Earlier in December we celebrated the 5th anniversary of living in our house. When we moved in, Audrey was three and Luke was 9 months. That seems like a lifetime ago.
I started to write a list of all of the projects we've done since we signed the closing papers, but it got so overwhelming that I stopped. The short version is that we've painted nearly every room; tiled, carpeted, or refinished nearly every floor; and changed nearly every light fixture and piece of door hardware. We extended our deck, have done several huge landscape overhauls, had the exterior painted, and had a new roof and two new HVAC units installed. We've decorated and and redecorated several rooms in big and small ways and organized and reorganized every single drawer, closet, and cabinet multiple times. And of course there is our most recent and biggest renovation of moving the laundry room upstairs and creating a mudroom in its former space.
All of this has most certainly made the house feel more like our own. You can't walk into a room without seeing evidence of our family and our style. We have poured our blood, sweat, and tears into every corner of this house...literally, in many instances.
But here is something that dawned on me recently: If we lost every bit of it tomorrow, we'd be just fine. We'd be devastated, of course, and heartbroken. But we'd be okay. Because more than the home we've created for ourselves over the past five years, we have developed a community here that is indestructible.
Last weekend we drove over to Cobb County to celebrate Christmas at David's aunt and uncle's house. For years whenever we crossed into the county line, it felt like coming home. I was born in Smyrna, moved to Powder Springs/Kennesaw area in second grade, moved downtown Atlanta for my Freshmen year of college, and then moved among various apartments in Smyrna until David and I got married and settled in Gwinnett during my senior year of college. Cobb held all of my major life moments and memories. I would drive onto the 75 North exit off of 285 and immediately search the skies for the familiar and comforting signs of the C-130s flying training loops out of Dobbins Air Reserve Base.
I'm not sure when it first happened, but that feeling hasn't hit me in awhile. Cobb County will always have a special place in my history and in my heart, but it isn't home to me anymore. My home is now Gwinnett.
It took a very, very long time for that to hold true...thirteen years in fact. When I think of why, it all points to establishing community and traditions here. It's moments that have taken place inside the walls of our house of course, but it's also all the big and small ones that have taken place outside of them too. It's the local park where we go see fireworks with friends on the 4th of July. It's running into people you know at the grocery store (always without make-up on, of course). It's chatting with the owner at a local deli about his family. It's dropping off borrowed items in a neighbor's mailbox. It's looking forward to seeing the crazy Christmas decorations at that one house on the carpool route. It's memories from annual festivals and celebration desserts at the usual spot and knowing the best hill to catch a beautiful sunset.
When I go out for my early morning run around these oh-so-hilly neighborhood streets, I think about the families inside. Even though we have a huge neighborhood, between the kids' school and the Timber Trek, I know quite a few of them now. Thoughts about them drift through my mind as I plod past their driveway: "I bet their daughter is home from college this week." "I wonder how her mom is doing." "I need to text her about that recipe she asked for." "I wonder how her son did in his tennis match."
If anything ever happened to the house we've made here, the community would join in with our families and carry us through. I know because I've watch them - us - do it for so many others over the years.
I adore our house and all the work we've done to it to make it ours. But what I really love is how much the people around it have come to mean to me. There is no where else I'd rather be.
School Days Update, Part II - My Experience
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
In case you missed it, I wrote a post about two weeks ago with a quick update on the kids' first few months of school. (Scroll down to read or click here.) I knew my own update and experiences would take a little longer to process.
In short, it's been crazy. Yes, it's been emotional and sadly quiet and strange (for 8 years my whole world centered around getting back home around 1pm or naps and rest), but mostly, it's just been too insanely busy to contemplate it. I went back and read over my "Now What?" post and laughed and laughed and laughed. Then I cried a little. And then I laughed some more.
Oh my WORD, I have not had ANY trouble at all figuring out what to do with my time. To refresh your memory, I signed on to be both kids' room mom and co-chair of the Community Outreach Committee. I thought, "I've always been room mom for both. How hard could it be?" In fact, I may have even entertained the idea that it would be a little easier because there aren't as many cutsie parties and celebrations like there are in preschool. Well, stupidly, I did not consider the fact that everything comes due at the exact same time.
Duh.
The community outreach committee workload hasn't been heavy, but it hasn't been nonexistent either. And then there was a consignment sale, a Baby Sprinkle for friends, the massive undertaking of the Timber Trek, a family baby shower, David's chaotic travel schedule, and our laundry room renovation project that, as projects like that always do, turned into a much bigger thing than we thought it would. There is our small group, which when paired with morning church, means most of our Sundays are full. And then there's just everyday LIFE with kids. Family birthdays, car repairs, illness, appointments. In the span of eight days, we had six doctor/dentist check-ups. SIX. (Idiotic planning on my part, but I was trying to get it over with before the holidays.)
And even handling all of that wouldn't have been unfeasible. It would've been a lot, yes, but it wouldn't have awful. My background is management and event planning. I got this! No sweat! (Am I sweating? Why am I sweating?!)
I think what pushed it over the edge into too much is all of the "extras" that came my way unexpectedly. Within the first few weeks of school, one of my teachers had a birthday and the other was nominated for Teacher of the Year. Both of things deserved celebration of course, but that required extra time and coordination. I spent hours creating class directories for both classes only to have the files lost in a computer glitch and then had to redo them. There have been storybook pumpkins to decorate and a silent auction raffle basket to assemble and special snacks and projects in both kids' classes and school-wide. And of course let's not forget the hurricane (?!) and subsequent days off of school. The expected stuff plus all of the unexpected stuff resulted in way too many days that started at 5 or 5:30am and went nonstop until 9:30pm. I'm talking hustling hard for 15-16 hours a day.
Of course I realize that there are women holding down full-time jobs that, for them, this is every single day. It's their whole life, always, without reprieve. I don't know what to say about that except that I don't want that to be my life. I don't think it's healthy for me or my family. I like keeping busy, yes, but I also like margin. I like my house to be organized, I like being able to plan ahead for holidays and events, I like to work out (okay, I don't always like it, but it's important to me), and I like the availability to be able to do a small act of service for someone or take a meal to a family without having to put it on my calendar for two months from now.
The older I get the more I realize it's okay if those characteristics and preferences are true of me. I'm trying to stop apologizing or justifying it to people who might think it's over the top. Of course I have to learn to let stuff go and I can't expect everyone else to operate like I do, but if that's what works best for me, I only have a few options: change, find a way to make it keep working, or some combination of the two.
But I have failed doing that well for myself these last few months. I think in part because I completely overestimated how much time I would have with both of them in school. I didn't allow each role I took on to have margin within itself for the extra requirements that would come. The other reason that is a little harder for me to confess is that I think I wanted to ensure my decision to not go back to work was justified. That I was still "valuable" even if I didn't contribute to the economy or my family's income. (And let me say, this is in NO WAY coming from David or anyone else...this is the innate "disease to achieve" that's wired into my DNA.)
So that's the problem. But what's the answer? I have read multiple books on slowing down, being present over perfect, saying no to say yes, etc. and I get all of that. I know I cannot take on anything else right now (unless I release something first) and I don't plan on it.
But what about the things I've already said yes to? I have signed on to fulfill these rolls for this school year and I would sooner die than back out on a commitment. But I may die if I have to live at this pace until the end of May. And what if...gasp...I don't want to give up any of these roles and I'm crazy enough to sign on for them again?! How can I ensure I don't find myself in the same overwhelmed state next year?
Here's some things I've come up with that I think will help:
1. Negotiate. When I was talking through all of this with a friend recently, she pointed out something I'd never considered. She told me I was very accommodating to teachers and that I always jump in and do everything they ask of me without question. "You don't have to say no, but it's okay for it to be a dialogue, you know." IT IS? So when a teacher asked me to take a picture with a different background for every month for every student in the class (meaning the result would be handing over 228 different and edited pictures, therefore taking and culling through approximately 500 pictures) I could have said, "what if I do half and someone else takes the other half?" MIND BLOWN. Seriously.
2. Delegate. David sometimes tells me I need to delegate more or recruit other volunteers, which honestly drives me nuts. Sorry honey, but I don't have a team of people that work for me like you do. (Or rather I do, but one of them is five and one is eight so their skills are limited.)
Everyone I know is equally busy, if not busier, I am. I've never met a good volunteer that didn't have her hands in five other projects. BUT, I can ask for help in other areas so that I'm freed up to do the things that only I can do. If that means I lean on the grandparents a little more or outsource dinner to Chick-fil-A or splurge on a cleaning lady every once in a while, then so be it. I cannot delegate 80% of my tasks (I've yet to find a company where you can hire volunteers to fill your volunteer jobs), which means I have to be ruthless about the 20% that I can delegate.
3. Build in space for personal projects...or just for rest. I had a few projects I wanted to get caught up on that haven't happened yet. They don't matter to anyone else but me, which is probably why they keep getting deferred. I'm slowly realizing that if I don't actually schedule time for them (and fiercely protect that time), the space will get filled with other things.
Similarly, if I don't actually write in time to chill out with some fulfilling rest/treats, it won't happen. And I mean things like dates with David, breakfast with a friend, a pedicure, reading a good book...NOT Netflix or Facebook. (And P.S. Self, cleaning the house or making the meal plan for the week isn't rest just because you do it in your pajamas. That's fake rest.)
4. Reframe my thinking. I do not want to be the grumbling, griping volunteer that views all of her roles as burdens. I do not want my kids to think I resent their school or teachers... or worse, that I resent them. If I'm going to continue wearing all of these hats, I need to do it in a way that honors God, who is my ultimate Boss. I need to remember that these are things I chose because they matter a great deal to me. I need to think about them not in terms of I "HAVE" to, but rather I "GET" to.
I GET to have a hands-on role in my kids' education. I GET to spend time with them in their classrooms. I GET to support their teachers and interact with their friends. I GET to serve the school and the community. I'm not going to be perfect at this (it's so much easier and more fun to bellyache!), but I'm going to try to do better.
So those are some of my suggestions on coping. Let me know if you have any to add. We'll see how it goes. In the meantime, if you see me in the grocery store at 9pm muttering to myself about how in the world they can make milk expiration dates so far out before I realize that date is actually a week away (true story...), you have my permission to slap me across the face, lead me to the chocolate aisle to pick out something nice, and then send me home.
In short, it's been crazy. Yes, it's been emotional and sadly quiet and strange (for 8 years my whole world centered around getting back home around 1pm or naps and rest), but mostly, it's just been too insanely busy to contemplate it. I went back and read over my "Now What?" post and laughed and laughed and laughed. Then I cried a little. And then I laughed some more.
Oh my WORD, I have not had ANY trouble at all figuring out what to do with my time. To refresh your memory, I signed on to be both kids' room mom and co-chair of the Community Outreach Committee. I thought, "I've always been room mom for both. How hard could it be?" In fact, I may have even entertained the idea that it would be a little easier because there aren't as many cutsie parties and celebrations like there are in preschool. Well, stupidly, I did not consider the fact that everything comes due at the exact same time.
Duh.
The community outreach committee workload hasn't been heavy, but it hasn't been nonexistent either. And then there was a consignment sale, a Baby Sprinkle for friends, the massive undertaking of the Timber Trek, a family baby shower, David's chaotic travel schedule, and our laundry room renovation project that, as projects like that always do, turned into a much bigger thing than we thought it would. There is our small group, which when paired with morning church, means most of our Sundays are full. And then there's just everyday LIFE with kids. Family birthdays, car repairs, illness, appointments. In the span of eight days, we had six doctor/dentist check-ups. SIX. (Idiotic planning on my part, but I was trying to get it over with before the holidays.)
And even handling all of that wouldn't have been unfeasible. It would've been a lot, yes, but it wouldn't have awful. My background is management and event planning. I got this! No sweat! (Am I sweating? Why am I sweating?!)
I think what pushed it over the edge into too much is all of the "extras" that came my way unexpectedly. Within the first few weeks of school, one of my teachers had a birthday and the other was nominated for Teacher of the Year. Both of things deserved celebration of course, but that required extra time and coordination. I spent hours creating class directories for both classes only to have the files lost in a computer glitch and then had to redo them. There have been storybook pumpkins to decorate and a silent auction raffle basket to assemble and special snacks and projects in both kids' classes and school-wide. And of course let's not forget the hurricane (?!) and subsequent days off of school. The expected stuff plus all of the unexpected stuff resulted in way too many days that started at 5 or 5:30am and went nonstop until 9:30pm. I'm talking hustling hard for 15-16 hours a day.
Of course I realize that there are women holding down full-time jobs that, for them, this is every single day. It's their whole life, always, without reprieve. I don't know what to say about that except that I don't want that to be my life. I don't think it's healthy for me or my family. I like keeping busy, yes, but I also like margin. I like my house to be organized, I like being able to plan ahead for holidays and events, I like to work out (okay, I don't always like it, but it's important to me), and I like the availability to be able to do a small act of service for someone or take a meal to a family without having to put it on my calendar for two months from now.
I have always done a pretty good job of choosing my "best yes" and saying no loudly and proudly if something comes across my plate that doesn't fit in. It's why I made the tough decision to quit my part time job after a year. It's why I consistently turn down a lot of invitations to acquaintance's parties and neighborhood events, even if they would be fun. I unapologetically protect my family's calendar and only have the kids in one low-key activity at a time.
But I have failed doing that well for myself these last few months. I think in part because I completely overestimated how much time I would have with both of them in school. I didn't allow each role I took on to have margin within itself for the extra requirements that would come. The other reason that is a little harder for me to confess is that I think I wanted to ensure my decision to not go back to work was justified. That I was still "valuable" even if I didn't contribute to the economy or my family's income. (And let me say, this is in NO WAY coming from David or anyone else...this is the innate "disease to achieve" that's wired into my DNA.)
So that's the problem. But what's the answer? I have read multiple books on slowing down, being present over perfect, saying no to say yes, etc. and I get all of that. I know I cannot take on anything else right now (unless I release something first) and I don't plan on it.
But what about the things I've already said yes to? I have signed on to fulfill these rolls for this school year and I would sooner die than back out on a commitment. But I may die if I have to live at this pace until the end of May. And what if...gasp...I don't want to give up any of these roles and I'm crazy enough to sign on for them again?! How can I ensure I don't find myself in the same overwhelmed state next year?
Here's some things I've come up with that I think will help:
1. Negotiate. When I was talking through all of this with a friend recently, she pointed out something I'd never considered. She told me I was very accommodating to teachers and that I always jump in and do everything they ask of me without question. "You don't have to say no, but it's okay for it to be a dialogue, you know." IT IS? So when a teacher asked me to take a picture with a different background for every month for every student in the class (meaning the result would be handing over 228 different and edited pictures, therefore taking and culling through approximately 500 pictures) I could have said, "what if I do half and someone else takes the other half?" MIND BLOWN. Seriously.
2. Delegate. David sometimes tells me I need to delegate more or recruit other volunteers, which honestly drives me nuts. Sorry honey, but I don't have a team of people that work for me like you do. (Or rather I do, but one of them is five and one is eight so their skills are limited.)
Everyone I know is equally busy, if not busier, I am. I've never met a good volunteer that didn't have her hands in five other projects. BUT, I can ask for help in other areas so that I'm freed up to do the things that only I can do. If that means I lean on the grandparents a little more or outsource dinner to Chick-fil-A or splurge on a cleaning lady every once in a while, then so be it. I cannot delegate 80% of my tasks (I've yet to find a company where you can hire volunteers to fill your volunteer jobs), which means I have to be ruthless about the 20% that I can delegate.
3. Build in space for personal projects...or just for rest. I had a few projects I wanted to get caught up on that haven't happened yet. They don't matter to anyone else but me, which is probably why they keep getting deferred. I'm slowly realizing that if I don't actually schedule time for them (and fiercely protect that time), the space will get filled with other things.
Similarly, if I don't actually write in time to chill out with some fulfilling rest/treats, it won't happen. And I mean things like dates with David, breakfast with a friend, a pedicure, reading a good book...NOT Netflix or Facebook. (And P.S. Self, cleaning the house or making the meal plan for the week isn't rest just because you do it in your pajamas. That's fake rest.)
4. Reframe my thinking. I do not want to be the grumbling, griping volunteer that views all of her roles as burdens. I do not want my kids to think I resent their school or teachers... or worse, that I resent them. If I'm going to continue wearing all of these hats, I need to do it in a way that honors God, who is my ultimate Boss. I need to remember that these are things I chose because they matter a great deal to me. I need to think about them not in terms of I "HAVE" to, but rather I "GET" to.
I GET to have a hands-on role in my kids' education. I GET to spend time with them in their classrooms. I GET to support their teachers and interact with their friends. I GET to serve the school and the community. I'm not going to be perfect at this (it's so much easier and more fun to bellyache!), but I'm going to try to do better.
So those are some of my suggestions on coping. Let me know if you have any to add. We'll see how it goes. In the meantime, if you see me in the grocery store at 9pm muttering to myself about how in the world they can make milk expiration dates so far out before I realize that date is actually a week away (true story...), you have my permission to slap me across the face, lead me to the chocolate aisle to pick out something nice, and then send me home.
School Days Update
Monday, November 6, 2017
I cannot believe the kids have been in school for nearly three months already. Almost as equally unbelievable is that I haven't blogged a single word about it. I know if I try to capture all that has happened in the last quarter of a year (yeesh) this post will take a sweet forever to write, so I'm going to try to just hit the highlights for each kid.
For Luke, there was definitely a "honeymoon period" for the first week or two. He enjoyed finally getting to be in the same building as his big sister and loved meeting so many new friends. Sometime around the end of the second or third week, however, he began asking "Is today a school day?" every morning when I woke him up. Yes, bless your heart. Most days are going to be a school day for a long, long time, Bubba.
He doesn't hate it, he just doesn't love it. And I can't say I blame him. Kindergarten is no joke anymore...there are no building blocks, painting projects, or nap times. It's a lot of work and it's a long day! The good news is that Audrey wasn't crazy about kindergarten either but grew to love school in first grade, so hopefully he'll be the same way.
It helps that the school does a phenomenal job of keeping the kindergarteners engaged and interested with the curriculum and programs. They have already had several STEM projects, in-school field trips with "High-Touch, High-Tech" science programs, career day (where a lifeline helicopter landed on the PE field!), and visits to their school's interactive "career lab". They've watched the fifth graders put on a play of The Three Billy Goats Gruff and done fun Halloween rotations between the other classes. They keep them busy learning in fun ways, that's for sure!
His teacher is wonderful and his class has a lot of sweet friends. There are a few ESL (English as a second language) students in there, and he has taken to a couple of them as a quasi-guardian, which is precious. I've always said he would have made a fantastic big brother, so I like that he gets to use some of those nurturing and leadership skills in his class.
In his own words, he loves recess and riding the bus home and, as of this morning, his favorite special is "Art. No, Think Lab. Maybe both."
Audrey has settled into third grade well. The first week was a little tough because her teacher last year was super bubbly whereas this year's teacher is a little more reserved. When I pointed out that maybe she was more introverted like Audrey is herself, she started to see her through a different lens. I challenged her to come up with a couple of good traits her current teacher had instead of just comparing her to former teachers and that helped a lot too. And let me clarify that I adore her teacher. She is a wonderful instructor and has a fantastic sense of humor, which I so appreciate. She was one of the three finalists for the school's teacher of the year, which speaks volumes about her skills and reputation.
The workload and intensity has increased quite a bit this year. She has accelerated math every day and Focus (gifted class) twice a week, which means she's changing classes and has multiple teachers...something I didn't do until middle school. There is at least one test every week and her homework load is heavier. We're still only spending an average of about 20 minutes every night (not including her 20 minutes of reading because she covers that on her own no problem), but it's one more thing to keep track of and remind her about. I'm trying to follow some advice their preschool teacher once gave me in this area and create good habits of independence now. Beginning with third graders, the school requires them to buy an agenda in which they are responsible for writing down assignments, due dates, tests, etc. Of course my little mini-me enjoys that and stays on top of it.
Socially she is doing great. She started the year with a few familiar friends in her class, but it takes her a little more effort and time to make new friends. Once she was able to break the ice, things definitely got better.
When I asked her this morning about her favorite parts of third grade so far she replied, "Recess, art, technology lab, and writing."
So that is a fly-by overview of how they're both doing with school. As for me and my own personal adjustments, well, that's another post for another time. Hopefully in less than three more months!
For Luke, there was definitely a "honeymoon period" for the first week or two. He enjoyed finally getting to be in the same building as his big sister and loved meeting so many new friends. Sometime around the end of the second or third week, however, he began asking "Is today a school day?" every morning when I woke him up. Yes, bless your heart. Most days are going to be a school day for a long, long time, Bubba.
He doesn't hate it, he just doesn't love it. And I can't say I blame him. Kindergarten is no joke anymore...there are no building blocks, painting projects, or nap times. It's a lot of work and it's a long day! The good news is that Audrey wasn't crazy about kindergarten either but grew to love school in first grade, so hopefully he'll be the same way.
It helps that the school does a phenomenal job of keeping the kindergarteners engaged and interested with the curriculum and programs. They have already had several STEM projects, in-school field trips with "High-Touch, High-Tech" science programs, career day (where a lifeline helicopter landed on the PE field!), and visits to their school's interactive "career lab". They've watched the fifth graders put on a play of The Three Billy Goats Gruff and done fun Halloween rotations between the other classes. They keep them busy learning in fun ways, that's for sure!
His teacher is wonderful and his class has a lot of sweet friends. There are a few ESL (English as a second language) students in there, and he has taken to a couple of them as a quasi-guardian, which is precious. I've always said he would have made a fantastic big brother, so I like that he gets to use some of those nurturing and leadership skills in his class.
In his own words, he loves recess and riding the bus home and, as of this morning, his favorite special is "Art. No, Think Lab. Maybe both."
Audrey has settled into third grade well. The first week was a little tough because her teacher last year was super bubbly whereas this year's teacher is a little more reserved. When I pointed out that maybe she was more introverted like Audrey is herself, she started to see her through a different lens. I challenged her to come up with a couple of good traits her current teacher had instead of just comparing her to former teachers and that helped a lot too. And let me clarify that I adore her teacher. She is a wonderful instructor and has a fantastic sense of humor, which I so appreciate. She was one of the three finalists for the school's teacher of the year, which speaks volumes about her skills and reputation.
The workload and intensity has increased quite a bit this year. She has accelerated math every day and Focus (gifted class) twice a week, which means she's changing classes and has multiple teachers...something I didn't do until middle school. There is at least one test every week and her homework load is heavier. We're still only spending an average of about 20 minutes every night (not including her 20 minutes of reading because she covers that on her own no problem), but it's one more thing to keep track of and remind her about. I'm trying to follow some advice their preschool teacher once gave me in this area and create good habits of independence now. Beginning with third graders, the school requires them to buy an agenda in which they are responsible for writing down assignments, due dates, tests, etc. Of course my little mini-me enjoys that and stays on top of it.
Socially she is doing great. She started the year with a few familiar friends in her class, but it takes her a little more effort and time to make new friends. Once she was able to break the ice, things definitely got better.
When I asked her this morning about her favorite parts of third grade so far she replied, "Recess, art, technology lab, and writing."
So that is a fly-by overview of how they're both doing with school. As for me and my own personal adjustments, well, that's another post for another time. Hopefully in less than three more months!
A Letter to Luke on Kindergarten Eve
Sunday, August 6, 2017
Dear Luke,
Tomorrow you start kindergarten. Lunch has been packed, clothes are laid out, "jitter glitter" has been sprinkled under your pillow. Tomorrow you will finally be a big, bad kindergartener. At least that's what everyone will tell you. We'll all say how grown up you are and how great you're going to do and we'll wish you all the best. Everyone will be giving big smiles and big thumbs up. It'll feel like a party...a celebration...a major milestone!
But that may not match how you feel on the inside, and I want you to know that that is totally okay. For sure you'll feel some excitement. But you may also feel nervous and scared. You might worry about potty trips or mean kids or whether you'll be able to finish lunch in time (sorry...that one may be my fault for constantly telling you that you will never finish lunch at school if you eat at your normal pace.)
All of those feelings are completely normal. And do you want to know a secret? It's exactly how Mommy feels too. I will put on a brave face in front of you, but truthfully I am nervous, scared, and worried for you and your sister. What if you feel all alone? What if someone hurts your feelings? What if you learn words or ideals I'm not ready for you to know about? What if you get embarrassed or lost or overwhelmed? Just typing those things brings tears to my eyes because the truth is that I know you will experience all of that and more at one point or another. It's life, Bubba. I cannot always protect you and Audrey from it. And just the knowledge of that is enough to suck the air out of my lungs.
But here's my other secret: Jesus. He and I have already had a lot (I mean a LOT) of conversations about this new chapter. And He has promised me that He will not leave you. He keeps trying to remind me that He loves you more than I do. Isn't that a crazy thought?! But it's the Truth. And if Jesus loves you more than I do, than that must be a million billion trillion GAJILLION percent. He is going to be right there when you're scared, worried, or lonely and He will not take His eyes off of you. He has every hair on your adorable blonde head numbered. Tomorrow morning my grip on you may have to loosen a little, but His never will.
You have a heart of gold, Luke. You are smart, you are hilarious, and you are generous to a fault. You are true and loyal to those lucky enough to call you friend and you are sensitive to others in a way that most grown-ups will never be. You know how to make any situation fun and those dimples can melt the coldest of hearts. But more than ALL of that, you are a child of God. And He's got you in His capable hands.
So remember that. And then remember what we always tell you: bravery doesn't mean not feeling scared. Bravery is feeling scared and then doing the hard thing anyway. I will be praying and cheering you on the whole way. I may not be there with you, but I will be here waiting. To comfort you on the hard days, to celebrate with you on the good ones, and to guide you in the uncertain stuff. After all, I am your biggest fan. No matter what. Every time. Always.
You and Audrey are the lights of my life, Lukey. Now go shine bright.
Love,
Mommy
xoxoxo
Tomorrow you start kindergarten. Lunch has been packed, clothes are laid out, "jitter glitter" has been sprinkled under your pillow. Tomorrow you will finally be a big, bad kindergartener. At least that's what everyone will tell you. We'll all say how grown up you are and how great you're going to do and we'll wish you all the best. Everyone will be giving big smiles and big thumbs up. It'll feel like a party...a celebration...a major milestone!
But that may not match how you feel on the inside, and I want you to know that that is totally okay. For sure you'll feel some excitement. But you may also feel nervous and scared. You might worry about potty trips or mean kids or whether you'll be able to finish lunch in time (sorry...that one may be my fault for constantly telling you that you will never finish lunch at school if you eat at your normal pace.)
All of those feelings are completely normal. And do you want to know a secret? It's exactly how Mommy feels too. I will put on a brave face in front of you, but truthfully I am nervous, scared, and worried for you and your sister. What if you feel all alone? What if someone hurts your feelings? What if you learn words or ideals I'm not ready for you to know about? What if you get embarrassed or lost or overwhelmed? Just typing those things brings tears to my eyes because the truth is that I know you will experience all of that and more at one point or another. It's life, Bubba. I cannot always protect you and Audrey from it. And just the knowledge of that is enough to suck the air out of my lungs.
But here's my other secret: Jesus. He and I have already had a lot (I mean a LOT) of conversations about this new chapter. And He has promised me that He will not leave you. He keeps trying to remind me that He loves you more than I do. Isn't that a crazy thought?! But it's the Truth. And if Jesus loves you more than I do, than that must be a million billion trillion GAJILLION percent. He is going to be right there when you're scared, worried, or lonely and He will not take His eyes off of you. He has every hair on your adorable blonde head numbered. Tomorrow morning my grip on you may have to loosen a little, but His never will.
You have a heart of gold, Luke. You are smart, you are hilarious, and you are generous to a fault. You are true and loyal to those lucky enough to call you friend and you are sensitive to others in a way that most grown-ups will never be. You know how to make any situation fun and those dimples can melt the coldest of hearts. But more than ALL of that, you are a child of God. And He's got you in His capable hands.
So remember that. And then remember what we always tell you: bravery doesn't mean not feeling scared. Bravery is feeling scared and then doing the hard thing anyway. I will be praying and cheering you on the whole way. I may not be there with you, but I will be here waiting. To comfort you on the hard days, to celebrate with you on the good ones, and to guide you in the uncertain stuff. After all, I am your biggest fan. No matter what. Every time. Always.
You and Audrey are the lights of my life, Lukey. Now go shine bright.
Love,
Mommy
xoxoxo
Now What?
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
It's hard for me to believe, but in less than a week Luke will be starting kindergarten. Like my heartbeat when I write that, I have started and stopped this blog post several times because I'm not quite sure how to articulate my feelings about this milestone.
(If you missed my many, MANY words on this situation when we first went through it with Audrey, here the links to my three-part blog series: Kindergarten, Part I , Kindergarten, Part II, Kindergarten, Part III: A Letter to My Daughter. Lawdy did I have some thoughts.)
Some of those emotions are the same. I am anxious and worried about him, just as I was with her. I have a better idea of what to expect this time around, but he is a different kid in a different class with a different teacher. Add to that that he is my baby. He still says things like "putend" (pretend) and "disdusting" (disgusting). Audrey seemed so much bigger and older to us because Luke was just two years old when she started. Now that I don't have a younger one around for comparison, I realize just how itty bitty a five year old is.
Though the worry is similar, there is a deeper level of heartache this go-round. It's also a little more self-centered this time. What has been my job for the past 8+ years is about to change. Drastically. I feel it the most every time someone asks "What are you going to do with all that time on your hands?!" I usually offer a half-hearted chuckle and mutter a joke about taking a nap before changing the subject. But as we move on, the validity of their question lingers.
I am clear on one thing: I am not interested in going back to work yet, even part time. (Nor am I interested in selling anything, so please don't ask.) After some quick math, I calculated that there are approximately 81 weekdays that the kids are out of school each year. That is 22 percent of the year. Not to mention any sick days or the three hours each afternoon when they are dismissed before usual office hours are over. Unless I found a job inside the same school system, I would have to work some or all of that time, which I definitely do not want to do. (Obviously it is not lost on me that this is a very special position to be in, and I am incredibly grateful to even have the choice.)
Of course I know what I'll do with a big bulk of my time. I'll be at the school with them pulling double room mom duty for their classes, being a classroom volunteer (different thing) for both their classes, and filling my new PTA Board position as Community Outreach Co-Chair. I will continue to support their teachers and love on their peers in big and small ways. There is always, always something that needs doing up there and I can stay as busy as I want to be.
And there will always be something else going on, too. In addition to the two PTA meetings I have the first week, there is also a consignment sale to finish pricing for and dropping-off and we're hosting a cookout/baby "sprinkle" that first weekend. To say nothing of the Timber Trek work that I am behind on. And that's just during their first week!
There will be special PTA events, personal races, holidays, and small group/church responsibilities that will all vie for my attention. We will host showers and gatherings that will also keep me busy. Plus our nearly twenty year old house is constantly needing something done, including an upcoming project we may be about to start that involves a sledgehammer. FUN!
But. BUT. I'd be lying if I didn't confess that there is another feeling at play here. I can't quite put a label on it, but the closest thing I can come up with is "obsolete." As in, run out of use. Unnecessary. Now I know that is a lie. Of course my kids will still need me very much. But it doesn't change the fact that I am feeling a bit of that right now. As I shared with a girlfriend this week, unless you are a stay at home parent who is going to continue being a stay at home parent, I don't think you can fully grasp the shift and the sadness. Does it mean I'd go back and do things differently to avoid it? Not a chance.
The truth is, I don't yet know exactly how things are going to look. If there is one lesson parenting has taught me, it's not to make sweeping statements about how things are going to be in a certain stage before I am actually in that stage. As the old joke goes: I was a perfect parent until I had kids!
I do know that I'll have to put some guards in place. Just because I will be more available doesn't mean I have to say yes to every opportunity or need that comes up. People will undoubtedly make assumptions about my availability and may get disappointed or judgmental when I turn them down. But let me go ahead and make it clear now: I will turn stuff down. Being involved in their school will be the big majority of my "job", but it cannot be everything for a number of reasons, namely both my sanity and David's. I'm determined to work hard to keep discerning my "best yes" and manage my calendar, including being fiercely protective of our family time.
I also know that I am not going to allow myself to be sucked into a new level of perfectionism or performance. Just because I may have the time to needlepoint 24 stockings for a class Christmas party does not mean I will (...or should. Seriously. I can barely sew on a button.) Rest assured that this mama will still be bringing store-bought treats and phoning it in on occasion, just like people with outside jobs do from time to time with their work responsibilities.
So there are some things I am sure of: I'm not going back to work and I don't have to say yes to or be perfect at every volunteer role that comes across my lap. But there is still an awful lot of unknown ahead of me. I'm trying to reframe my thinking to look at it as possibility. Maybe I'll start leading women's Bible Study again. Maybe I'll take on a few pro-bono babysitting gigs for nearby mamas with little ones. Maybe I'll exercise at some hour other than 5:30am. Maybe I'll finally finish Luke's baby book or not wait until the witching hour to cook dinner every day or be able to clean my house all at once without being interrupted. (I will desperately miss having them nearby while I'm doing some things...most things...but cleaning and grocery shopping are NOT on that list.)
Yes, things are about to change drastically for both me and Luke. He will undoubtedly handle it like a champ. I will probably fumble a little more and change my direction a few times, but we'll both eventually figure it out. I've had a very clear-cut purpose and routine for 8+ years. It's okay if it takes me a minute to write this next chapter. And it's okay if I have some heartache as I do. Like I tell the kids: If you're sad it's over, that's a sign that you had a great time. These last eight years have been a lot of things: hard, imperfect, exhausting, etc. But oh my have they also been wonderful. So sweet and so full and so very, very worth it. Here's to the next phase...and maybe a short congratulatory nap, too.
(If you missed my many, MANY words on this situation when we first went through it with Audrey, here the links to my three-part blog series: Kindergarten, Part I , Kindergarten, Part II, Kindergarten, Part III: A Letter to My Daughter. Lawdy did I have some thoughts.)
Some of those emotions are the same. I am anxious and worried about him, just as I was with her. I have a better idea of what to expect this time around, but he is a different kid in a different class with a different teacher. Add to that that he is my baby. He still says things like "putend" (pretend) and "disdusting" (disgusting). Audrey seemed so much bigger and older to us because Luke was just two years old when she started. Now that I don't have a younger one around for comparison, I realize just how itty bitty a five year old is.
Though the worry is similar, there is a deeper level of heartache this go-round. It's also a little more self-centered this time. What has been my job for the past 8+ years is about to change. Drastically. I feel it the most every time someone asks "What are you going to do with all that time on your hands?!" I usually offer a half-hearted chuckle and mutter a joke about taking a nap before changing the subject. But as we move on, the validity of their question lingers.
I am clear on one thing: I am not interested in going back to work yet, even part time. (Nor am I interested in selling anything, so please don't ask.) After some quick math, I calculated that there are approximately 81 weekdays that the kids are out of school each year. That is 22 percent of the year. Not to mention any sick days or the three hours each afternoon when they are dismissed before usual office hours are over. Unless I found a job inside the same school system, I would have to work some or all of that time, which I definitely do not want to do. (Obviously it is not lost on me that this is a very special position to be in, and I am incredibly grateful to even have the choice.)
Of course I know what I'll do with a big bulk of my time. I'll be at the school with them pulling double room mom duty for their classes, being a classroom volunteer (different thing) for both their classes, and filling my new PTA Board position as Community Outreach Co-Chair. I will continue to support their teachers and love on their peers in big and small ways. There is always, always something that needs doing up there and I can stay as busy as I want to be.
And there will always be something else going on, too. In addition to the two PTA meetings I have the first week, there is also a consignment sale to finish pricing for and dropping-off and we're hosting a cookout/baby "sprinkle" that first weekend. To say nothing of the Timber Trek work that I am behind on. And that's just during their first week!
There will be special PTA events, personal races, holidays, and small group/church responsibilities that will all vie for my attention. We will host showers and gatherings that will also keep me busy. Plus our nearly twenty year old house is constantly needing something done, including an upcoming project we may be about to start that involves a sledgehammer. FUN!
But. BUT. I'd be lying if I didn't confess that there is another feeling at play here. I can't quite put a label on it, but the closest thing I can come up with is "obsolete." As in, run out of use. Unnecessary. Now I know that is a lie. Of course my kids will still need me very much. But it doesn't change the fact that I am feeling a bit of that right now. As I shared with a girlfriend this week, unless you are a stay at home parent who is going to continue being a stay at home parent, I don't think you can fully grasp the shift and the sadness. Does it mean I'd go back and do things differently to avoid it? Not a chance.
The truth is, I don't yet know exactly how things are going to look. If there is one lesson parenting has taught me, it's not to make sweeping statements about how things are going to be in a certain stage before I am actually in that stage. As the old joke goes: I was a perfect parent until I had kids!
I do know that I'll have to put some guards in place. Just because I will be more available doesn't mean I have to say yes to every opportunity or need that comes up. People will undoubtedly make assumptions about my availability and may get disappointed or judgmental when I turn them down. But let me go ahead and make it clear now: I will turn stuff down. Being involved in their school will be the big majority of my "job", but it cannot be everything for a number of reasons, namely both my sanity and David's. I'm determined to work hard to keep discerning my "best yes" and manage my calendar, including being fiercely protective of our family time.
I also know that I am not going to allow myself to be sucked into a new level of perfectionism or performance. Just because I may have the time to needlepoint 24 stockings for a class Christmas party does not mean I will (...or should. Seriously. I can barely sew on a button.) Rest assured that this mama will still be bringing store-bought treats and phoning it in on occasion, just like people with outside jobs do from time to time with their work responsibilities.
So there are some things I am sure of: I'm not going back to work and I don't have to say yes to or be perfect at every volunteer role that comes across my lap. But there is still an awful lot of unknown ahead of me. I'm trying to reframe my thinking to look at it as possibility. Maybe I'll start leading women's Bible Study again. Maybe I'll take on a few pro-bono babysitting gigs for nearby mamas with little ones. Maybe I'll exercise at some hour other than 5:30am. Maybe I'll finally finish Luke's baby book or not wait until the witching hour to cook dinner every day or be able to clean my house all at once without being interrupted. (I will desperately miss having them nearby while I'm doing some things...most things...but cleaning and grocery shopping are NOT on that list.)
Yes, things are about to change drastically for both me and Luke. He will undoubtedly handle it like a champ. I will probably fumble a little more and change my direction a few times, but we'll both eventually figure it out. I've had a very clear-cut purpose and routine for 8+ years. It's okay if it takes me a minute to write this next chapter. And it's okay if I have some heartache as I do. Like I tell the kids: If you're sad it's over, that's a sign that you had a great time. These last eight years have been a lot of things: hard, imperfect, exhausting, etc. But oh my have they also been wonderful. So sweet and so full and so very, very worth it. Here's to the next phase...and maybe a short congratulatory nap, too.
July 2013
June 2017/Audrey's 8th Birthday Recap
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
I know I've been trying to get away from doing the monthly recaps, but I can justify this one because I think it'll be pretty short and easy.
(Sidenote: If you missed it, I already covered a lot of the activity of last month in these in-depth posts: Triathlon #3 - June 3, 2017 in Greenville, Trip to Boston, and Triathlon #4 - June 17, 2017 in Callaway Gardens.)
So between all of that, what else did we possibly have time for?!
Well the biggest thing of course was that Audrey turned 8! That morning before David left for work we gave her her birthday present from us: a new desk and chair for her bedroom, complete with stationary supplies. She adored it and immediately began organizing her rubber bands and new pink accessories, just as I knew she would.
She got to plan out the day from start to finish, so after I tore her away from her new desk, we began at Kids Up (where I think she and Luke quickly realized they are now too old for Kids Up. Sad.) Afterward we stopped by Jilly's Cupcakery to pick out her birthday cupcake and then came home for lunch and rest. That afternoon we went back out to Queen of Hearts (a big antique store that she loves to roam around in) and the mall, where David met us for some shopping and dinner. She chose a dress from Gymboree and hairbands and stick-on earrings from Claire's. Per her request, we searched fruitlessly for a tankini bathing suit that looked appropriate and finally gave up and rode the merry-go-round. She chose Tin Lizzy's restaurant for dinner, but obviously refused to let us tell them it was her special day, so there was no embarrassing singing. David drove the kids home in the van while I went by the Dollar Tree to grab the last few favors for her birthday party. I walked in the door around 7:25 and by 7:29 (the time of her birth), we were singing to her and enjoying our cupcakes. It was a simple but really fun day that was full of both "she's getting so old" moments (choosing shopping at the mall as your birthday activity?!) but also a feeling of "she's still firmly planted in kid world, thank the Lord" (you want to ride the merry-go-round? Of course!)
We celebrated with family and friends at her "Cartwheels and Cupcakes"-themed birthday party that Saturday held at her gymnastics gym. She had about 14 friends (mostly friends plus their little brothers!) and they spent an hour on the floor doing an obstacle course, bar work, and rope swinging. Afterward we went into the party room where they got to decorate their own cupcakes and pose for pictures with photo booth props. Audrey decided to open her presents there and it was a flurry of wrapping paper and ribbon. Before we knew it, it was time to pack up and head home. The only consolation was that my mom came back and stayed the night with us so she could start her "shift" for mine and David's trip to Boston the next morning. We had pizza and then watched Little Big Shots before turning in.
Other highlights of the month included a week of gymnastics camp for the kids, a few playdates, some trips to the pool, a splash pad gathering with our small group buddies, visits to the library, a couple of dentist appointments, a trip to the dollar movies to see Trolls, Father's day celebration meals, and a girls' night in for our small group. Our church also broke ground on their new campus, which means our days of meeting in a nearby high school are numbered. We're excited, but since we're not the ones getting up at 4:30am every Sunday to get there for set-up, it's not quite as big of a deal to us!
So I guess we did find time to squeeze in a few other things in June after all! It was a really good month with a bunch of summertime adventures, but I do hope we get a little more taste of the lazy side of the season next month. Pictures will be up on Facebook soon, so check them out there.
(Sidenote: If you missed it, I already covered a lot of the activity of last month in these in-depth posts: Triathlon #3 - June 3, 2017 in Greenville, Trip to Boston, and Triathlon #4 - June 17, 2017 in Callaway Gardens.)
So between all of that, what else did we possibly have time for?!
Well the biggest thing of course was that Audrey turned 8! That morning before David left for work we gave her her birthday present from us: a new desk and chair for her bedroom, complete with stationary supplies. She adored it and immediately began organizing her rubber bands and new pink accessories, just as I knew she would.
She got to plan out the day from start to finish, so after I tore her away from her new desk, we began at Kids Up (where I think she and Luke quickly realized they are now too old for Kids Up. Sad.) Afterward we stopped by Jilly's Cupcakery to pick out her birthday cupcake and then came home for lunch and rest. That afternoon we went back out to Queen of Hearts (a big antique store that she loves to roam around in) and the mall, where David met us for some shopping and dinner. She chose a dress from Gymboree and hairbands and stick-on earrings from Claire's. Per her request, we searched fruitlessly for a tankini bathing suit that looked appropriate and finally gave up and rode the merry-go-round. She chose Tin Lizzy's restaurant for dinner, but obviously refused to let us tell them it was her special day, so there was no embarrassing singing. David drove the kids home in the van while I went by the Dollar Tree to grab the last few favors for her birthday party. I walked in the door around 7:25 and by 7:29 (the time of her birth), we were singing to her and enjoying our cupcakes. It was a simple but really fun day that was full of both "she's getting so old" moments (choosing shopping at the mall as your birthday activity?!) but also a feeling of "she's still firmly planted in kid world, thank the Lord" (you want to ride the merry-go-round? Of course!)
We celebrated with family and friends at her "Cartwheels and Cupcakes"-themed birthday party that Saturday held at her gymnastics gym. She had about 14 friends (mostly friends plus their little brothers!) and they spent an hour on the floor doing an obstacle course, bar work, and rope swinging. Afterward we went into the party room where they got to decorate their own cupcakes and pose for pictures with photo booth props. Audrey decided to open her presents there and it was a flurry of wrapping paper and ribbon. Before we knew it, it was time to pack up and head home. The only consolation was that my mom came back and stayed the night with us so she could start her "shift" for mine and David's trip to Boston the next morning. We had pizza and then watched Little Big Shots before turning in.
Other highlights of the month included a week of gymnastics camp for the kids, a few playdates, some trips to the pool, a splash pad gathering with our small group buddies, visits to the library, a couple of dentist appointments, a trip to the dollar movies to see Trolls, Father's day celebration meals, and a girls' night in for our small group. Our church also broke ground on their new campus, which means our days of meeting in a nearby high school are numbered. We're excited, but since we're not the ones getting up at 4:30am every Sunday to get there for set-up, it's not quite as big of a deal to us!
So I guess we did find time to squeeze in a few other things in June after all! It was a really good month with a bunch of summertime adventures, but I do hope we get a little more taste of the lazy side of the season next month. Pictures will be up on Facebook soon, so check them out there.
Triathlon #4 - June 17, 2017 in Callaway Gardens
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
A few weeks ago, David, the kids, and I loaded up and headed down to Callaway Gardens for the weekend. I was participating in a triathlon there that Saturday morning and we opted to make a family weekend out of it. We arrived around lunchtime on Friday and after searching fruitlessly (though admittedly not very long) for a picnic area, we ate our packed lunch in our hotel room. We changed into bathing suits, slathered on sunscreen, and headed to Robin Lake Beach.
The kids had so much fun splashing and swimming in the mostly shallow water. It was hot, but the water kept us cool. I was so worried about getting sunburned and dehydrated for the following day's race that I was constantly seeking shade or covering up. I joked with David that that must be what his pale-self feels like all the time! We chased fish around in the water for awhile and dug in the sand. Around 4pm, I picked up my race packet at the nearby pavilion and got the info on swim start waves. After about another hour of playtime, we went back to the hotel to shower and change for dinner.
Though we had been warned about how terrible the food onsite was, we opted to eat at our hotel's restaurant. We got some grilled chicken and fruit for Audrey and chicken fingers for Luke. I got a salad with chicken and I can't remember what David got, but it was all pretty gross. The service was great, but they the food really was as bad as we had heard. Unfortunately there just aren't any other restaurant options closeby down there. We decided to wash it down with some ice cream, so we drove back to the ice cream truck we'd seen at Robin Lake Beach earlier that day. I asked about gluten-free flavors and the lady told me that all of their ice cream had gluten in it. This is not unheard of (all of Bluebell has wheat flour in it), but it is extremely rare. Whether it was true or not, we weren't going to chance it. We slunked away and promised the kids we'd find something else.
We ended up finding a ice cream shop in a gas station center and went inside to see what they offered. They did have some GF choices, so we placed our order and climbed onto stools at a high-top. On the way back into Callaway, we decided to stop by the acrobatic circus that Florida State University students were putting on for free. We stayed about an hour, watching some pretty impressive stunts and swinging acts. It ended around 9pm and we drove back to our hotel to turn in for the night. Unfortunately, Audrey didn't sleep well (she had stomachache on top of usual insomnia) and neither did I (nerves and Audrey), so it was not ideal when my alarm clock went off at 5:30am. I dressed quietly in the dark before waking everyone else. They were grumpy, but they obliged.
As we pulled into the parking lot, I took one look at the transition area and felt panic rise in my chest. It was packed full. I'd read just days earlier that this event draws 400-500 participants, which is about 300-400 more than my other triathlons have been. YIKES. That was a LOT of elbows and feet to get hit with during the swim and a lot of bikes to pass or be passed by on the course!
We managed to find a parking spot and hauled my bike and gear to transition. I laid out all of my stuff and then went to get body marked and grab my chip timer. I walked back to transition to double and triple check that my stuff was in order before joining the growing line at the bathroom. I chatted with a few of the ladies near me, some of which had done the race before. I always like hearing their tips for the course, though sometimes they also throw in a tidbit that doesn't help my nerves at all ("Oh yeah. The run is killer." Greeeeeaaaaat.)
Before long it was time for me to walk the 1/4 mile over to the swim start. I said goodbye to the kids and got good luck hugs, but not before tearing up and whispering to David that I was super scared. My last swim on my previous tri a few weeks prior had been terrible, and my mind wasn't going to let me forget about it. He smiled and said confidently, "You're going to do great! It's shallow enough to touch!" and then sent me on my way.
I headed over and spotted a woman walking solo near me. I struck up a conversation with her and discovered it was her very first triathlon. There is nothing that will help calm your nerves faster than to get outside of your own head and encourage someone else. We talked through the course and I assured her that her training would get her through. The two of us met up with another group of ladies while standing around on the beach and soon we were all laughing and building each other up. Just one more reason I love this sport: complete strangers become friends quickly through the bond of the race. You all know what you put in to get to that point and everyone completely understands how nervous and excited you are to just get across that finish line. As with motherhood, there is a lot that is unspoken but understood in the club.
The race director made a few announcements, a local pastor said a prayer, and then the National Anthem played. Before I knew it, I was watching the mens' swim waves start. The director had explained earlier that if you were a seasoned triathlete and strong swimmer, you needed to stay to the right of the course. If, however, you were a new athlete or not a great swimmer, you were encouraged to stay to the left. As I watched wave after wave go, I realized that the middle was wide open. Hmmmm...I think I had just found my strategy.
I lined up at the back of my start wave, which was the women ages 35-39 group (in USTA sanctioned events, your age group is based on what age you will turn on December 31st of that calendar year. For me this would mean a pretty big disadvantage because my birthday isn't until December 30th. However, since it put me in the bottom age of the next bracket, it probably helped me.) Anyway, I stood near the back and tried to slow my breathing while I heard them count down 3, 2, 1...
We were off. I stayed in the middle and swam slow. As I'd learned during my one open water practice swim in Lanier, I do not care for open water swims. For one thing, you can't see at all. For another, you don't get that 2-3 second break at the end of each lane to put your feet down and catch your breath as you dunk under the rope to the next lane. (For a third thing, did y'all know fish live in lakes?! BIG fish. And all you can do is pray you don't get nibbled on by one.)
I paced myself and found the right balance of concentration and distraction. You want to think about each stroke while simultaneously letting your mind wander a bit in an effort to avoid becoming terrified of what you're actually doing. Things were going swimmingly (HA!) until my googles got so fogged I was forced to pop up and try to rub them clear. As I reached to put my feet down, I realized I couldn't touch. "BUT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHALLOW ENOUGH TO TOUCH! I CAN'T TOUCH!!!" I panicked. For a split second, all I could think about was my struggle in the pool at my last race. Although in this one there was no side or rope to grab. Lifeguards were nearby, but what if they couldn't see me?!
Then almost as quickly as those thoughts entered my mind, they were replaced with "You're fine, Heather. You don't actually need to touch right now. Just put your goggles back on and keep swimming. Make your way closer to the shoreline if you need to, but you are in no real danger right now." I am positive that calming peace was because of the prayers my friends and family had said and were saying for me at that very moment. I pulled my goggles down and started back. I figured that if I got kicked in the face, I would know I got too close to someone else. And if I came to a super shallow part and looked up, I would see people getting out and know I was at the end.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before I saw people around me walking. Some of them started a good ways out from the exit, so I continued to swim and kept an eye on when to stop. I remember thinking, "Was that really it? I totally could've kept going!" (Thank you, Lord!) I got to the exit, stood up, and tried to clear the lake water from my eyes. As soon as I could see straight, I searched the cheering crowd along the shore for my crew. There they were! They clapped and yelled for me as I jogged up the hill to transition area. I rushed to dry my feet, put on my socks and shoes, and unrack my bike. I hustled it along to the bike exit, mounted it while holding a GU gel in my teeth, and pedaled off.
The bike route was fairly easy. It was a good bit shorter than my previous race, so I pushed myself to go a little faster than I normally do. I ended up passing quite a few people, which is a rarity for me. I guess in a race of that size, you have more people both ahead of and behind you. It was a little annoying to have to deal with passing so much (and don't get me wrong...being passed, too!) I am used to only having a few other cyclists near me on a course. At one point the course went down a steep hill with a sharp curve at the bottom. I saw that someone had wrecked and there was a group of 6-7 other cyclists that had stopped to help. Flying by at 20 mph, I decided I wouldn't have been able to add anything to their rescue and kept going. I came to find out later that the cyclist had hit a tree and actually passed away later that day from the impact. It was unbelievably sad and sobering.
As I rode back into the transition, David and the kids waved hello to me and snapped a few pictures. I racked my bike, clipped on my hydration belt, and took off for the run. My legs were their usual jello, but I knew if I could just get through that first mile they would cooperate. Though it was flat, the run was tough. There was a long stretch without a stitch of shade and it was HOT. I encouraged others as I ran by, probably annoying the crap out of them but it distracted me for a moment. I didn't have any music or podcasts, so you just have to play mind games with yourself to keep from quitting or going insane.
I grabbed a cup of water at the hydration station and dumped it over myself. There was finally some shaded woods up ahead and I willed myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got there. The quote "You don't train for a race so there won't be any pain during it. You train so that you can endure the pain" popped in my head. I started the usual bargaining I do with myself "Okay, Heather. You never, ever have to do one of these stupid awful races ever in your life again. Ever. BUT you have to finish this one."
At one point near the end, I got passed by someone. When this happens, it's natural to always look at their calf to see how old they are. This particular person happened to be a 13 year old boy. I thought to myself, "Are you really going to let yourself get passed by a 13 year old boy?!" And then I answered: "Yes. Yes you are. Because he's a 13 year old boy and, though some days you still think you are 18, you are now a 34 year old woman." And suddenly I became okay with him outrunning me.
I broke out of the woods and into the sunshine. Glancing at my Garmin watch, I knew I had to be getting close to the finish line. I tried to ramp it up a smidge as we went up a short hill. Coming down on the other side, I saw and heard the crowd. Finishers were lined up wearing their medals and cheering us on. I spotted David and the kids out of the corner of my eye as they got up to run over to the finish line. I heard David yell "GO HEATHER! GET 'ER DONE!!!" which was all I needed to sprint the last 100 yards across. I ducked my head as a volunteer put the finisher's medal over my neck. It was gorgeous...and it was hard earned.
Behind me I heard some commotion and realized someone had just proposed to his girlfriend as she came across the finish line. My first thought was "Aw! How sweet!" followed by "Good gravy, I hope she doesn't have a heart attack from being stopped and then shocked like that." I searched the crowd for my crew and heard David yelling for me. He and the kids hugged and congratulated me as we headed over to the pavilion for water and snacks. They had a ton of huge pizzas, but I couldn't quite stomach that so I got some fruit, Cerasport, and then a few minutes later, a cookie. We sat and talked about the race, but it wasn't long before I knew it was time to head back to the hotel. The kids were antsy and tired of just standing around.
Audrey helped me gather my gear and then Luke and David pushed the bike back to the van. We went to the hotel where I took a luxurious shower before we checked out and loaded up. We drove over to the bicycle rental place and I pointed out all of the trails where I'd biked just a while earlier.
After getting a short safety briefing, we climbed on our special duo-bikes (I have no idea what they're called. It's a regular bike with a long bar in the back that connects to an apparatus with another wheel, a set of pedals, and a child's seat.) I will be the first to confess that it was incredibly difficult for me to get the hang of this thing. My current road bike is lighter than Audrey's and I was obviously quite used to it. This huge monster was made of steel, which was very heavy and difficult to maneuver. Audrey braved it with me, though, and we took it VERY slow. (I may have actually walked the thing at several points.)
We got to the Butterfly House and went inside for what turned out to be an extremely quick visit. Ever been to the inland part of Florida or Georgia in August? Imagine that heat and oppressive humidity and then multiply it by about a hundred. Then add fire-breathing dragons. And some sauna steam for good measure. That was the inside of this butterfly exhibit. After our five minute tour (no joke), we actually stepped outside and felt chilled in the south Georgia heat, if that tells you anything. Of course it could have been our severe dehydration, but whatever it was, it felt delightful.
We rode back to the area where we rented bikes, this time pairing Luke with me and Audrey with David. (When I offered her the chance to switch, she jumped at it so fast that I laughed instead of being offended.) I was definitely studiER on the way back, though it still made me nervous enough to stop and put my feet down when other bikes passed us. David put the bikes in the rack and we went inside to the little cafe for lunch. I wish I could say the meal was better than what we'd had the night before but I am not a liar. We choked it down and then got back on our bikes to ride over to the chapel. It is such a gorgeous building tucked away in the peaceful woods with stained glass scenes of the four seasons along one side. A nice elderly lady that worked there encouraged us to come back for the organ "concert" in about 45 minutes and we politely nodded, knowing we'd probably choose to skip it in favor of air conditioning.
As we walked back to the bike rack, David was pushing for us to take a longer and more scenic route back. It was at this point that I reminded him, as my quads were reminding me, that I had indeed done a triathlon that morning and that I may be ready for a rest. I was about to suck it up and give in, though, until Luke piped up and said, "I have to go potty!" I know you're not supposed to have favorite children, but at the point, he kinda was mine. I mean, I was totally going to stick it out and ride farther, but Luke had to go!
We made it back to the nature center in time and David returned the bikes while I took the kids to the bathroom. After we were in the clear, we visited the gift shop and picked out a couple of t-shirts and our traditional travel tree ornament. When we felt sure we'd seen all that the Nature Center had to offer, we drove back over near the Butterfly House to walk the hydrangea garden that we'd missed earlier (probably due to our heat stroke daze.) There was also a pioneer-era cabin that we walked through. The kids were absolutely stunned that that was once someone's entire house. The placard on display explained that the family that originally lived there had 13 children. Good gravy. For sure that generation was made of stronger stuff than ours'.
It was nearing 3pm when we decided to call it a day and begin the drive back home. The kids did great on the trek back. Luke fell asleep for a few minutes, which wasn't surprising since they'd gotten up at 6am and had a full day of walking and pedaling. We got home just in time to order pizza for dinner, which tasted especially delicious after the weekend of crummy food we'd had. I can't remember what dessert I celebrated with that night, but I'm sure I had some and I'm sure it was tasty.
So that was it. Another triathlon in the books. I haven't decided yet whether it will be my last. I don't think so, but good grief it is hard to balance and extremely time consuming to train for three different sports, even when it's "just" a sprint distance. It also leaves me no time for weight training, which is a major contributor to both how I feel about my body and keeping my weight down. It sounds counterintuitive, but I've discovered that I'm always heavier when I'm training for tris or half marathons because A) I'm hungrier B) I think I deserve to eat whatever I want and C) my muscle tone, and therefore, my metabolism, is lower. So we'll see. For now my plan is to start lifting again and keep up a baseline of about a 10k run. I'll likely continue swimming at least once a week because it is so good for the body. Cycling, however, will probably be the thing that goes by the wayside for now. It's dangerous as well as inconvenient. It takes a lot of time to get to a safe course that offers long distances.
I don't know what race I'll sign up for next, but for now I'm going to sit back and enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. I trained for four months straight and missed less than five scheduled workouts that entire time. I dealt with near daily back pain towards the end (I believe from biking). I sacrificed a lot of time, logged a lot of miles, and said a lot of prayers ("Dear God, please send a breeze." "Dear God, please don't let that car hit me.") And most importantly, I didn't drown. Always a plus.
Here are a few pictures for your enjoyment from our weekend at Callaway:
We managed to find a parking spot and hauled my bike and gear to transition. I laid out all of my stuff and then went to get body marked and grab my chip timer. I walked back to transition to double and triple check that my stuff was in order before joining the growing line at the bathroom. I chatted with a few of the ladies near me, some of which had done the race before. I always like hearing their tips for the course, though sometimes they also throw in a tidbit that doesn't help my nerves at all ("Oh yeah. The run is killer." Greeeeeaaaaat.)
Before long it was time for me to walk the 1/4 mile over to the swim start. I said goodbye to the kids and got good luck hugs, but not before tearing up and whispering to David that I was super scared. My last swim on my previous tri a few weeks prior had been terrible, and my mind wasn't going to let me forget about it. He smiled and said confidently, "You're going to do great! It's shallow enough to touch!" and then sent me on my way.
I headed over and spotted a woman walking solo near me. I struck up a conversation with her and discovered it was her very first triathlon. There is nothing that will help calm your nerves faster than to get outside of your own head and encourage someone else. We talked through the course and I assured her that her training would get her through. The two of us met up with another group of ladies while standing around on the beach and soon we were all laughing and building each other up. Just one more reason I love this sport: complete strangers become friends quickly through the bond of the race. You all know what you put in to get to that point and everyone completely understands how nervous and excited you are to just get across that finish line. As with motherhood, there is a lot that is unspoken but understood in the club.
The race director made a few announcements, a local pastor said a prayer, and then the National Anthem played. Before I knew it, I was watching the mens' swim waves start. The director had explained earlier that if you were a seasoned triathlete and strong swimmer, you needed to stay to the right of the course. If, however, you were a new athlete or not a great swimmer, you were encouraged to stay to the left. As I watched wave after wave go, I realized that the middle was wide open. Hmmmm...I think I had just found my strategy.
I lined up at the back of my start wave, which was the women ages 35-39 group (in USTA sanctioned events, your age group is based on what age you will turn on December 31st of that calendar year. For me this would mean a pretty big disadvantage because my birthday isn't until December 30th. However, since it put me in the bottom age of the next bracket, it probably helped me.) Anyway, I stood near the back and tried to slow my breathing while I heard them count down 3, 2, 1...
We were off. I stayed in the middle and swam slow. As I'd learned during my one open water practice swim in Lanier, I do not care for open water swims. For one thing, you can't see at all. For another, you don't get that 2-3 second break at the end of each lane to put your feet down and catch your breath as you dunk under the rope to the next lane. (For a third thing, did y'all know fish live in lakes?! BIG fish. And all you can do is pray you don't get nibbled on by one.)
I paced myself and found the right balance of concentration and distraction. You want to think about each stroke while simultaneously letting your mind wander a bit in an effort to avoid becoming terrified of what you're actually doing. Things were going swimmingly (HA!) until my googles got so fogged I was forced to pop up and try to rub them clear. As I reached to put my feet down, I realized I couldn't touch. "BUT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHALLOW ENOUGH TO TOUCH! I CAN'T TOUCH!!!" I panicked. For a split second, all I could think about was my struggle in the pool at my last race. Although in this one there was no side or rope to grab. Lifeguards were nearby, but what if they couldn't see me?!
Then almost as quickly as those thoughts entered my mind, they were replaced with "You're fine, Heather. You don't actually need to touch right now. Just put your goggles back on and keep swimming. Make your way closer to the shoreline if you need to, but you are in no real danger right now." I am positive that calming peace was because of the prayers my friends and family had said and were saying for me at that very moment. I pulled my goggles down and started back. I figured that if I got kicked in the face, I would know I got too close to someone else. And if I came to a super shallow part and looked up, I would see people getting out and know I was at the end.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before I saw people around me walking. Some of them started a good ways out from the exit, so I continued to swim and kept an eye on when to stop. I remember thinking, "Was that really it? I totally could've kept going!" (Thank you, Lord!) I got to the exit, stood up, and tried to clear the lake water from my eyes. As soon as I could see straight, I searched the cheering crowd along the shore for my crew. There they were! They clapped and yelled for me as I jogged up the hill to transition area. I rushed to dry my feet, put on my socks and shoes, and unrack my bike. I hustled it along to the bike exit, mounted it while holding a GU gel in my teeth, and pedaled off.
The bike route was fairly easy. It was a good bit shorter than my previous race, so I pushed myself to go a little faster than I normally do. I ended up passing quite a few people, which is a rarity for me. I guess in a race of that size, you have more people both ahead of and behind you. It was a little annoying to have to deal with passing so much (and don't get me wrong...being passed, too!) I am used to only having a few other cyclists near me on a course. At one point the course went down a steep hill with a sharp curve at the bottom. I saw that someone had wrecked and there was a group of 6-7 other cyclists that had stopped to help. Flying by at 20 mph, I decided I wouldn't have been able to add anything to their rescue and kept going. I came to find out later that the cyclist had hit a tree and actually passed away later that day from the impact. It was unbelievably sad and sobering.
As I rode back into the transition, David and the kids waved hello to me and snapped a few pictures. I racked my bike, clipped on my hydration belt, and took off for the run. My legs were their usual jello, but I knew if I could just get through that first mile they would cooperate. Though it was flat, the run was tough. There was a long stretch without a stitch of shade and it was HOT. I encouraged others as I ran by, probably annoying the crap out of them but it distracted me for a moment. I didn't have any music or podcasts, so you just have to play mind games with yourself to keep from quitting or going insane.
I grabbed a cup of water at the hydration station and dumped it over myself. There was finally some shaded woods up ahead and I willed myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got there. The quote "You don't train for a race so there won't be any pain during it. You train so that you can endure the pain" popped in my head. I started the usual bargaining I do with myself "Okay, Heather. You never, ever have to do one of these stupid awful races ever in your life again. Ever. BUT you have to finish this one."
At one point near the end, I got passed by someone. When this happens, it's natural to always look at their calf to see how old they are. This particular person happened to be a 13 year old boy. I thought to myself, "Are you really going to let yourself get passed by a 13 year old boy?!" And then I answered: "Yes. Yes you are. Because he's a 13 year old boy and, though some days you still think you are 18, you are now a 34 year old woman." And suddenly I became okay with him outrunning me.
I broke out of the woods and into the sunshine. Glancing at my Garmin watch, I knew I had to be getting close to the finish line. I tried to ramp it up a smidge as we went up a short hill. Coming down on the other side, I saw and heard the crowd. Finishers were lined up wearing their medals and cheering us on. I spotted David and the kids out of the corner of my eye as they got up to run over to the finish line. I heard David yell "GO HEATHER! GET 'ER DONE!!!" which was all I needed to sprint the last 100 yards across. I ducked my head as a volunteer put the finisher's medal over my neck. It was gorgeous...and it was hard earned.
Behind me I heard some commotion and realized someone had just proposed to his girlfriend as she came across the finish line. My first thought was "Aw! How sweet!" followed by "Good gravy, I hope she doesn't have a heart attack from being stopped and then shocked like that." I searched the crowd for my crew and heard David yelling for me. He and the kids hugged and congratulated me as we headed over to the pavilion for water and snacks. They had a ton of huge pizzas, but I couldn't quite stomach that so I got some fruit, Cerasport, and then a few minutes later, a cookie. We sat and talked about the race, but it wasn't long before I knew it was time to head back to the hotel. The kids were antsy and tired of just standing around.
Audrey helped me gather my gear and then Luke and David pushed the bike back to the van. We went to the hotel where I took a luxurious shower before we checked out and loaded up. We drove over to the bicycle rental place and I pointed out all of the trails where I'd biked just a while earlier.
After getting a short safety briefing, we climbed on our special duo-bikes (I have no idea what they're called. It's a regular bike with a long bar in the back that connects to an apparatus with another wheel, a set of pedals, and a child's seat.) I will be the first to confess that it was incredibly difficult for me to get the hang of this thing. My current road bike is lighter than Audrey's and I was obviously quite used to it. This huge monster was made of steel, which was very heavy and difficult to maneuver. Audrey braved it with me, though, and we took it VERY slow. (I may have actually walked the thing at several points.)
We got to the Butterfly House and went inside for what turned out to be an extremely quick visit. Ever been to the inland part of Florida or Georgia in August? Imagine that heat and oppressive humidity and then multiply it by about a hundred. Then add fire-breathing dragons. And some sauna steam for good measure. That was the inside of this butterfly exhibit. After our five minute tour (no joke), we actually stepped outside and felt chilled in the south Georgia heat, if that tells you anything. Of course it could have been our severe dehydration, but whatever it was, it felt delightful.
We rode back to the area where we rented bikes, this time pairing Luke with me and Audrey with David. (When I offered her the chance to switch, she jumped at it so fast that I laughed instead of being offended.) I was definitely studiER on the way back, though it still made me nervous enough to stop and put my feet down when other bikes passed us. David put the bikes in the rack and we went inside to the little cafe for lunch. I wish I could say the meal was better than what we'd had the night before but I am not a liar. We choked it down and then got back on our bikes to ride over to the chapel. It is such a gorgeous building tucked away in the peaceful woods with stained glass scenes of the four seasons along one side. A nice elderly lady that worked there encouraged us to come back for the organ "concert" in about 45 minutes and we politely nodded, knowing we'd probably choose to skip it in favor of air conditioning.
As we walked back to the bike rack, David was pushing for us to take a longer and more scenic route back. It was at this point that I reminded him, as my quads were reminding me, that I had indeed done a triathlon that morning and that I may be ready for a rest. I was about to suck it up and give in, though, until Luke piped up and said, "I have to go potty!" I know you're not supposed to have favorite children, but at the point, he kinda was mine. I mean, I was totally going to stick it out and ride farther, but Luke had to go!
We made it back to the nature center in time and David returned the bikes while I took the kids to the bathroom. After we were in the clear, we visited the gift shop and picked out a couple of t-shirts and our traditional travel tree ornament. When we felt sure we'd seen all that the Nature Center had to offer, we drove back over near the Butterfly House to walk the hydrangea garden that we'd missed earlier (probably due to our heat stroke daze.) There was also a pioneer-era cabin that we walked through. The kids were absolutely stunned that that was once someone's entire house. The placard on display explained that the family that originally lived there had 13 children. Good gravy. For sure that generation was made of stronger stuff than ours'.
It was nearing 3pm when we decided to call it a day and begin the drive back home. The kids did great on the trek back. Luke fell asleep for a few minutes, which wasn't surprising since they'd gotten up at 6am and had a full day of walking and pedaling. We got home just in time to order pizza for dinner, which tasted especially delicious after the weekend of crummy food we'd had. I can't remember what dessert I celebrated with that night, but I'm sure I had some and I'm sure it was tasty.
So that was it. Another triathlon in the books. I haven't decided yet whether it will be my last. I don't think so, but good grief it is hard to balance and extremely time consuming to train for three different sports, even when it's "just" a sprint distance. It also leaves me no time for weight training, which is a major contributor to both how I feel about my body and keeping my weight down. It sounds counterintuitive, but I've discovered that I'm always heavier when I'm training for tris or half marathons because A) I'm hungrier B) I think I deserve to eat whatever I want and C) my muscle tone, and therefore, my metabolism, is lower. So we'll see. For now my plan is to start lifting again and keep up a baseline of about a 10k run. I'll likely continue swimming at least once a week because it is so good for the body. Cycling, however, will probably be the thing that goes by the wayside for now. It's dangerous as well as inconvenient. It takes a lot of time to get to a safe course that offers long distances.
I don't know what race I'll sign up for next, but for now I'm going to sit back and enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. I trained for four months straight and missed less than five scheduled workouts that entire time. I dealt with near daily back pain towards the end (I believe from biking). I sacrificed a lot of time, logged a lot of miles, and said a lot of prayers ("Dear God, please send a breeze." "Dear God, please don't let that car hit me.") And most importantly, I didn't drown. Always a plus.
Here are a few pictures for your enjoyment from our weekend at Callaway:
Audrey and Luke in the big Callaway Chair on Robin Lake Beach
Audrey and Luke in Robin Lake
The acrobatic show put on by FSU students
David took this shot of all of us lined up for the swim start. That's a lot of folks!
Trying to clear my eyes after the swim...
or just in deep prayer thanking God for letting me live.
Feeling pretty good as I headed out for the run
Crossing the finish line. It never gets old!
After the race with my best cheerleaders
This picture means the world to me. There is no way I could do any of my races without the
support and patience of this crew. They sacrifice time, sleep, and comfort to
endure my workout and race schedule and I do not take it for granted.
You know what's fun after a triathlon? More bike riding!
At least I had a little help pedaling this time!
Outside of the Butterfly House. Because standing inside in that heat for even
one more minute was not an option.
Stained glass art of the four seasons inside the Callaway Gardens chapel.
Inside the pioneer-era cabin
My beauties among the beautiful hydrangeas















