The Adventures of Truman and Fletcher- boy

Wow 2013....you really brought it.  From the really good, to the really bad, this year had it all.  I really felt as if I grew as a person, a mother, a boss and a friend.  So I'll try to recap, because let's be honest, my blogging was a bit hit or miss this year. We finally caught our breath after the holidays and the big move in December.  The routine we all so desperately craved returned and life was normal, at least our version of normal.  :)  The house, which was new and different, felt perfect...felt as if it was the place we always belonged.  The kitchen found itself humming as friends sat around the island sharing stories, laughs and even a few tears.  The first nicks found their way into the floors, dust started to settle into the corners and decor crept into rooms. And even the small, warm space in bed that once belonged to Skippy started to feel less empty as each morning a snuggly toddler filled it.  Life, like our house, slowly ...

Saying good bye to a loved one is funny, not ha-ha, but interesting in that you think you've said 'good-bye' but then another experience sneaks up on you.  Another time that you requires you to say 'good-bye'. This weekend I ran the Kansas City half-marathon, a race I had planned to run with my friends Andrea and Michelle.  Instead, on Saturday, Michelle and I ran...with an empty space between us, and an empty space in our heart.  We decided that instead of running for speed, we would just enjoy ourselves while we celebrated our friend.  So with a picture of her on our backs, that is exactly what we did.  We took our time:  we kissed our babies and high fived exuberant children, we commented on the beauty all around us, and we left a flower at every mile.  We held hands as we crossed the finish line, and kneeled down to leave a final rose at the finish.  We carried her with us for 13.1 miles and embraced each other as the emotion of the day over...

We went to the Royals game tonight...and you had a blast. You clapped, waved to the players, mowed through a pretzel and made friends with everyone sitting around us.  You and Dad even made it on tv( I guess I did too, but all you could see were my fingers holding the "I'm spending my 2nd birthday at the K" sign).  All in all...a pretty solid 2nd birthday.  It started to drizzle, and you were tired so we decided to head out.  We made it as far as the edge of the parking lot before your breathing settled into deep, slumbering breaths and your eye lids fluttered with dreams.  When we got home I carried you in to the house and enjoyed every second of you snoring on my shoulder.  As I changed you in to your pajamas, and took a second to snuggle you, I couldn't help but transport myself back two years ago.  This time 2 years ago, you were 8 hours old. I had only been blessed with the chance to hold you once, but once was all it took to get me hooked.  ...

So this blog is clearly not only about my child(as I originally thought it would be), but about life--my experiences, my hopes and fears, my lessons and whatever else comes to mind.  It's about moments I want to freeze in time, and as I'll discuss later, moments I wish I could just forget.   I've sat down to write this post more than once, and it has ended, more than once, with a blank page and a closed browser.  Is it because I'm not ready to write it yet...possibly.  It is because I still don't know what to say...entirely.   I want to write about the loss of my friend, but I want it to be right.  I want to say the right things and feel the right things...but more than anything, I want the message to be right.  I don't want it to be filled with anger, which if I wrote it today would probably find its' way into my words.  While I don't think my anger is unjustified, it's also not the lasting message I want to present.  I am also at a l...

My grief is palpable, it fills up every corner of the room and is pressing on my chest. I can feel it everywhere. It's new grief so it's so overpowering its in everything I touch, everything I taste, everything I look at and every other sense I call upon. I'm not sure I have much more I can say in this moment. Numbness stopped and the post numb tingles really hurt. I love you dear friend...Godspeed

I ran my first post-Boston Marathon race on Saturday.  Corporate Challenge 2013- 5k. I toed the line, with thousands of others of my fellow athletes, in the cold, the rain.  The mic was bad.  It was hard to hear.  But we stood there, amped to run.  "Aren't they going to sing the National Anthem, especially after what happened in Boston?", asked a fellow participant.  "They do every year", I answered, "Maybe we just can't hear them.".  Boston was on all of minds, yet the only nervous energy in the air was that of runners ready to race.  We were there for a purpose, to run like we've always done.  To race until our lungs burn, fighting for any bit of oxygen they can find.  To push until our legs beg for a downhill.  So we ran. Hard. We ran, we PR'd ( or we didn't, although technically, it IS a post-Truman PR).  WE ran, and when we were done we talked about how the course wasn't as fast as we thought it would be and how the el...

**This post is kind of all over the place.  I think that's because right now I dont' have a good grasp on where I am with today's events.  But I needed to get this out...so here it is.  ** Ever since I knew what a marathon was, I've wanted to run the Boston Marathon.  I've covered 26.2 miles 8 times, but never at a speed that has allowed me to enter the "almighty Boston Marathon".  I trained a few times to be a BQ ( Boston Qualifier ), but to no avail.  Don't get my wrong, I ran some great races, but not a time that allowed me to run from Hopkinton to Boylston Ave.  Every year I watch proudly as fellow runners make the trip to Boston, cheering on the runners from start to finish (usually from a live feed on my computer), hoping  knowing that one day someone will sit in Kansas City and cheer me on.  This year was no different.  I watched women I know scorch through the course, and I was so proud.  In hindsight, I've never been prou...