Poor, poor mom

My mom loves to knit. As soon as Ella was born, my mom started the tradition of making Christmas sweaters for her. Last year she knit three sweaters, one for each kid. She goes to knitting nights at a local yarn shop, and she went to hear Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, the Yarn Harlot, speak. She's the one who turned me on to knitting socks, basically dragging me to the local yarn store to buy sock wool and needles. She gave me one of Pearl-McPhee's books to inspire me. Because of mom, I'm in the process of knitting my third pair of socks.

But now she can't knit. Last week her hand and wrist started to hurt while she was knitting. So she took a few days off and organized her stash and took pictures of her yarn and her projects and posted them all to Flikr. She posted a question about pain while knitting on a yahoo group she's a member of and got lots of responses telling her to rest for another week or so. After a week she gave up and went to the hand doctor. The diagnosis: arthritis. The prescription: six weeks of rest. If that doesn't work, she'll have a cortisone shot into the joint. And if that doesn't work, surgery.

She's devastated at the thought of not being able to knit for the next six weeks. Mom is sending me several Christmas presents she had in progress so that I can finish them for her. One of the projects is my own present from her. The other is for my sister, and since I know she doesn't read my blog I'm safe mentioning it.

So all you knitters out there who read the blog, please send my mom healing vibes. She needs the help!

Hi everybody!

I have a hidden widget on my blog tht counts the number of hits the page gets every day. Most days I get about 15 visitors, and I know who three of them are. But then I joined the National Blog Posting Month, and my blog got listed in something called a randomizer, and I got 80 hits that day. Eighty hits! I know that's small change compared to the Yarn Harlot and the Pioneer Woman, but it's more than I've ever gotten; more than the day I finally announced to family and friends that I was keeping a blog and they all checked it out once.

Some of the people who stopped by left nice comments, and I got to visit their blogs and read some fun stuff. So to all my readers, new and old, welcome. Stop by again soon.

My guilty pleasure

So I'm well educated, and I read a lot. I've never gotten in to watching the Bachelor or Survivor or Temptation Island or Joe Millionaire. But . . . I love The Real Housewives of Orange County. I can't help myself.

My friend Jen and I were discussing the show, and she hit on what I think is the reason I like the show. She said that even though these people are wealthy beyond measure, they have the same problems we have, but with better jewelry and bigger houses. They have problems with their kids and their husbands and their jobs. Or at least Vicki and Jeana have normal problems. Slade and Jo are just weird.

Last night the new, and relatively unexpected, season begain, and boy oh boy is it going to be good. There's a new housewife who has declared herself the "hottest housewife in the OC," and I think I take exception to that statement. George and Lauri should be entertaining as they plan their over-the-top wedding.

I'm setting up the DVR to record the shows since I never watch TV at night. It should be an intereting few months.

Marathon dreams

When I was in my early 20s and getting into running after successful knee surgery, I set myself the goal of running a marthon by the time I was 30. I ended up running two marathons and training for a third all before my 30th birthday. I didn't run the third because six days before the race, I found out I was pregnant with Ella. My doctor told me it would be ok if I ran the race easy since my body was in shape for marathoning, but I decided not to take the risk, much to the relief of my husband and our families.

And while I would never, ever trade Ella for getting to run a marathon, I still feel the need to do one more marathon. That last running season I ran better than I ever had in my life. I'd been training with a running group and a coach and putting up mile splits on the track that I had never dreamed I'd be able to run. I ran a half marathon the week before I found out I was pregnant and ran a 12-minute personal best even though I was using it as a training run. If I could have held that same pace in the marathon, I would have qualified for Boston with room to spare.

But it wasn't to be.

This Saturday, during our run, one of my friends asked if I ever planned to do another marathon, and I told her that I just didn't see it happening while the kids are still young. The training itself just takes so much time. Then there's the recovery from the long Saturday runs - I used to come home from those runs and sleep for two hours. I don't have the time to go on a four-hour run and then take a two-hour nap.

This weekend I watched the men's Olympic Marathon Trials and the NYC Marathon coverage, and I regained some of my running inspiration. My first memories of watching a running event are of the NYC Marathon. I specifically remember watching the year that Greta Waitz turned into Central Park, threw off her gloves and dropped the hammer on the second place runner, leaving her in the dust. I stood up and cheered. And then there was watching Joan Benoit Samuelson win the first-ever Women's Olympic Marathon, in LA, and grabbing the American flag and running around the track as the rest of the runners finished. This year's NYC finish in the women's race was pretty exciting too. After staying shoulder to shoulder through the whole race, Paula Radcliffe, who had a baby 8 months ago, outkicked Geta Wami in the last 200 yards for a blistering finish.

So here's my new goal - I want to run the NYC Marathon by the time I'm 45. I'd go for 40, but that's only 2 1/2 years away, and I don't think it's possible, so I'm spotting myself a few extra years to get it done. It has to be the NYC Marathon. I love New York City, and if I'm going to travel to run a race, that's where it's going to be. Chicago and Boston just don't hold the same allure for me.

So there it is, I've said it publicly - the New York City Marathon by 2015. I'd better get running.

Third post of the day

I've signed up for something called National Blog Posting Month. Basically, I've agreed to post an entry every day for the month of November. This really shouldn't be a problem for me considering that most days I stop myself from posting more than one entry because I don't want to bother people. That's right, I don't want to bug people who have to chose to visit my blog to read it. It's not like I'm sending them four million e-mails, which I do tend to do because I hate talking on the phone, but then I worry that I've sent too many e-mails and bugged my friends that way. The worry gnomes in my head make a lot of noise some days.

Anyway, I signed up for this challenge even though I didn't post anything yesterday. I figured that my two, now three, posts today made up the gap.

NaBloPoMo, here I come.

Trampoline video

OK, I can't get the video to import to the blog, so here's a link. Make sure you have the volume turned up.

Poor Lily

Lily just doesn't get it sometimes. Saturday we put Campbell on the trampoline for the first time. The girls and I sat around the edges and kept Campbell from walking off the side. He ran from me to Ella and back again over and over, laughing and screeching every time he plopped down on his bottom. I have video of him doing it with B and the girls, and if I can figure out how to load it I will.

Anyway, when I was on the trampoline with them, Lily got very upset because Campbell was only running to me and to Ella. Lily desperately wanted him to run to her. So instead of just sitting back and waiting for him to come to her, Lily would grab at him and tackle him. Of course, Campbell would protest, pushing her away and crying, which hurt her feelings more.

When I got Campbell off the trampoline, and while Ella was having her turn bouncing, I tried to explain to Lily that perhaps Campbell doesn't run up and hug her as often as he does Ella because every time he does, she flattens him with a tackle. Lily just loves, loves, loves Campbell, and that's the problem - she is very aggressive in her affections. She just can't leave him alone. If he walks too close to Lily, she grabs him. She picks him up and totes him around, even though he inevitably screams and yells and goes limp.

And it's just heartbreaking to see. She will come to me in tears saying, "I want to hold Campbell, but he won't let me." Or, "I want to carry Campbell, but he keeps walking away." B and I have explained to her so many times that Campbell isn't a baby anymore and that he has his own little mind now and knows what he likes and doesn't like, but it just doesn't work. She insists on lugging him around or tackling him to give Campbell hugs. As a result, he tends to run the other way when she comes near him.

Anyone have any suggestions? Or should we just ride this out and hope that Lily eventually figures out what she needs to do?

A great way to start the day

Earlier this summer I made a not-so-successful attempt to run one of my favorite routes - the Windsor loop. I had set out a goal of being able to run the route comfortably by the end of the summer, but I wasn't able to manage that. Plantar fasciitis and illness and bad summer running in general did me in. Every year I forget that I just don't run well in the summer, and it was even worse this year.

But this morning was so different. The weather was clear and cool - perfect for running. I met up with four of the running chicks and off we went. I'm still not used to not being able to stop at the water fountain at the boat landing, but I toughed it out and kept going into the hills. I fell way behind the group on the first big hill, but I managed to keep running. The chicks were waiting at the top of the hill, and we headed on to Windsor with its rolling hills. Again, I fell behind, but not as far as before. I caught back up at the gas station, our first water stop.

I always view the turn onto Exposition as the home stretch - it's about a mile long, with rolling hills, most of them downhill. We stopped at a Gazelle's water stop and then made the turn back on to Lake Austin, headed to the start. I was able to hang with the group the whole way back to the finish, even though everyone picked up the pace on LAB.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I felt good after the run - like I had really accomplished something. The route is only five miles, a far cry from my days of running 10+ on Saturdays on a regular basis, but it was still a victory for me. I've had so many false starts with my post-Campbell running comeback. This run felt like this comeback just might be The One.

I may just have to buy new running shoes to celebrate.

Laughing in his sleep

The last thing I do every night before I go to bed is check on the kids in their beds. Ella is always sprawled across hers, all arms and legs. One arm or one leg is usually dangling over the rail of her bunk. Lily is a bundle in her bed. Often all I see is her hair poking out from under her comforter. Both have so many stuffed animals and dolls in their beds that it's hard to believe there is room for them.

I never know what I'll find when I check on Campbell. Sometimes he's rolled into a ball, with his butt in the air; sometimes he's stretched out, arm spread across the crib. Last night when I went in, he sat up in his crib without waking up. I patted his back and tipped him over on to his side, covering him up with his blanket. He promptly rolled onto his back and started chuckling. I draped myself over the side of the crib and listened to him, my heart breaking with love. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, Campbell opened his eyes and held out his arms to me, saying "mummumumum." I nearly swooned with joy. Then I tip-toed out, afraid he wouldn't go back to sleep, but he did.

Moments like those, watching my children sleep, hearing them laughing in their sleep, make all the nonsense and trouble and stress worth it. Those are the moments I need to remember forever.

Vampire tales

Last week I wrote about Ella's fear of vampires, and I'd love to report that things have gotten better, but they haven't. B and I have both tried to calm her down when she's been sitting in bed sobbing, but nothing we've said has helped.

One night I gave her my old teddy bear, which also used to be my mother's, and told her it was a magic bear to protect her. She added him to the collection of animals crowding her bed, but I don't think she bought my line. In the end, she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Tuesday night Ella had another freak out. She was crying great big gasping sobs, and I just didn't know what to say to make things better. I went back to my office and pondered solutions. Then I had a brain storm. I ransacked the refrigerator, but I couldn't find any garlic, so I settled on a jar of garlic powder.

I took it in to Ella and explained that in movies, because vampires aren't real, but in movies they believe that vampires don't like the smell of garlic. I told her that I didn't have a clove of garlic, but that the garlic powder smelled just the same. She clutched the jar to her chest and put her head down. I went back in later to discover that she had spread the garlic powder all over her comforter, which made the room reek to high heaven. But at least she went to sleep without any more sobbing.

So yesterday at the grocery store I picked up some fresh garlic for her. She now has a head of garlic on the corner of her bed post. Ella went to sleep without incident, but that could have been because she was wiped out from the excitement of Halloween.

In any event, I figure that the smell of garlic in the girls' room is a small price to pay for Ella's peace of mind.