Tuesday in Pictures

Today was a home day. It was one of those slow paced recovery mode days that we all needed so desperately. Adara and Isaac both had three rounds of vaccinations at yesterday's well-child check up and boy were they hurting today. Poor babies were both up whining and writhing in pain several times last night, in very untypical fashion for these tough kids. When Adara finally rolled out of bed after 8:00am and announced that she was really tired and wanted to stay home today, we scratched out all mental to-do adventure lists (which included exciting possibilities of visiting the LA Zoo's brand new Rainforest Exhibit, a Santa Monica beach trip, strawberry picking at the farm or downtown LA water fountain fun). Lists destroyed, below is a snapshot of our Tuesday.

1. Coffee and bagels on the couch with Cesia. Little brother was up and crying before 5am, refused the finest rocking motions and best attempts at cuddling him back to dreamland. After a 2-hr stint which included eating breakfast with his eyes closed (Seriously, the kid ate every blackberry and an entire bowl of oatmeal with his eyes shut), he was back in bed at 7am when child #2 came tip-toeing down the stairs. Cesia and I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of pink bagels with cream cheese and coffee. Today was a coffee day, indeed.

My two favorite C's this morning: Cesia and Coffee.

Sharing pink bagels on the couch.

2. A late-morning trail run with a brief respite to enjoy the views. In ultra-recovery mode, I ran an easy 1.5 miles up to the climbing trees (or as easy as possible while still pushing the triple up to Mulholland) and let the kids free. They typically beg to get out and I typically bribe or distract them with games and snacks and other stroller running mama tricks to keep them happy while getting in my miles. Today I didn't feel the need to push. I stopped at the trees and unbuckled their seat belts. But something strange happened, they didn't jump out. They didn't even move. It was 10am and they were pooped. Clearly yesterday's shots left these active kiddos drained. I slowly peeled their bodies from the stroller and held hands as we leisurely walked up the single track to admire this blessed view and pick some yellow wildflowers that had bloomed so gorgeously since our last trip up the road.

A boy and his flower.

My favorite from today.

So blessed with this view.

My little wildflower.

About as far as their tired bodies could hike this morning. And that's okay.

3. Afternoon baths. We never do this. I usually keep a strict bedtime routine of bath time, books, goodnight kisses and off to dream. Last night we skipped baths. It was a busy Monday and I didn't want to repeat a disastrous night like the one I wrote of in my previous post, so we skipped baths all together and hopped right into bed. This morning some feet were stinky (Adara refuses to wear socks, always has and the heat is kicking up), bodies were sticky and the kids were all dusty from a windy trail run with sand blowing at us in all directions, so we took baths. Long afternoon bubble baths with nothing up next on the agenda. How luxurious, and how nice to be clean so early in the day. : ) Mama even snuck in a 2-minute shower while the kids dried off!

Three in the tub. Where's Cesia?

4. Books and crayons in the yard mid-afternoon. Isaac was down for nap #2 by 2:00, so we retreated to the yard in PJ's with piles of books to be read. 

Adara reading to Cesia.

Story time.

Coloring break.

 5. With early mornings come early bedtimes. All three kids were snug in their beds by 6:30pm. A few water breaks for Cesia, one PJ change for Adara (she does sleep in the top bunk, heat rises and it is currently 87 degrees outside) and I have not heard a peep since 7:00. Alan is traveling and while I miss out on spousal time (and support!), I gain plenty of that coveted ME time. Tonight I got plenty of that as I spent the better part of three hours in the kitchen chopping, dicing, sautéing, simmering, roasting and creating mouth-watering veggie dishes with the contents of this week's organic produce box. Tomorrow, we shall eat.

Steamed lemony beet salad, White Miso Butter Turnips (hands-down the best turnip recipe I have ever tried - from Julie Morris' Superfoods), Quinoa veggie cakes-turned casserole with slivered chard and chopped cilantro. 

That was our day. A good day, a long day. Tonight I will fall asleep knowing that all three kids were made to feel loved, appreciated and held. It was just the type of day we needed: low on adventure and activity, high on love and togetherness. Goodnight!

Chicago Marathon

I have missed writing. In my fervent attempt to simplify life and maximize time with my three kids, I have had to cut back on writing. This doesn't mean it's easy. But what is easy? I love to write and feel an urge to reflect and share. I write with the hope that others can relate, sigh a breath of relief and realize that they are not in this alone and that, yes, life is hard but wonderful.

I was reminded in the past couple of weeks how lonely this job can be. Motherhood, though challenging beyond belief, can just be plain mind-numbing. I am a bit of a loner, always have been, but on those solitary days left alone with three children and a traveling over-worked husband, even I need someone with whom to talk. Someone other than a babbling baby or impatient, crabby, 3 year old. Again, thank you for all those who have listened or read my words. For all those who have been there for me, whether I know you or not.

April was work. And I'll be honest, it felt like work. Long days with clingy kids, overtired but energized babies who just needed more, followed by interrupted nights full of bad dreams and multiple wakings by multiple kids. Alan was out of commission as husband and father for much of April as he was finishing up a multi-million dollar government grant proposal. I love that he is a hard-worker, that is what attracted me to him in the first place. I can not forget that. I am not resentful and I am not mad, but I am just.. tired. The less he is around, the more the kids cling to me, the more they need me. And of course, the more I need me. So in April, we stumbled through, in fact I ran higher mileage than usual. I ran to get through the long tedious days with demanding kids. At least if I'm running, I know I'm still alive. I'm still awake and spending quality time with my kids singing songs (when not choking for air on the uphills) and teaching them to read (street signs!) and do math (If we already did 4 repeats and need to do 8, how many do we have left?) while looking for moments of calm in this busy life.

And so mid-April, mid-craziness, I registered for the 2014 Bank of America Chicago Marathon. On Sunday, October 12th, I will run my very first marathon. I am running because I need to. My big sister and I entered the lottery this year and figured we would play our odds and decide from there. We both got in! We chatted on the phone that Monday evening and said we'd give it a few days to decide. I was torn. The trail runner in me has been yearning to run Catalina this November. The family-minded part of me knew that Chicago made sense. For it was the city I was born and raised in, where my parents and entire extended family still resided, it it a flat, fast course and one in which I could possibly qualify for Boston. The nervous and cautious part of me wondered whether I could do it. Can my body really handle this? Am I ready? Can I run a fast time - time I will be happy with after months of dedicated training?? Many doubts and thoughts filled my mind that afternoon.

Then the clock struck 6(pm). The kids were crabby. No, crabby is putting it lightly, they were out of their minds. We had spent the day at the beach, Cesia missed her nap, Isaac skipped his afternoon rest, Adara had been in the sun for way too many hours and I was cooked. Daddy was en route to Virginia and I just had to get through the next hour and all three would be peacefully asleep. It didn't happen.

By 6:01, all three decided to throw the performances (read: tantrums) of their lives. Isaac arched his back and fought bath time with all his might, screaming and climbing out of the tub like a lab rat scrambling from a pool of water. His sandy, sunscreen soaked body desperately needed a cleaning and so I fought back. Cesia peed on the ground (for the third time that day, which I have come to realize she does every time her daddy goes away). Like a needy puppy, she demands that extra attention by peeing on the ground. Now Isaac is out of the tub and clean, lying naked on the carpet screaming while I try to wipe up a puddle of pee before he goes splashing around in it and needs a second bath. I wipe the floor with the nearest towel in sight, which happens to be Adara's Dora towel which she suddenly needs and now in turn, she starts screaming. I toss Cesia in the tub, wipe her up even quicker than I did the dirty floor and pull her still crying body from the tub and wrap her up on my bed. Within seconds she is sprinting down the hall, wet and slipping, shouting muddled words as she searches for princess PJ's that are surely buried deep in the dirty laundry basket. Of course they are in the dirty laundry basket, seeing as our washing machine has now been broken for two weeks and our new one has yet to arrive. Miraculously, she decides on a pair, gets herself dressed and is quiet. She runs in the bathroom to see Adara still in the tub. Adara fills a toy dish with water and splashes it purposefully and very directly onto Cesia. Now Cesia's carefully-chosen PJ's are soaked and she has just been pushed irreconcilably over the edge. There is no coming back from this final meltdown, I know. I shout something at Adara, send Cesia to find new PJ's and grab Isaac off the ground to get dressed and in bed. All three kids are back at it and at a new level I had not yet seen. They are feeding off each other and the clock hasn't even reached 6:30. I stomp into Isaac's room,  now joining the tantrums, grab the curtains to pull shut and see my elderly 80-something year old neighbor lying on the ground outside her front door. That is when I lost it all.

Broken down, exhausted and lost, I call up the most amazing and selfless couple I know. Hysterical, I try to get out the words but they don't need to hear them. Within minutes they are at my front door, picking up my hurt and confused neighbor, calming me and just taking care of everything.

An hour later, Adara, Cesia and Isaac are finally done screaming and torturing me in slave-like fashion. All three are peacefully asleep. I click on the monitor to see my angelic son cuddled up snug with his powder blue blankie. You're innocent when you dream. I still haven't showered, my body is covered in sand and sunscreen, red in places where my hands couldn't reach and physically exhausted from the last 24 hours (or 4-and-a-half years!) of motherhood.

What do I do? I sit down on the couch and register for the 2014 Chicago Marathon. Why? Because more than any other time in my life, I need this. I will run the marathon for me. I will train for myself and with my kids and will find joy through every workout and every long run, because that is what running is for me: joy.

Earth Day Hike. 2014.

So much joy found here.

Little boy learning to hike.

Long run with three sleeping kids.

Running Mama's view.

Simplifying this life

Life has been crazy lately. Hectic, rushed, jam-packed full of activities and jobs and work and volunteering and broken appliances and messes and the list goes on. Through it all I have managed to run, because I need to run. I may not write, I may not clean the house, I may not make it to the grocery store, and I may run out of toilet paper again this afternoon because we still have not made it to the store. But I run.

Yesterday afternoon I loaded all three kids into the triple stroller, braved the 90+ degree heatwave we are sweating through in Sunny Southern California (though I'm not complaining - it really is quite beautiful and I'd take it over snow nearly any day) and had yet another transformative mind-changing adventure with the kid. In those 90 minutes and between games of I-Spy and Guess that Fruit, I came to the clear realization that I need to simplify. Sometimes amidst all the stress, challenges and frustrations, the answer really is as simple as that: simplify.

Like every other good mother, I want to the best for my children. I strive to give them the most memorable amazing experiences and a childhood they will look back on with wonder and gratitude. A childhood they strive to mimic for their own children. My mother gave us that. She raised us through heartache and suffering, with my father losing his sight just months before she would give birth to her first child (my older sister) and no money to put food on the table. My parents had nothing, yet they had everything. We were never made to feel less, we were hugged and loved and taken on adventures: to the grocery store, to the local catholic church, to the neighborhood ghetto playground where we had our first home. My dad was held up, he was robbed, a blind man taking public transportation through dangerous Chicago streets. My mom was harassed, on a daily basis I am sure, while out alone on these same dirty streets with her 19 month old and newborn daughter (myself). My parents had stresses. They had rough months and long years. Growing up in a childhood like that, I am blessed to possess the one character trait I long to pass on to my own three children: Tenacity.

We work hard. We don't give up when the going gets tough, because the going is always going to be tough. There is always going to be something that stresses you out, something that pushes your buttons  or overwhelms you, but what good do we get in stopping? What good comes out of giving up the fight? Many thought my mom was crazy for staying with a newlywed blind husband. "You have only been married less than a year, you can start a whole new life for yourself." She never chose the easy way out. She was tenacious. And my father, who was forced to re-learn nearly everything, to read, to write, to walk and get around with a cane, do you think he took the easy way out? He used that opportunity to go back to school and not just anywhere, but to the University of Chicago, and earn a degree in Infant Mental Health and become a licensed psychotherapist.

And so people call me crazy when they see me pushing 150+ lbs up steep mountain trails and narrow neighborhood streets. I don't see that as crazy. I see that as another word: Tenacious. If I had let the week's stresses get to me and gave in, lying on the couch eating chocolates with three whiny kids at my feet, I would be crazy. More than that, I would have missed out on the clarity that was brought to me through yesterday's run. In those 90 minutes of thought, I decided to send Adara to our local public school, because it is good enough and she will thrive being part of her own community and it will simplify our lives. I decided to stay on the preschool board for next year but only with the promise to myself and my good friend/Chair that we will simplify. We will choose a few primary goals for the year and hold ourselves to them, rather than trying to tackle everything and being left breathless and worse, defeated. I decided to spend more time playing with my kids, taking pictures, because I love taking pictures and re-living the stories they contain. I will spend more time at the ocean because the ocean calms me and is good for the soul. I will choose my words more carefully and practice mindful awareness because our thoughts are our actions, and our words are the way in which we are perceived in this world, like it or not. I will choose my words more carefully and speak with kindness. I will read a book when I feel like it and skip the dishes at night. I will enjoy this life because man it flies right by. I will hug my children more and remind them they are loved and more important than getting "just this one email sent out." And finally I will be easier on myself and accept that life can be simple and still wonderful and that I am no less of a mom for sending my kid to the local public school. Thanks Mom and Dad, for keeping life simple and teaching me the important stuff. My favorite childhood memories were those spent at the dirty little park and the neighborhood grocery store with my mom. We were together and loved and that was all that mattered.. and still does.

Post-dinner bike rides and walking practice.

Sharing ice cream in the backyard.

Adara's beautiful "LOVE" poster she made me on Tuesday.

Backyard pool time.

Sunset run with the girls.