Notes to Self...

Notes to Self:

1. Do not sign up to teach four classes at NOVA, plus work part time for non-profit organization, plus be the mother of five children. If you do, the following will occur:

A) You will go crazy.
B) Your house will look like a crime scene. Every. Single. Day.
C) You will be behind in all aspects of your life.
D) You will not write another blog post until the semester is over. (I taught my last class today, can you tell?!)

2. Remember that teaching brings joy - this is important to remember especially when you are in the middle of grading 120 essays. A couple more hints:

A) Do non rewrite your syllabus because you are getting bored with the old syllabus.
B) If you are asked to teach an ENG 111/ENF class...say yes (unless it is the 4th class of a semester - see #1). The second language students work hard, struggle, and inspire. Your ENG 111/ENF class made you a better person.

3. If anyone ever asks you to participate in a 200 mile relay race, say...YES!!! This was hands-down the best thing you did this spring. The laughter, the middle-of-the-night legs, the bonding with your girls and friends, the handoffs, and the joy. 

4. Start blogging again. Stick with short blogs. One paragraph tops. Chances are, you'll actually blog more regularly that way. 

Three Generation Race

Making a correlation between road races and life's journey is nothing new. However, on January 1st, the symbolism of the race tugged at my heart, making this year's Resolution Race all the more poignant and memorable.

For the first time, I ran a race with my parents and every member of my family (Charlotte and Owen did the 4K, but I'm counting it!).

In addition, we were joined this year by the Lush family--including Maria, my awesome running partner--and the Schoeny family.

Charlotte was the first to take off. She sprinted down the grass hill, her blond hair flying behind her. We cheered from the top of the hill. Oh the bitter cold! We hopped, skipped, and bounced to stay warm before our starting time. We followed the fitness trainer's instructions to dance to the music (some more enthusiastically than others) as we waited. Grandma was a dancing genius! She and Poppy were darling as they partnered up, danced toward each other, and do-si-doed arm in arm.

Right before our start, I frantically looked for Maria and was thrilled when she and her boys ran up to join us at the starting line. Madi and Elise started the race at the front of the line, pumped and ready to win. Gift certificates are powerful motivators.

The race wound its way on gravel roads up through Morvan Park to the beautiful mansion. For the 5K, it's a down and back which meant I was able to see Madi and Elise, give them a high-five, and confirm that they indeed were in 1st and 2nd place for the girls.

During, the final stretch back up the hill, Madi and Elise (who had already finished) ran back down to join me. Madi encouraged, "You can do it Mom! Start your sprint!" With their cheers in my ears, their shoes in cadence with mine, my breathing loud, and my heart pounding, I charged up that darn grassy hill. As soon as I took a minute to catch my breath, we all ran back to join Grandma and Poppy for their finish.

On to the awards ceremony! We cheered as each person claimed their prize. Madi 1st overall girl, Elise 2nd overall girl, me (yes, slow me!) 3rd overall girl. Grandma 1st in her age category. Poppy 1st in his age category. Paul 3rd overall for the 10K--he's the true athlete amongst us! My favorite moment was when Paul told the announcer, "I'm a friend of the Abbes" to round out the ongoing joke of the Abbes sweeping the awards.

We pooled our winning certificates and celebrated at Shenanigans in Leesburg for dinner.

Here are my race-life-connections:

1. I try harder when someone encourages me. 

2. I try even harder when someone stays by my side through the hardest part.

3. A finish line is better with friends and family. The shared-experience. The shared-accomplishment. The shared-celebration.

4. Family is everything. How I love sharing this race/this life with them! 

Snow and Light

The snow is here. I watched the world outside my kitchen window transform this afternoon from a silent brown to a soft blur of white. Mother nature has given me a weekend to breathe, remember, and write.

December was a flurry of activity (all without a single flake of snow!). My parents came to visit for two weeks. We packed our schedule full of seasonal fun. One highlight, for me, was Carols by Candlelight at the National Cathedral. We arrived in a downpour. Rain fell in sheets, drenching my parents and hiding the tall stone pillars which seemed to disappear in the grey sky. My mom spent the evening literally wringing and shaking out her soaked skirt.

However, the music and glow of the evening warmed my soul. Near the end of the service, we lit our taper candles. From our view in the balcony, I watched as the light spread from person to person, down the rows until the cathedral twinkled like a starry night sky. The hope. The warmth of humanity. The light.

My hope for this coming year...no, it's always my hope, my never-ending hope, is that my life (and the lives of my children) can be filled with light.

The Smallest Moment

Thanksgiving is filled with happy moments, isn't it? 

Pie moments 

Whipping cream moments 

 Dessert table moments. My personal favorite this year: cranberry upside down cake!

 Kitchen island overflowing with goodness moment. 

Ice skating with friends moment.

 Charlotte-antics moment.

Truman summed up the day best when he said, "I wish everyday could be Thanksgiving!" My son speaks truth.

Of all these moments, however, my favorite Thanksgiving moment yesterday was so fleeting, I'm sure no one noticed but me. The pies were made, the three tables were set, the house was clean (thank you to my five helpful children!), our friends had arrived, and even the blessing on the meal had been said. Owen and I stood side by side for the slightest moment. Our backs were against the kitchen sink, and I took in the sight. All that delicious (shall I say gourmet?!) food covered the kitchen island, the kitchen bustled with children getting in line to fill their plates, and the family room echoed with the sound of talking and laughter in our home. I squeezed Owen's hand for a second and he squeezed back.

That hand squeeze with my husband signified so much. It was a thank you, a "look how our kids have grown", a "we're getting older but I still love you",  a "how wonderful to have a full house," and a "look at all our blessings!" moment. It was celebration mixed with the kind of gratitude that humbles me and fills my heart to the aching point.

So on this Thanksgiving weekend, I am thankful for all the moments, small and large, quiet and rambunctious, tear-filled and belly-laugh-filled, alone and crowded, and, of course, the tiny but oh so significant hand-squeeze moments that fill my life with joy.  

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Lessons from XCountry

For Madi, this was the season of overcoming an injury. After doctor appointments and a brutal needle compression test last spring, we weren't sure what to expect this cross country season. Madi started seeing a chiropractor, and little by little the numbness and lower leg pain subsided. However, the mental struggle coupled with lingering pain made the first few races challenging.

This was the season of personal dedication and discipline. Madi decided to make drastic changes to her "fuelling." No desserts. No candy. No refined starches. More real food. Lots of fruits, veggies, and protein. Her favorite breakfast was her powershake: half a banana, 1/2 cup almond milk, ice, and two dollops of peanut butter. I watched, in awe, as Madi exercised discipline time and time again. No candy on Halloween. No apple fritters when I made them for a party. It was tough. But she was tougher. The coach also modified her workouts, catering them to her (which often meant less miles).

It worked. Madi ran a fantastic final three races of the season at crucial team moments. The Valley girls were seated 5th at Conference, and they needed to be in the top three teams to continue on to regionals. Madi took a tremendous 2nd place finish for her team. At Regionals, they had another surprise finish allowing them to continue to states. 

Here are the Viking girls at Conference, Oatlands, VA. 

This was the season of surprise endings. At States this past Friday, the girls were told by their coaches, "When we crunch the numbers, it looks like you could place from 9th to 2nd place. If everyone on the team has a good day...you could get 2nd." But it was a long shot, at best. They were seated and expected to get to 7th out of 15 teams.

The autumn day started chilly especially with a brisk breeze which sent showers of leaves tumbling from their last perch on trees. But the sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. Owen took the day off so we could support Madi together. And Glen and Karen came to join us as we cheered on the Valley Vikings. The race snaked across long stretches of meadow, hugged the woods, and charged up hills. In the last mile of the race, Madi had made her way to third place for her team and in the top 25 overall (there were 100 runners in the race). With two teammates in front of her, the Vikings looked like they were having a solid race. 

We had no idea just how good they performed until, to everyone's surprise, they announced Vikings girls placed 2nd overall at state! A huge accomplishment considering they were seated 7th. My favorite moments of the day: seeing the girls from across the field in their final huddle/prayer right before the race, watching Madi charge up the final hill, running alongside Owen as we moved to our next cheering spot, seeing Coach Joan skip and leap when she found out the girls got 2nd place, snapping shots of the girls being interviewed by local journalists about their surprise victory, standing next to Karen in the loooonnnng line to get Madi a shirt, and embracing Madi to celebrate her accomplishment.

Here, the girls are interviewed by journalist about their surprise performance.

These shoes have run many miles together this season.

Celebrating 2nd place - we're counting it as a Viking Victory!

Below is my favorite picture of the season. The girls had just finished their regional meet, securing a place at States. This was their cool down run in the twilight of an autumn evening. 

I've always loved running. I've been running since I was in 2nd grade when my Dad would take me running with him after work. But there's something even more inspiring and satisfying about watching my children run. It's bigger...nostalgic and epic at the same time. It's the archetypal journey coupled with the inner struggle. My girls run faster than I ever have in my life. And although I love to see them and their team succeed, it's the determination and sacrifice before the races--in the training and discipline--that make the victories memorable. 

Peacocks and Angels

When my NYC weekend adventure plans were dashed, my plan B was a DC day. At my friend's urging (she actually said, "Your kids HAVE to see this room!"), I took my kids to the Peacock Room in the Freer Gallery. Since it was a Tuesday and a non-school holiday, we had the room basically to ourselves.

The gilded room holds an eclectic collection of vases from Asia and the Middle East with a beautiful Whistler painting as the centerpiece. After a quick look around, we sat on the bench in the middle of the room and thumbed through a book with information about the room. Using the pictures in the book, we played an impromptu game of "I spy" and tried to locate the items shown on each page. The result was a mini treasure hunt for turquoise vases, textured pottery, gold painted butterflies, and peacock feathers (which we found on the ceiling!). The hardest to find was a cat statue, no bigger than a salt shaker, that we finally found sitting at the feet of the woman in the painting.

Next, we selected our favorite item in the room and shared it with each other. Elise liked a purple vase with sapphire streaks trailing down the sides like a rain storm. I love when my children interact and connect with art.  

Madi chose our lunch spot: Sweet Green. According to our GPS, it was only .8 miles away which we decided was a doable distance. When we arrived at the .8 destination, the restaurant was no where to be found. So we continued to the next closest one...another .7 miles away. There were a couple moments when we all seriously doubted if the food would be worth long walk. Charlotte was the hero of the walk, keeping her complaining to a minimum as she held tightly to her McDonalds bag.

Sweet Green did not disappoint! Organic, locally grown vegetables make the most delicious salads. I had the Wild Child Grain Bowl: organic wild rice + organic baby spinach, cilantro, peppers, raw beets, shredded cabbage, carrots, raw seeds, avocado, miso sesame ginger dressing. Delicious!!

Our final stop was to visit an old friend of mine...in the American Art Gallery. I visited this sweet angel every week during my lunch break when I worked as an editor on Pennsylvania Ave. She is still as serene as ever, her feathers still so pristinely white. Although she hasn't aged a day, I certainly have! The last time I visited I was so young...probably about 24. I thought my life was so "crazy" and "busy" back then with my full time job and daily commute into the city. How wonderful and strange to bring my children to the museum to see her. My life is still "crazy" and "busy" just in a completely different way.  On a day like this--visiting art and eating good food--I'm grateful for all my crazy/busy, the chance to hold Charlotte's hand for 3 miles, and time spent with my favorite five angels.

Passage of Time

I've been thinking about "time" lately. A speaker at my church began his talk (sermon) with the following statistics: the average American will spend 9 years of their life watching TV, 1 year cleaning, and 4 years driving. 70% of our life is spent in front of multi-media. In addition, women spend 8 years shopping and nearly 1 year deciding what to wear.

Wow, time adds up quickly, especially when you consider we sleep for 25 years over a lifetime. Just with those statistics, the remaining time is limited and precious. And I didn't even look up the statistic for time spent working at a job!

Lately, the seasons seem to change more quickly. Autumn appeared overnight, with a blushing tree and a sudden drop in temperature. One night this week I awoke shivering, and was actually surprised! I tiptoed upstairs in the dark, dug out the heavy blankets, and tucked one over each sleeping child. The cold came so quickly, I was unprepared...almost accosted by it.  On Monday, frost painted my car windows. I scraped hurriedly, sending puffs of white crystals into the dark morning air. Madi was late to early morning seminary.

In an effort to preserve (or cling!) to the season, I scramble to fit in the autumn traditions. Pumpkin and apple picking. Cookie baking. Caramel apples. Autumn runs. Halloween decorating.

But it's more than just the seasons. Yesterday, I waited with Madi in the doctor's office so she could get some blood tests done (nothing serious, just testing for iron levels). She was brave - even when her vein collapsed and they had to do a second needle in the same arm! I found myself thinking about the first doctor appointment I took her to...fifteen years ago. She was two weeks old and had to get some shots. She cried, of course, and so did I. I remember after the shots were finished and Madi and I were still crying, the kind nurse said, "Take your time here in the room." And so I did. I rocked her until she stopped crying and had fallen asleep in my arms.

Was that really 15 years ago? How could time have moved along so fast? How is this sweet first baby of mine get so tall (5' 6") and grown up? When did she become tough and brave?

On my best days, I'm aware of the passage of time and try to drink in the present. I hold Charlotte in a tight hug a little longer, I make dinner with a little more care and gratitude, and I actually listen as my children tell me about their day. I champion family walks, I walk my daughter to the bus stop, and say yes to the request for "one more chapter, please!"

I pause.

I get two more autumns with Madi before she goes to college. Pause. I try not to cry, try not to curse the quick passage of time, try not to feel too much guilt about the years that unconsciously seemed to slip by.

Instead, today, I will try to pause.