville, N.C.  (we all had to travel. Not one of us lives in N.C. My grandpa moved there in his later adult life.) 

Even though we were grieving, and processing the loss of my grandpa, we were able to reconnect with our family.  My grandpa's legacy.  What a great legacy it is. 

All of us

 The brothers.  My dad is the 2nd from the right.

My family, my brother and sister-in-law and my parents

My dad and my boys.

Things I've been meaning to blog about, but haven't

Eliza got her 15 month pictures taken.  Unfortunately, I took so dang long choosing which pictures I wanted, I am still waiting to get them.  She's 16 months now. But, the sweetness.  Her complexion is just gold.  Well, ivory, really.  But, its so sweet and pale and perfect.

Our big kids were in the chorus in a musical at school- Alice in Wonderland.  I had to whip up some lobster claws for A.  The kids did great, and I enjoyed what I could while chasing a 15 month old around.  (Although, it reaffirmed by dislike of the Alice in Wonderland story/movie.  Not a fan.  I find it creepy.)

I made pirate patches for the boys' valentines.  (O didn't want to do them.  Something about pirates being for boys.  oiy!)  

I've been training for my first 10k.  My race is on Sunday.  I'm super duper nervous, especially since this week has been super light on training because of life circumstances.  But, I got my new shoes a few weeks ago, broke them in, and I'm ready to go!

We went to this super cool place called "Supper Heroes .  They have comics as art, a room with an arcade game that the kids can play while you wait for your food, even supplies to make comics of your own at the table.  The kids loved it, the food was great, and the owner came out several times to check on us.  Plus, Isaac got to wear his batman costume.  

O's injections have been going well.  As of last week (so two weeks on the medicine) she's grown as much as she had an entire 18 months.  Only 1/4 of an inch, but its huge for her!  Unfortunately, we've run into some issues with our insurance.  I have to make, likely several, phone calls today to figure things out in order for her next shipment to arrive on time.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate dealing with that sort of thing? 

Speaking of O, this girl turns eight a week from today.  Eight.  It seems so old!

Catching up

New things:

#1: Isaac turned 3. As in three years ago he was a teeny tiny newborn.  Who looked like this:

Now? He's such a ham I can barely get a picture of him.  But, he looks like this for a professional photographer:

 

Cute, no?  Still has those deep, dark, chocolate brown eyes. He's 50% in weight and 15% in height (more on that in the next number.) 

#2. O will be having her MRI done this Sunday afternoon to check her pituitary gland.  From there, we'll come up with a treatment plan for her growth hormone deficiency.  We'll also start keeping an eye on Isaac's height.  Anything under 10% will start getting some attention.  (He's still young, so he can still catch up.)  We've talked with her about how she'll have to sit still for 30 minutes in the loud machine.  I'm hoping they have fancy goggles with a tv in them like they do at our children's hospital in HSV.

#3 We thought we were having a travel free Christmas.  Until we found out my grandpa, who lives in N.C.,  isn't doing so hot.  He's lost a lot of weight and just isn't real thrilled to be living.  The last time we saw him, I was 4 weeks pregnant with A.  So, 7 years ago.  My parents and my uncle and aunt and their two kids will be going as well.  We figured we should go when other people are going.  it isn't very fun there (he's in an assisted living home) and there isn't much to do.  Not time like the present, right?

#4 We're having some behavior problems with one of our kids. We're really struggling with how to discipline.  It feels like nothing is working.  *sigh*  I keep trying to tell E that I think its from a lot of the attention on O's health the last year, since this is when the unwanted behaviors started.  I don't know.  I'm this close [___] to taking the child to the therapist to see if they could get to the bottom of it all.  I don't know how to help and it's really a crappy feeling.

#5  I've had a cough for almost two weeks.  No other real symptoms.  just a stupid, dumb, keeps-me-up-at-night cough.  I hate to call the doctor for just a cough, but yet my cough syrup box says if you have a cough for more than 7 days to call your doctor. 

#6. Eliza- she's a handful.  This is not new news.  But, it pretty much sums her up.

my hotdog got run over by a reindeer grocery cart

Yesterday went like this:

Take Isaac to gymnastics.  While at gymnastics, he has a coughing fit.  I, then, realize that  I forgot to give him his nebulizer.  (crap!)  Every one is giving us the stink eye.  You know, because he's gagging from heavy coughing and sounds like he may vomit.

While we are at gymnastics, Eliza seems to be walking funny.  Like crooked.  She seems to be a tad congested, so I'm starting to wonder if she has fluid in her ears and is just thrown off.

I gather the children up and head to Costco.  I love, love, and adore Costco.  Love it.  However, the major downside is that its on the other side of town.  There's no "good" way to get there.  Oh, there's a straight shot road from my house to Costco, but there's about 11 hundred stop lights between here and there.  (They're almost always red.  Especially when you're in a hurry!)

Eventually, I get to Costco.  I have intentions of getting hot dogs for lunch (mine with out a bun to be dairy free!) and then cruise around for a few grocery items, a gift for a friend, and Isaac's cool chair for his birthday. 

When I pull into the parking lot, I realized I forgot to pack Isaac's drink.  It wasn't a huge deal, since they sell drinks with the hot dog meals.  But, I usually bring him a sippy cup and forgo the pop/lemon aid and get him water.  I check my email and find that I got another doula job! (woot!!)

I grab the kids, throw them into a cart, and head in to return something.  We make our way to the food, buy our goodies, and move onward towards the awesomeness that is Costco at Christmas.  I find Isaac's chair (I was so worried it would be sold out!) and am confounded as to how to get it into my cart with the kids.  I move Isaac into the front seat, which he says he DOES NOT LIKE!  While he's shouting, I'm finagling the very large box into our cart, and my phone starts ringing.  I glance at the number and realize it is the big-kids' school.  I set the box down, ever so gently (bawaawa!) and talk to the school nurse.  O is crying/screaming/freaking out because her ear hurts. 

While I'm on the phone, Isaac tries to "help" and put his drink next to mine, in the back of the cart.  Except, he only has the arms of a 3 year old, and not Stretch Armstrong arms.  The drink falls 2 feet short of the actual cart, busts open, and spills its, very full, contents all over the floor. I hang up the phone, after telling the nurse I'll be there in.... um.... its lunch time and I'm at Costco, so... 45 minutes to an hour?  I have to find some one to come clean this mess up because my measly 10 paper napkins just isn't cutting it.  I'm searching around, and even find a friendly lady who is willing to help me find a worker.  I finally find a guy with a name tag, ask him if he works here, and tell him of my shame.  Thankfully, he takes care of it.

Shortly after, I make O a dr. appointment for 45 minutes from now.  That's all they have left.  I'll never make it in time to pick her up AND head to the doctor.  I enlist E's help.  (which sucks since he had to be out all day on Monday for O's growth hormone testing.)  He plans to pick her up and agrees to meet me at the doctor. 

Meanwhile, Eliza takes my bun less hot dog that's wrapped like a burrito in a piece of foil and tugs on it.  It rolls out of its packaging, and right onto the floor.  As I'm moving forward to get it, another person's cart runs right over it.  Cutting my hot dog in half. 

I rush through the line, pay for my things (which, after upon returning home, realize I forgot over half of my things.)  I have no lunch, and no time to buy a new hot dog.  So, I eat dried fruit and nuts for lunch.  Along with my diet coke.  Lunch of champions mommies.

Eliza screams almost the entire time in the car.  I make decent time, and get to the doctor on time.  While in the waiting room, Eliza seems to be getting sicker.  O's pediatric endocrinologist calls.   I take the call outside, but I can hear Eliza screaming for me as I walk out the door.  The doctor is calling to tell us that O's tests confirm a growth hormone deficiency.  He wants to schedule a MRI as soon as possible and get moving on growth hormone injections. 

I walk back into the waiting room, sort of in a daze.  Our favorite nurse calls us back.  She takes a few notes about O, glances at Eliza and says "oh no!  she looks sick!"  She is looking pretty sick.  Running a fever, too.

Our pediatrician comes in, looks in O's ear, declares an infection.  she also glances Eliza's way and says "she looks rather puney."  I asked her if she could just glance in her ears because she was walking funny earlier.  There's nothing in her ears, except Eliza's pure hatred of being messed with.  at all.  Especially when she's sick.  the dr. listens to her chest and it sounds yucky. Eliza gets her finger pricked (which she also hates, in case you were wondering!) and we are left with a diagnosis of it being viral, but to call if her fever spikes or her walking deal doesn't resolve in the next day or two.

On the way home, I'm starting to reflect on the Endocrinologist's call. 

I feel....relieved. 

 

But, also nervous. 

 

Relieved that all of the things we knew in our hearts were right.  Like how my breast milk WAS fatty enough when she was a baby and didn't grow.  How we DO feed her enough calories and fat.  How she isn't just tiny. 

 

But, nervous for what lies ahead. 

 

 Possibly daily injections.  Until puberty. 

 

Rapid growth. 

 

Big changes for her.  How will this affect her self image?  She's always been the smallest.  Always.  I would think, after almost 8 years, it'd start to be part of your identity.  How will that change when she starts growing 5 inches?  How will she see herself?  How will others see her?  (obviously, we want her to be the height she should be.  I'm not saying these things will change our course of action.  It just has me thinking.)  I imagine it would be similar to some one losing a lot of weight, or even gaining a lot of weight, in a short period. 

 

But, again, relieved.  Relieved to not have to do any more testing (other than the MRI.)

We arrive home and lay the littles down for naps.  When Eliza wakes up, her fever is up to 104.  I call the doctor's office.  Unfortunately, they left for the day ten minutes prior. 


We medicate both girls, and bathe and nurse and cuddle.  Praying prayers of thanksgiving for a treatable diagnosis.Praying tomorrow is filled with a peace that passes all understanding.  Praying the best for my baby girl O, and all of my kids.

It ended like that.

Pinterest party

Things have been busy.  (Although, when are they not?  Is this our new normal?)  I'm just now getting around to posting my baby girl's party pictures, and her party was 3 weeks ago. 

 

I have about zero time for commentary, but here are the pictures.  Pinterest was my main inspiration (though I did have some original ideas here and there.) and it didn't let me down.  The party was fantastic!  Eliza was a tad over whelmed at first, and didn't eat much (thanks to the 1.5 week long stomach bug that she started with THAT NIGHT. ack! Sorry guests! Thankfully, only one other person got sick that I know of.) but she seemed to have fun.

 

 

Birthday shirt and tutu

 

 

Hiding from the party guests

 

 

 

Dairy and Soy free chocolate cake.  Its harder to decorate than you'd think.

 

 Straight to the bath

 

Still can't believe this girl is one. 

The Color Run

Back in May (or was it March? I can't remember.) The Color Run was just coming out and it was totally the next "new" thing.  I had been looking for a 5k to run and thought that it looked promising and lots of fun.  I chatted with my long-time friend Raechel, and we joined as a team (because, come on, you get it cheaper that way!) along with her husband, Ryan.

 

Now, as it happens, both of our lives got insanely busy as the months went on.  We had already signed up and paid, so we were going to run it.  But, at the race,  the three of us were commenting on how we really didn't feel invested.  We were excited, but not nearly as excited as the man getting to run in his Elvis suit, or the lady wearing a wedding dress.  We felt under-enthused and under-dressed.

 

Even ill prepared as we were, we still had a ton of fun!   While it was MUCH different than what I was expecting (a lot of walkers, very few runners) we still managed to finish in only a minute over what my very first 5k time was two years ago (?!?)  We got to experience parts of Nashville I've never seen, and we ran through a yellow color "cloud" in an alley that was a totally different experience, unlike anything I have done or ever will do again. (Imagine walking into an actual cloud, but yellow.)  The other colors were fun, but nothing quite like that yellow.

(Speaking of the other colors, did any of the videos turn out, Rae?)



 

 



2/3 of Team Color My Feet.

 Raechel and I are down there somewhere.  Likely waiting in line for the world's worst port-a-john.

(also, E's finger.)

 My crew came out to cheer us on, sock feet and all. (I like to pretend these things don't happen when I'm not around.  I packed her shoes. But, alas, photographic evidence.)

 

 At the finish line there was a color throw.  We did not fully participate because we didn't realize there was a countdown based on the wave of runners you were in.  We just threw our packets up into the air on each other.

 

 

 After the race.  We're 30, kicking butt, and taking names!

 

 

Me, after sunglasses removal

A year

Its amazing how quickly a year can go by.  (It always seems so much faster when the kids are really little.  Maybe because they change so much in a year?)

 

 

From this:

 

 

To this:

 

Inside, night time pictures are never good.  I'm glad I got a few earlier in the day.

Guys, this girl.  She melts me heart.

He has me in stiches

Zeke's ankle bracelet



Saturday evening, we had to make our second, ever, E.R. visit. (Unfortunately, it was for the same child. He had a concussion before.)

We were heading to Grandma's house for dinner. Isaac asked to wear his Cars jammies. I mean, it was almost dinner time, we were just going to grandma's house, and he'd be changing into his jammies there soon anyway. Why not let him wear p.j.s?

Well, it turns out that we did make another stop. As we were getting everything/one loaded into the van, Isaac climbed up into his seat, as usual. He leaned over the edge to look at something (we think here. Not really sure.) and he fell out of his seat, out of the van, onto the garage floor. He bit all the way through his lip.

Now, as it happens, E and I weren't standing right there. I was getting food, diapers, etc. for Eliza in the house. E was loading up the back of the van. All of a sudden, I hear E yell my name. He yelled it in such a way that I knew some body had to go to the hospital. He brought in a screaming Zeke, completely covered in blood. (Y'all, it was so much blood. All over my sweet babies face, shirt and hands.)

I quickly grabbed a wet towel to put pressure on it. After I held it there for a second, I lifted up the now very bloody rag (which, of course, was a stark white burp cloth of Eliza's. oh well. She took one for the team.) and saw how bad it really was.

Thankfully, the other three kids were already buckled in their seats, waiting to go to grandma's. We rushed to the brand new E.R. right around the corner (which, in hindsight, we should've gone to the ped's E.R. Its a longer drive, but usually a shorter wait. Plus, much better for kiddos.) They sort of freaked when they saw blood all over him. We hadn't taken the time to clean him up. I just put pressure on it, drove with me sitting next to him keeping pressure on it. I hadn't even thought of the blood elsewhere.

We then proceeded to wait for 3.5 hours. Through out the course of the 3.5 hours, Isaac kept a diaper (cloth) pressed up against his lip. (He said the pressure made it feel better.) He was mostly calm, snugly, unless he had to take the pressure off for a nurse/orderly/doctor to check his lip. Then, it would start bleeding again, and he'd start crying again.  

 



 

At one point, he even got up and played with the sand table.  It didn't last long, however, because he couldn't do much with one hand.  When he let go to try to slide the critters over, he started screaming again.

 

Thankfully, my IL's came and got O and A right away.  They ate dinner at their house.  Eliza hung with us for a while.  E was chasing after her while I snuggled Zeke.  After hour 3, we had them stop by the hospital to pick up Eliza (after I nursed her) and take them all to our house to go to bed.  

 



 



 

 

One of the hardest times in my parenting career previously was watching a very tiny, and very dehydrated, O get an I.V. They couldn't find a vein and it was very rough.  Watching Zeke get his stitches was right up there with that, guys.  I was secretly balling inside.  They swaddled him in a blanket, then removed his diaper (which he kept screaming "I need my rag!!") then they held him down while the dr. injected the litocain into his wide-open lip.  It was terrible.  There was blood every where (since it started bleeding like crazy again when they took off the diaper.) he was swallowing it, and they just kept sticking him with the needle. 

 

The actual stitches went much better, but they covered his eyes.  He kept calling out for E and I, and we kept reassuring him that we were there, touching his knee/foot/leg, etc.  

After all of that was finished, all he could concentrate on was the strings in his lip.  He kept begging us to take them out.  That was when the nurse took him to pick out a Popsicle. (hurrah!) 

When we got home, he had some apple sauce and crashed. (by then, it was 9:30.) 

 

 

 

The day after:

 

He doesn't seem to mind the stitches much now.  The hardest part has been his inability to suck his fingers for comfort.  He's having a really hard time falling, and staying, asleep.  So, he's extra tired, and he can't even comfort himself when he's grumpy/angry/sad/frustrated either. *sigh* 

 

So, that was our Saturday evening.  While it was an adventure, I think I'd rather hang out at home in our jammies next time.