Surely she can't be talking about Boston again already. I am. And don't call me Shirley.

I can't stop thinking about Boston.

Should I run it? Should I skip it?

What will I do with the kids?  Do I really want to spend all of that money to go and run it again?

Will I be miserable if I don't run it?  Will I be lost to go through another training season without a goal?

On one hand I know that I will probably never be in a better position, as far as my qualifying time, to run it.  Even with the projected record number of people who will try to register my time from last year allows me to register first.  Its unlikely I will be in that position again.

Sure, I could be if I wanted to.  But while I love running it isn't my life.  I'm not willing to sacrifice every free minute of my life to eek out a slightly lower marathon PR.  If 3.19 is as fast as I ever get I have decided that will be good enough.

But is one Boston marathon good enough?  I don't know.

When I ran it last year it was ah-maze-ing.  Flippin' amazing.  Best race ever.  Its unlikely that 2014 will be as good.  Nothing ever is the 2nd time around.  But this time it could be an entirely different experience.  Running it without all of the first timers jitters.  Running it to appreciate the course and all of the history that happens each year on Patriot's Day.

Plus my dear running buddies have been lighting up my inbox this week with Boston chatter.   There are 6 of us who have qualified to run it.  It would be so, so, SO much fun to be there with them again.

But on the other hand it is doubtful that Ryan could go with me this time.  It would feel kind of weird without him.  And I've yet to experience a Kansas winter but the rumors do have me a little nervous about the kind of cold weather I would have to train through.

So that is where I am.  Undecided.

Essential oils in everyday life: an explanation

I am often asked to explain just what are Young Living essential oils and how do I use them.  I always feel like a deer stuck in the headlights because there are so many ways that I use them and for so many different purposes that I have trouble focusing my mind and giving a clear explanation.  Instead I get all excited and just start blabbering until I'm pretty sure the inquirer is sorry that they ever asked.   So it struck me that maybe I could write a post detailing the ways I use oils throughout the day - so that after I've thoroughly confused someone with my poor verbal explanation I can at least refer them to a post that will do a better job of explaining.

So, buckle up.

This morning I woke up and went for a run.  After my run I was pretty stinky but didn't have time to shower.  So I splashed some sage oil on in certain, ahem, areas to help me get by until later.  Sage does an amazing job of covering up and even removing odors.

Then it was time to get the kiddos going.  Jake was up and needed to start on his morning routine so I put some Clarity oil on his neck to help him focus.  Clarity is a blend of 12 different essential oils specifically created to help with memory retention and mental alertness.  I also put a dab on my neck and breathed in deeply to help my scatter-brained craziness when I'm trying to get 3 kids out the door.  Jake was ready to go with plenty of time to spare.

Next up was rousing Ainsley from bed.  That girl loves her sleep.  So I took my peppermint oil in and had her smell it and then put a small dab on her wrist.  That is enough to help her get up and going without my having to drag her kicking and screaming out of bed.

I turned around and Jane Dare was behind me complaining that her tummy hurt.  Luckily I had my go-to upset tummy remedy already in my hand and so I dabbed a couple drops on her tummy and rubbed in around counter-clockwise.  As always it worked like a charm.

In the next few days I'll be adding another step back into my morning routine - a drop of Thieves oil rubbed into the feet before shoes and socks go on.  Thieves is an amazing anti-viral and I use it like crazy during cold and flu season.  The kids had an occasional quick bout with a bug last year but thanks to Thieves it never spread through the house, it was short lived and I was healthy the entire season.

During the day I will pull out my homemade cleaner made from lemon oil and water for light cleaning around the house.  I'll run a load of laundry using lavender oil & vinegar in the rinse cycle instead of fabric softener.  Next up if its time for some more heavy duty cleaning or spot cleaning the carpets I grab my Thieves cleaner - mixed up from the Thieves concentrated household cleaner - and tackle any tough jobs.  If a scrape or bug bite happens I have Purification on hand to cleanse the wounds, ease the pain and/or control itching.

At nap time I love my Peace and Calming blend to help my little ones get a little rest.  In fact, when Jake is having trouble sleeping at night he comes and asks me to rub it on his feet*.  Nine times out of ten he is asleep in minutes.

Before the kids come home from school, or before any stressful time, I love to pull out my Valor because I struggle some with anxiety and its bend of spruce, rosewood, blue tansy and frankincense helps me to remain calm.  Valor is also a favorite oil that I use on my mom - its absolutely amazing on back pain.

This evening, after her bath, Ainsley had yucky residue all over her knee from a band-aid.  Instead of rubbing it raw to get it off I just put a couple of drops of Citrus Fresh (lemon also works) and it and gently massaged it in and then wiped away the gunk.

And finally, tonight before I hit the hay I will be using some Aroma Siez and Pan Away on a few sore muscles (still trying to get used to this whole running on my forefoot thing) and then drift off to dream land.

All of these products I can use with full confidence knowing that I'm using the best oils available from a  company that is committed to sustainable practices that ensure the purity of the oil and protection of the environment  (for more on that you can click here).

*Why the feet?  The feet have the 2nd largest pores of any place on your body which allows the oil to be quickly absorbed and reach your blood stream faster.

We're not in NC anymore Toto

I've mentally written this blog post so many times since we have moved.  But whenever I tried to sit down and put thoughts on the page something would come up.  Its been like that ever since we set out on this journey on June 10th when the packers showed up at our house.  Crazy, nuts, overwhelmingly busy.  I had in my mind that moving wasn't really a big deal.  Get the house rented out, let the movers transport our worldly good, pack the kids in the car and drive.
I'm an idiot.
Moving is a whole freakin' lot of work.  There's the planning.  And the cleaning.  And the sorting.  And the repairing.  And the trips to Goodwill.  And the ingenuity of doing without 95% of your worldly possessions.  And the insurance (can I insert a curse word here).  And therapy changes.  And outfitting of a new house.  New schools. New doctors.  New emergency contacts.  5 million forms.  Add a kid with an IEP to all that and you have a process that never seems to end.
But we are getting there in spite of it all.  This week I even undertook a couple of house projects - a sure sign that we are digging our way out and there is a light at the end of this tunnel (and if you even think about reminding me that we will do this all again in 10 months I might have to hurt you).
So, was it worth it?
ABSOLUTELY.  We are having a great time.
We are beyond blessed with the neighbors and friends that we have already made.  And the opportunity to reconnect with some old friends.
Living on post is a totally new experience and its been awesome.  Y'all - my kids ride their bikes to school!!!  How cool is that?
Right now outside my very window three dudes just cut, edged and blew away my grass.  Hello?  Nice!
At any given moment there is a gaggle of girls at any number of houses playing and laughing.  And a group of boys playing video games or jumping on the trampoline.
And if we are friends on facebook you already know that practically every night there is a block party here on Hollowell Drive (or as we have nicknamed our end of the street "Pikachu Village").
Sure we miss our friends in NC, the opportunity to see our families on a regular basis and the community we had at church and school.  But we know that we will be back there and our friends there are the kind who aren't going anywhere.  They will be ready to pick up our relationships where things left off.  And in the meantime we can stay connected through facebook, phone calls and text messages.
This time in Kansas will be short.  Many have said that being at CGSC is supposed to be the "best year of your life".  Is that true?  Who knows.  Personally I would be depressed to think that any given period of time would be as good as it is ever going to get.  But I do know that for us it will be a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Never again will we live on post in this part of the country with so many friends in neighbors in such close proximity.
And so we are determined to make the most we can out of this year.  And so far we are doing a pretty great job.
PS - please remind me of this when we are under 2 feet of snow in winter ;)

Photos of the kids feeding baby pygmy goats at the Deanna Rose Farmstead.

Never say never

*disclaimer before you start reading and get all riled up at me.  I have NO problem with people who choose to homeschool. Some of my dearest friends homeschool.  Some of those friends now have college age kids and if my children end up anything like their grown children I will be one happy mom.

I’ve never wanted to homeschool.  I don’t look good in denim skirts and, frankly, white Keds just get dirty too quickly.

There was a time that I was adamant that I would NEVER homeschool.  While other little girls played imaginary games where their stuffed animals were pupils and they were teachers I was never that girl.   I preferred to spend hours in Barbie land.  Teaching just wasn’t in me.

After I had kids I had a little change of heart where I told the Lord that if it was NECESSARY, life and death, and he laid it on my heart I would consider homeschooling.  I warned Him that there would probably be some Gideon-like antics on my part to be sure that I was hearing correctly.  I even got a fleece ready.

Its not just that I don’t feel called to be a teacher, its also that I feel school and being in the world and being salt and light is important.  Every family has to make the decisions that they feel are best for themselves and for us we felt like school was it.  And every time I saw an article posted to Facebook about how much smarter homeschooled kids are, or comments from the moms who just loooovvvveee all that togetherness & pj time and they have with their kids and all the “amazing” projects they do, or a clip on Pinterest about how schooling at home is the way that it SHOULD be done (i.e. we are doing it right and the rest of you are doing it wrong) my resolve to NOT homeschool got stronger.

Then along came Jake.  I felt strongly that with his social issues he needed to be in the classroom with other kids.  There are a myriad of social interactions every day at school and all of them are important for him to learn to navigate the circus of life.  Deep sigh of relief.

Jake and Mrs. Edens - 1st grade teacher extraordinaire

Then came Ainsley, our social butterfly.  On Jake’s first day of kindergarten I had to drag her out of the room.  By the time I got her brother settled she had already made herself familiar with the costume center and was dressed in fairy wings.  At the end of each day when we talk about our favorite part of the day 99% of the time Ainsley’s answer is “the whole part where I was at school”, or some variation of that.  When she got the stomach bug back in January the first thing she said after she threw up was “oh no, what if I can’t go to school on Monday.”  This girl seriously loves school.  And school seriously loves her back.  Again, whew!  Dodged the homeschool bullet for another kid.

Ainsley with Mrs. Zwart and Mrs. Williams - I love these two ladies!

Then came Reid.  Darn that kid.  He has screwed everything up.  He still naps 2 hours a day and sleeps 11 hours a night.  He plays hard and sleeps harder.  I’ve waited all year for him to grow out of his need for naps but it hasn’t happened.  That combined with his delay in developing some of his emotional maturity had made me a nervous wreck about kindergarten.  I didn’t want to hold him back if it wasn’t necessary but I just wasn’t sure!  And he was so excited about starting real school like Jake and Ains.  And one day it hit me – we have this next year in Kansas to be more flexible then we have ever been before.  Plus, Ryan will be around more than he has ever been before.  Reid & Ryan are my two peas in a pod. I hated the idea of having Reid in school all day while Ryan was home.   So everything has changed – but in a way I am super excited about.  I am going to keep Reid and Jane Dare home next year and do preschool & kindergarten at home.  Obviously I have no idea what I am doing however, I don’t feel a lot of pressure.  My reasoning is that if it goes great and Reid matures and learns a lot he can start 1^st grade when we get back to Pinehurst Elementary.  If it doesn’t go so well and he doesn’t reach the standards I will set then when we get back he will start Kindergarten.  Either way it’s a win.  If we succeed I will have a fun year at home with him and send him to school confident that he is ready.  If I don’t succeed I still will have a fun year with him and get to send him to Kindergarten with the same teachers that Jake and Ainsley had – two of my favorite teachers on this planet.  Win-win.

So, the next step is planning mode. I need suggestions to help us have a successful year of kindergarten at home.  Ready? Go!

Reid-o-Torpedo

Running is my time to think.  To process life, come up with plans, to dream up schemes and ideas.  It truly is time to give me some sanity.  Never has that been more clear to me than in the past few days when I haven't been able to run due to a sore knee.  I was pretty dern cranky I will tell you.  I cried a lot, at the drop of a hat, for no apparent reason.  If I thought trying to keep a marathon training scheduling going while also single parenting was tough I had obviously forgotten what its like to do the total opposite.  Pretty much just as tough.
So after some rest, lots of ice and a few sessions with a foam roller I set out on an easy run this morning.  It was so nice to let my brain go and work through all that is going on in our life right now.  At the top of my mental "need to process list" was Jake's terrible, no good, very bad day that he had yesterday.  There are so many things going on in his little life that I can't control and after I'm done being strong and sure for him I need some time to have a little break down session of my own.  Or, more than one.  I realized today that I have my own stages of grief, so to speak, that I work through when something happens to my kids.
The first is tears.  I cry for them and with them.  Nothing hurts this mama's heart worse than seeing the pain of rejection on my kiddos' face.
The second stage is talking.  I feel the need to tell anyone who will listen to me about what happened. I need to feel their support and, to be honest, shared horror at the trial that has beset my sweet baby.  If I can't find someone to talk to then I will usually post it as a status update on facebook.  Nothing makes me feel better than 39 comments all decrying the grievous act(s) against my child.
The third stage is the one that I worked through this morning on my run.  It involves daydreaming about how to maturely handle the situation as a wise and calm parent.  For example, today I imagined running into a certain child in the hall, gently taking him aside to talk to him and patiently explaining to him how disappointed I am by his actions.  It goes something like this:
 "Listen you little
shitdear,
if you ever tell my kid that he isplease don't tell my kid that he is weird
again I will break youit hurts his feelings and makes him very sad
I will hunt you down when you least expect it and .... 
You see, calm, mature, wise and I'm sure it would really get through to that child that he shouldn't say unkind words to my son.  In reality though I do nothing of the sort.  I really thought about and decided that even saying something to the kid's mom wasn't right at this time.  Jake does do some things that are weird and as much as I want to put a protective bubble around him I know that I can't.  And as he gets older the other kids are going to notice some of his quirks more and more.  I need to pick my battles.  And Jake is going to have to learn that certain things, like carrying a pink, stuffed guinea pig to school every day, are going to cause him to get some unwanted attention.  Its a social norm thing that most kids learn at an early age, and it comes naturally, I think. But for Jake those norms aren't as obvious. And I fear that he is going to have to go through a lot worse than just someone calling him weird to get him to change some of his behaviors.
For me that means a future with lots of tears, lots of ranting facebook status updates, and plenty of miles.        

still here

I always assumed that the Boston Marathon would be a "one and done" type situation for me.  Its not cheap to fly to Boston.  Its definitely not cheap to stay in Boston.  And I feel guilty and selfish basing our getaway weekends around going for a very long run.

So I was determined to soak up absolutely everything about the marathon.  And I did.  We had a blast eating at a fabulous restaurant in the North End.  We sang "Sweet Caroline" as we cheered on the Red Sox (and my new favorite AL player - Dustin Pedroia).  We saw Desiree Davila and Josh Cox at the amazing expo.  We mastered (ok, floundered along but figured out) the T.  We saw the performers at Faneuil Hall.  I ran my best race ever.  In the most amazing place ever. With the most awesome spectators ever.  I felt satisfied.

And now I don't.  It wasn't finished like I wanted.  I would go back to Boston tomorrow and just sit and remember and heal a little bit if I could.  But life doesn't go like that and I'm chin deep in moving plans and end of the year festivities.

But I still want to go back.  I want to run that marathon again and make it the experience that I wanted - but make it in full.  I don't even care if I PR again next time.  I just want to be there.  To have that bond together with so many others who were touched so deeply by this tragedy.

I don't know if it will happen. I haven't even broached the subject here at casa T knowing that as my husband is still reeling the cost of the last trip might not be the best time to tell him I'm ready to book the next trip.  I almost booked a Boston hotel for next year today - was one click away but stopped when I realized that although the reservation has a no cancellation penalty until 36 hours before check in, I would still be charged the full amount today.  I decided not to see what something like that showing up on the credit card would do to my sweet love (even if the savings are over 50% what they are around marathon booking time).

I'm feeling more like myself every day.  Less sleepy.  I didn't even take a nap two days in a row now.  That must be progress.  Thanks for all the love, care and prayers.  I can feel them.

The days after

How am I doing?

Its a question I'm getting asked a lot lately.  And for some reason the usual response of "Great, and you?" isn't cutting it.

I haven't tried out my actual desired response yet which is "I'm crappy.  Looking for a hole to hide in. Please pretend like you don't see me".  I fear it would not be well received and possibly viewed as bitchy. Who, me?

I really am so very grateful for everyone's concern.  But the combination of a blog post that had about 20x's more viewership than a usual post, a front page newspaper quote and the general care and concern of so many sweet acquaintances has me wanting to run for cover.

I'm weird.  That is how I am.  I don't know how I am supposed to be feeling.  I cry.  I get sad.  I get mad.  I snap at my kids and wonder how someone who just had the experience I did could possibly be snapping at her kids.  I want to sleep.  Like, a lot.

Today I went for a run.  I didn't care what training books or post-marathon recovery articles recommend I needed today's run like I need oxygen.  I felt the tears starting before I even locked up my car and hit the road.  I ran with a tissue.  I turned up my music.  Loud.  I ran faster than I should have.  I ran longer than I should have.  When I was done I started to feel a little like me again for the first time in days.

I feel silly.  I feel like I should not feel so different.  So raw.  I didn't see the carnage.  I wasn't on the scene.  What is wrong with me?

My brother, the wise judge, and my husband, the wise psychologian (long time joke, no time to explain) assure me nothing is wrong with me.  That this is normal.  But I feel broken.  I feel like my heart, my natural optimism, my desire to believe and hope for the best might not be the same ever again.

For now I'm going to keep taking naps.  Keep running.  Keep apologizing to my kids.  Keep forcing myself out of my shell -my brother made me promise I would keep a date with some girlfriends tomorrow for our monthly accountability and sharing time.  Keep praying for the people of Boston.  Keep praying for the wounded.  Keep praying for Christ to come quickly.