Holy Dreams Batman...

plagued. That's how I feel these days. I cannot remember the last time I had a restful nights sleep. My options seem to consist of either: tossing and turning, up every 45 minutes all night, dreaming insanely crazy dreams, or some combination of the three. What I've noticed is: I'm a bitch. I'm not getting rest. I'm still running myself ragged all day- then add in my intense workout schedule lately. I'm naturally exhausted. But, that doesn't seem to matter. I do have a little blue pill- not that kind- Ambien CR 12.5 mg- which is a strong dose. I TRY very hard not to use them often. The truth is, when I take one... I don't remember falling to sleep. I don't remember anything until the sun comes up. You would think that is a good option. However, its really not. I feel drugged. During the day, I have little tolerance for the kids being uncooperative. I also find myself yelling at them a lot. Which, isn't something that I do frequently. The other issue currently is that Chris is in Texas, again. So, I don't have him here to take any parenting responsibility with them. Its fantastic really. I feel like I need to apologize constantly for being so upset and easily rattled. At this rate, its going to be a long summer.

On another note, mom is here. She suddenly lost her job last week. She walked in, worked half a day and then they pulled her into an office and told her that her position was being dissolved. They asked for her keys, her credit cards, and escorted her from the building. No warning. No nothing. They did offer her a severance package. Its not great, but it will help. In the meantime, I flew her out here and have no intentions of letting her go back there to live. I offered help to move her out of her apartment to either Nashville (with my sisters) or here. She did bring along her resume and interestingly enough, we found a PERFECT position for her at the local hospital last night. She is sitting in the other room right now updating her resume and I hope to have her applying for positions by the end of the night. She has no one in Indiana anymore and losing her job was just the kick in the butt me and my sisters have been waiting for to make her realize that fact. We'll see how this goes...

So, I've been killing myself at the gym. For the past two weeks- I've missed three days. My body aches from sore muscles but I'm finally starting to notice some change on my running time/pace. Also, even though the scale hasn't been completely reflective of my workouts and diet- my clothes are fitting better/more comfortably. My next race is just a 5k in mid August. Then, I'm not sure what I'm going to do from August until November. However, in November... I'm registering for the Philly half marathon. I made my decision a few days ago and I'm working hard training for this race. I will be ready.

Beating myself up...

I've spent 7 of the last 8 days... working out... hard. Every muscle in my body aches. I'm constantly reminded of the abuse to my body with every step and movement I make. Its especially irritating with involuntary movements. So, I decided to take today off. I definitely needed a break. My feet are covered in blisters from the many many miles I've run this week and my shoulders feel as though I could collapse from just the slightest of weights. Regardless of my discomfort, I feel good. I've spent the many hours in the gym this week thinking. If I found my thoughts to be too disheartening- I added more for my body to do. I've pushed myself harder than I ever have and I'm impressed that I could take it. I realize that for anything to be valued- work has to be done to give it value. Its a slow process... but its something that only I can do. I feel the drive in me coming back. I'm excited and motivated and I'm going to keep going. I'm going to do a half marathon in the fall. I can't decide between three locations- each being in its own merit- a good run. My choices are down to Baltimore, Richmond, Va, or Philadelphia, Pa. - I'm giving myself until mid July to make a decision because by the end of July I'll be full force in training for the race I choose. Chris says I'll never do it. I'm going to prove him wrong.

Snap out of it...

I feel like I need someone to smack me really hard and just say "snap out of it." Out of what? Well, I'm not really sure. I've realized lately (by my husband's own admission) that he isn't sure who I am anymore. Truth is: I'm not so sure myself. I remember a time when I was a little more pleasant to be around. Back then, I enjoyed the party... enjoyed even more HOSTING the party. Now, I run away from the party. If I could figure out a way to be by myself... I'd jump on it. However, I am the mother to four and the wife to one and the friend to many. Not sure how good a friend I am anymore... actually, probably pretty crappy. But, I've have the few that I hold tight to and hope that they don't give up on me like the others have. I've spent what is going on three years in a fog. Some days, weeks, months were better than others. But definitely had periods of time when I'd rather run away and never come back. I've given up on the 'fake.' The facade that we all play to cover our reputation for others. I don't care. Many talk, few do anything but talk. The image of the person looking back at me in the mirror is becoming more familiar but its not the person I once was. When Chris and I were in college... when I was young and naive (he says I was NEVER naive) and had the whole world figured out... that girl looked a lot different. We have the same eye color- but my eyes are now just a bit darker. They aren't so welcoming anymore either. They're still a mix of two warm colors... a unique quality found in few. But, they're guarded and untrusting. I'm not sure when that happened. Was it an overnight experience? Probably not. Regardless, they've changed. Some days I feel bad for Chris. The woman I am today is certainly not the girl he married. Once optimistic, now realistic with a side of pessimism. Once driven, now angry. Once carefree and playful, now unamused and weighed down with life. I told him recently that I don't understand how we've gone through many of the same experiences in the past 5 years of our marriage and yet he seems unbothered by it all. I realized that I internalize everything. I may not blow up about it immediately. I may seem to let it go to some degree. But the truth of the matter is... whether or not I talk about it... its still there. He, on the other hand, truly lets it go. I don't understand that. Maybe if I did... things would be better rather than worse. I guess I'm contemplating this all because once again the reminder that life is short has come back up. In the course of the past week, two friends from high school/college have suddenly passed. And my sister is facing a major change in her health as well. I'm just tired. I want to live life like there is no tomorrow. I want to bask in a beautiful starry sky sipping a glass of wine. I want to smell honeysuckles and taste them again like its the first time. I want to wake up in the morning and love my life. When does that happen again?

Chivalry versus Feminism

I was at a public building today. As I was walking out there was a man walking in. If I had to guess, I'd say he was my age or a little younger. As he hurried through the doors- as I waited... he opened the door just enough for himself to get in and walked past me. I found myself agitated. He seemed like a real ass. Why? I realized that I am used to a door being held for me. And it was surprising how I reacted when a man didn't show that courtesy. I'm a southern girl at heart. I spent my adolescence in a little town called Thomasville, North Carolina. Down there, boys are raised to be respectful men. You hold the door open, you allow the woman to go first, and you pay. I know that in an effort for women to be seen 'equal' to men some women have expressed their disinterest in doors being held for them, in waiting and going second, and in paying their own way. These women are caught up in proving they can do what men do... and maybe they can. However, for me, call it what you will: I appreciate it when the door is held open for me. I appreciate it and I say thank you. I don't see it as an inequality type of issue. I see it as a small gesture of respect. I'm even further impressed when a car door is opened. Silly? Maybe. But, I want to teach my son to open the doors, and wait on the women in his life, and to pay when he asks her out... or when she asks him out. ;-)

As I was talking to Chris last night, we discussed how we can get back on the 'healthy wagon.' It struck me that I got an "A" in my nutrition class this semester... I KNOW the right things to do and I know what we are doing wrong. The real test isn't in KNOWING the right things... its in doing them. This point is true in most areas of life. Just with being 'healthy'.... sometimes the right thing is the harder thing. I tend to want to take the easy route... but then I'm unsatisfied with the road I'm traveling. You could say there is a lesson here in contentment. However, isn't discontentment what propels us (in general) toward change? Isn't it when we become indifferent and complacent that we find ourselves gaining weight and getting flabby? This is obviously just an example but I think its an appropriate one. Somehow there has to be an even ground between healthy and fat. Driven and complacent. I think they call it depression. I don't really want to be in the middle... I want to be driven. But, I can't make myself. I want to make the right decision, even though it hurts sometimes. But, I make the wrong decision. Its not just enough to know. Action has to come from knowledge or else knowledge is void.

Restlessness and bummed...

I've found that one of the hardest things as a mother is to find good medical care. Its interesting that in an area that has such medical resources that it has taken me years to find some of the doctors that I trust my children to. I've found that all doctors are not created equal and some of the ones backed by the best hospitals in the country... are still... well, subpar at times. In a whirlwind yesterday, I found out that my little one's pediatrician is moving to Florida. It is a family decision and one that he had to make. However, it took me six months to find him and we've only been with him for a little over a year. Bummed is an understatement. I've found that he was attentive and persistent in the same token. I left his office yesterday very sad... we'll miss him... but now... I have to find someone that I trust again with the special needs of my youngest. This is NOT an easy task.

On a similar spectrum, my third child yesterday made an emergency visit to her pediatrician (who is different than the one above) due to being sent home from school wheezing. I spent several hours last night between sitting in this pediatrician's office and TRYING to understand her methods and then in xray, the pharmacy, and then again home contemplating. I think the bottom line is: when it comes to your kids... you want to keep them safe and protected. In doing that, you need to have a doctor that you trust. A doctor that you can call and not feel like you are bothering them or that they have "figured it all out" and who gives generic answers to complex questions. I realized yesterday, as the doctor told me she couldn't order a particular treatment because "your insurance won't pay for it" that we are in for BIG trouble. Since when does treatment depend on the money that an insurance company will or will not spend. I felt sick to my stomach. My six year lay there with dark circles under her eyes, blue tint to her mouth, and wheezing between gasping for breath (that I was advised was probably behavioral) and there was not a damn thing I could do. I kept a close eye on her last night, I talked to her school nurse today, and I'm keeping her home from a class field trip on Thursday due to the conditions outdoors. In the meantime, I hope and pray that she gets better and not worse. I'm nauseated by the whole thing.

School is officially out in 5 days. Its crazy to think that we've made it through an entire school year... our first in public school. All of the kids have done exceptionally well and I'm proud of them all. However, I'm also looking forward to not having to get up quite so early. Looking forward to summer vacation and spending lazy days at the swimming pool working on our tans. This is the last summer before my oldest starts middle school. I'm NOT ready for this transition. But, ready or not, here it comes...

Running running running...

I spent my morning today on the trail. 4.4 miles I ran/walked/pushed a jogging stroller with a toddler in it. I spent my night last night NOT sleeping. Not sure the source of the lack of sleep... other than maybe I couldn't breath due to allergies and sinus woes. However, when I got out of bed this morning I was exhausted. In case you didn't know, not a good start for a woman who runs around the way I do. Honestly, when I woke up this morning at 6am and then again at 6:15 and then again at 6:30... I should've just gotten up and gone for the run alone. BUT, I didn't. Instead, I waited for the morning to heat up and my daughter to be cranky to attempt the trail w/the stupid stroller. Now I find myself in a difficult situation... do I take a nap or do I bust out some housework. I know what the hubby would vote for. :-/

I posted a link to a photo from my facebook from the New Year's Resolution Run in Nashville, TN. It was a 5k- but, it should be noted that Nashville is VERY hilly- so the run was pretty intense with hills. I was ambitious with this one... signed myself and my husband (on the right) and my brother in law (on the left) up thinking maybe it would limit the 'fun' we have on New Year's Eve. I can tell you, that morning was one of the worst mornings I've ever had. Ironically enough, we found out on New Year's Eve that my dad had flown to Vegas and married a woman he had only known for about 3 weeks (and met on the internet). Not a good night... and alcohol was too easy a way to drown our sorrows. The men in the family kept their heads on (although, it was me and my sister's- whose father had just made an ENORMOUS mistake). I'd like to mention that he and mom had only been divorced for about 3 months when he made this decision. Anyway... I wanted to do this run... because it was a new year. HOPING that this year would be better than the last. I can say now, at least we did it. However, I realized this morning that its the only race I've done this year. SO... its time to lace the shoes back up and get the miles clocked. I'm signed up for a vineyard run in August and looking into a run for July. I plan to retrain through the summer- and the Baltimore Half Marathon is my fall goal. I've said this for a year now... and actually signed up for a Half in VA beach and wasn't prepared to run it. So... its go time. Maybe it will help me sleep too :-).

What little control I have...

I cut my hair. Well, I had my hair cut. I realized last week as I was sitting there and my 'hair girl' was cutting inches and inches off my head that I tend to do this in the midst of hard times. I guess everyone gets to a point where they NEED change... or for women, specifically, you kind of just get sick of the look you have. However, for me, I think I do it as a method of control. My hair is one of the VERY few things I have total control over. Long, short, colored, not, up, down, straight (kind of), curly. So, on day two of the trial last week, I came home and called my girl and she came over and cut it off. Not too short- chin length... but I didn't tell anyone... or ask anyone. I didn't prepare anyone for what I was doing. I just, on a whim, got it cut. For me, I guess its an outlet. Of course, its a limited outlet. However, it works. I instantly felt better. I don't regret doing it. And I like how it looks. WIN/WIN/WIN. Chris, on the other hand, different story.

Court last week... if I had ONE word to sum it up: conflicted. I sat on the witness stand undergoing questioning from three different attorneys. I was told that I remained articulate and did well. It didn't feel like that sitting up there. I can say that I did my best and I believe that I accurately represented my child, her needs, and her as a part of my family. I went home every evening completely drained. Vulnerability and frustration have remained my 'life' for years now. I'm really looking forward to the day that my emotions come back off my sleeves and my thoughts become as concrete as the drive for my children is. I don't know if that will ever happen again... but I certainly do hope.

I've spent a lot of time (compared to usual) thinking back through mom and dad's divorce this past week, too. And in the light of control... the fact that the longer you share a relationship with someone (regardless of the quality of that relationship) the harder it is to break ties. My parents divorce will be a year old in a few months. It is still hard for me to disassociate them, at times. But, nearly a year later, I've realized that neither of them has REALLY moved on. Dad tried, I guess... but of course, thats a deep well of analyzing. I think, for me, it just shows that regardless of the health or unhealthiness of the relationships we allow in our lives... change sometimes seems impossible.