Singing the Hokey Pokey while all Hell breaks loose

My two littlest kids go to a wonderful little preschool that is housed in a church on the campus of The University of Texas. The very same campus that yesterday had a gunman walk into a library and kill himself after walking several blocks and firing his AK-47 randomly.

Yesterday morning was one for the books.

I was scheduled to be the “helping parent” in Campbell’s class, which meant we had to be at school by 8:15. As I was turning across Guadalupe into the parking lot, police cars came flying down the street, lights and sirens going. It looked like something out of a movie. When we got inside, one of the school moms was standing in the entry talking about a gunman on campus.

All the parents there, myself included, immediately reached for their phones to find information online, only to be disappointed. One of the teachers turned on a radio in her class, and the morning DJs were talking about a hot sauce festival. We had no idea what was going on.

Slowly the news filtered in that there was indeed a gunman and that the campus was on “In Shelter” mode, which meant that everyone was to stay put and lock the doors. Our little school went into lockdown mode – all the doors and windows were closed and locked, the kids weren’t allowed on the playground, and two dads were stationed by the entrance to let people in and keep them in.

This meant that all the parents who were at the school to drop their kids off had to stay there. They all wandered the halls, cell phones in hand, calling and texting work and family and whomever. I sent texts to B and to some friends and took a call from my dad, who was in South Carolina listening to our local NPR station and had heard the news. He had more information on what was happening than any of us in the school did.

Our school director, who has only been on the job for a month, did an incredible job handling a stressful situation. She kept the teachers and parents informed of the latest developments and worked to make sure the kids had no idea what was going on. I could tell some of the kids in the school were picking up on their parents’ stress, but everyone in our classroom was just fine.

Things did get slightly surreal at times. Like when we were singing the “Hokey Pokey” with the kids as the campus air raid sirens were sounding. The sirens went off every half our, each time followed by a booming announcement telling people to stay indoors. At one point I was upstairs in the church kitchen washing up the snack dishes and looked out the window to see helicopters hovering at roof-top height. It was all very unnerving, to say the least.

I was amazed, though, to see a parade of students walking and biking in to campus. Apparently they hadn’t gotten the word about the University’s being shut down, although given the number of e-mails, tweets, and Facebook updates that were flying through the interwebs, I’m not sure how that’s possible. And when I watched news coverage later in the day, I was stunned at the number of gawkers hanging out on the other side of the police tape watching the action. Did they think that being on the far side of the tape made them safe somehow?

A little after noon the All Clear was sounded, and everyone at the school breathed a huge sigh of relief. The director made the decision to shut the school down for the rest of day because UT was also closed.

As stressful as it was to be at the school, too close for comfort to the action, I am grateful I was there instead of at home and not able to get to my kids. The few parents who had dropped their kids off before the lockdown must have been just frantic. I’m not sure what I would have done had I been in their position – I think I might have disobeyed the lockdown and driven to school just to be there with them. But I’ll never know.

I spent the rest of the day pretty rattled, pondering the might-have-beens of the situation and feeling profoundly grateful that everyone except the gunman was safe and sound.

And I hope to never have to go through such a situation ever again.

And then the wheels came off

After last Saturday’s great 14 mile run, I was looking forward to an easy 10 this morning. I started off really well, too. I headed out at 5:30 to run the Windsor Loop, which is probably my favorite route. The moon was still up, providing plenty of light, and while it was humid, it wasn’t hot. I felt really strong through the whole run, even on the hills. Life was good.

But then I got back to the Trail, and things went downhill. I grabbed a drink from the car and this gooey energy gel – it’s time for me to start experimenting with eating on my longer runs – and waited for running friends to show up. My plan was to hop in with the group for part of whatever their run was. But no one showed up.

So I trudged off by myself, muttering about how tired I am of running by myself in the dark on the Trail, choosing not to remember that it’s my own damn fault I’m by myself because I opted not to join any of the training groups in town. I had decided to do at least three more miles before calling it a day.

But after half a mile, the wheels just came off, and I fell apart, physically and mentally. My stomach cramped up enough that I was doubled over on the side of the Trail. That’s when I decided to turn around and head for the car.

It really shouldn’t surprise me that the run was a disaster. I had a terrible migraine last night, one that involved wicked visual distortions and throwing up, which meant I didn’t eat any dinner to speak of. I also slept terribly. I had actually turned off my alarm, but I woke up at 5:00 anyway, so I headed out for the run.

I know I could have slogged along and finished out the distance, but it just didn’t seem worth it this morning. Some days, knowing when to stop is a victory. I’m just glad this didn’t happen with one of my “long” runs. Next Saturday I’m scheduled to do 16 miles, and I have to get the wheels back on by then.

Happy Birthday Knittergran, Part III

This is the silly version. The kids laughed as much watching it as they did making it. And they are begging to watch it over and over again.

Happy Birthday Knittergran, Part II

When Campbell realized that I was recording a video with Elizabeth, he wanted in on the action. So here's another goofy message for knittergran. And this time you can actually see me a little bit.

Happy Birthday Knitttergran

Today is knittergran's birthday. Since we can't be there to celebrate, I figured I'd film the kids now that I have this fluffy computer with a built-in video camera. So far, Elizabeth is the only one to cooperate. Please excuse my chin and focus instead on the cute little girl.

Nothing to see here

Move along, please.

I’m suffering from severe blogger’s block. In fact, I’m suffering from social media block all the way around. I don’t have anything to say on Facebook, other than trying to sell my toddler, and I don’t really care about Twitter these days. It seems to mostly be weird conversations between people, and when I read them I feel like I’m eavesdropping on the cool kids. I’d unfollow a bunch of people, but after finding out that you can actually see who unfollows you, I’m terrified to do it for fear of pissing off any of the cool kids.

So I think I’m going to lie low for a while. See you when I get over my funk or whatever it is.

Noticeably Stronger

Despite last week's cheerful post about my changed goals and expectations for the NYC Marathon, I have been a bit concerned about being able to even complete the distance. Two weeks ago, I did 12 miles and was pretty much reduced to a shuffle during the last mile; there was no way I could have run any further. Since then, I've worried that maybe the miles I logged on the treadmill all summer hadn't counted in some strange way.

I headed out at 5:30 this morning with the goal of running 14 miles, nervous about what would happen when I hit mile 12 - would I fall apart like two weeks ago?

I did hit the wall at mile 12, but I pushed through and was able to finish strong. I wasn't setting any land-speed records, but I wasn't shuffling either. I ran the last half mile with a friend and was able to chat with her as we went. Unlike two weeks ago, I could have run another mile without too much of a problem. But I stuck to my plan and stopped when I was supposed to.

It was the first time I've really noticed an increase in my fitness level. I have proof that my training is working. Yay!

1, 2, 3, FOUR

September 17, 2006

September 17, 2007

September 17, 2008

September 17, 2009

September 17, 2010

Happy Birthday, Dude.

Cleaning Out

Yesterday morning I watched two episodes of "Hoarders" and promptly went on a cleaning spree in my kids' rooms. I cleaned out and organized both closets, which are now things of beauty. Unfortunately, the closets won't look neat for long. But I'm enjoying it while I can.

Among the assorted Legos, Lincoln Logs, and Little People toys I found:

My copy of Brideshead Revisited

13 socks

Two shoes, not from the same pair

6 empty cereal boxes pilfered from the recycling bin for future "art" projects

Four American Girl Doll outfits

5 pairs of underpants

One torn Twister mat

Pieces to three different puzzles

One pair of LL Bean Moose slippers that Campbell now refuses to take off

One Percy

One Rhenaus

One Thomas

and

FIVE bags of trash.

Seriously - I took five bags of trash out of two closets and one toy box. I was ruthless in what I threw out - puzzles with missing pieces, games with missing boxes, Ella's collection of poker chips, precious artwork, wrapping paper, homework from last year, and lots and lots of wadded up paper.

It was such a cathartic exercise. I actually enjoyed sitting on the floor and sorting all the blocks, Legos, train tracks, Little People, and GeoTrax into their proper bins and then storing everything neatly on the shelves.

I even cleaned out enough stuff that I was able to move the basket of Elizabeth's toys from the living room to the toy box. B did a happy dance when he saw that the toy corner had been cleaned out.

When the big girls got home, I showed them the improved closets and pleaded with them to keep everything neat for at least a few days. Ella rolled her eyes and immediately began checking for her treasures. Lily shrieked with delight at all the "missing" dress-up clothes that I had located and returned to the dress-up basket.

Next I'll tackle the mess that is their desk. But I need to wait until after trash collection day - our garbage can and recycling bin are filled to the brim.

Flibbertygibbit

I just do not know what I am going to do with this girl. If she gets much flightier, she's likely to forget her own name.

I've joked for a while now that Lily lives in her own little world, and I often ask her what color the sky is where she is. She usually just laughs and continues with her twirling.

But her spacey-ness has reached new heights, or lows, as the case may be.

The other day I sent her out to the car with very specific instructions: "Lily, in the red car, in the front passenger seat, on the floor, is a box of Sprite. Please go get it. Remember - red car, front seat, floor, Sprite." Easy peasy.

Except she came in five minutes later with a big smile and an empty box of baby wipes and said, "This is what you wanted, right?" When I reminded her that I wanted Sprites, she giggled and said that wipes and Sprites kind of sounded alike.

I sent her back out, again saying, "Red car, front seat, floor, Sprite." When she hadn't returned after five minutes, I poked my head out and found her sitting in the front seat, pretending to drive, carrying on a conversation with imaginary passengers. I called her name, and she jumped a foot in the air out of surprise.

This kind of thing happens with her ALL the time. I'll send her back to take a shower, and she'll forget to wash her hair and body, which means she has to take a second shower. I'll hand her something to put away and find the object abandoned in the hallway. She'll tell me she can't find a crucial item, like her backpack, and I'll look up to see her standing right next to it, oblivious to its presence. She'll trip over her own shoes and claim she doesn't know where they are.

It's a good thing she's such a happy, twirly girl. Otherwise she might drive me insane.