The Adventures of Truman and Fletcher- boy

**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...

Tonight in KC a gas line exploded beneath a restaurant...plumes of smoke rose into the sky, people ran(literally) to the hospital and the media inundated us with images of the disaster.  In these moments, I want to do nothing but wrap my arms around you and protect you from everything bad in this world.  And now, while you are so little, I still can.  I can run a bath, play some Beatles, and sing and dance with you.  I can distract you with a ball while in the background nothing but blue and red lights flash on the screen.  But when am I not allowed to protect you any more?  When do I have to show you that there is sadness in this world?  As much as I want the answer to be never, I know it can't be that way.  However, what I can do, even amidst sadness, is show you that there is beauty.  In the face of tragedy and chaos, uninvolved passerbys offered their assistance and drove victims to the hospital.  People who don't know the injured li...

Friday, February 1, 2013 You let go tonight.  You let go and you walked on your own.  I realize that this is the first of many times that you will let go and venture out on your own.  And I've never been prouder of your independence. The look of awe on your face as you realized that you did this all by yourself was nothing short of amazing.  As you clapped your hands and literally applauded your effort, I cheered right along with you.  Your joy filled the room, and my cheeks ached from smiling.  Your tentative steps, turned into quick steps, turned into heaps on the floor, and all were followed by giggles and smiles.  Son, I hope that you always retain your positive spirit.  In life we try new things, we fall down, but in the end, if you can smile, you can get back up and try it again. I applaud you as you applaud yourself, and I always will. I applaud your independence, as hard as it is for me to let go ... but just like you, I'll learn....

So I haven't done a "what you're doing now" post for a while...so here you go. Christmas:  Man you loved the wrapping paper.  You would rip the tiniest pieces of paper off, look at me, squeal with joy, and then proceed to eat the paper. You really liked your spinning top, Turtle, Camelbak bottle and, of course, Christmas cookies.  Duh..you are my son after all. You have a lot to say these days.  Most of it is still a mystery to me and Dad, but best I can understand you love your Kitty and Lucy, the light and Fan and your Daddy.  You like to point and have me you tell me what you're pointing at, and you ponder everything I tell you.  Sometimes you even try to make your mouth  move in the same way that mine does. Walking...well you like to walk when holding on to things.  You'll push the kitchen chairs until you hit a barrier, walk around the coffee table and push your baby walker from one end of the house to the other.  It's scary to let...

It's been a week since I said good-bye to Skippy--The first dog I got as a "grown up".  I still look for him and at times think I hear him in the house.  When I hear Lucy's collar, I look for my little guy.  When the baby cried the other night, I thought it was Skippers.  And last night as my sweet husband snored, I awoke to look for Skippy, because I could have sworn he was whining at the end of the bed wanting to cuddle.  I guess when some"one" is a part of your life for 14+ years you don't just remove them from your life. When I was 19 years old I went to the pound and was taken in by sweet brown eyes and ears big enough to fit a great dane.  My roommate, Vanessa, and I couldn't resist the urge to fill our apartment with a four legged friend.  Minutes after we got him home we wondered what we had gotten ourselves in to.  Man that dog was crazy!  But as years, and puppy stages passed, I found myself with a steady companion.  I found ...

Tonight is the last Sunday in the first house I purchased.  I purchased this house with my dear husband nearly eight years ago, and I have loved it.  There have been things about this house that drove me bonkers, but when I reflect upon the past eight years, I reflect with fondness.  This is a house that we made a HOME.  We filled it with friends, family, love, and memories.  In a few shorts days we will close the door to this home and open a new one.  A new house that we will again make our HOME.  But for now, as I'm being nostalgic, I will reflect upon this house. And call upon my friends.. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young... "Our house, is a very, very, very fine house With two cats  dogs in the yard, life used to be so hard Now everything is easy, 'cause of you" Ok, so maybe everything isn't easy, and we have two dogs ( and a cat ), but still.. this has been a very, very, very fine house. In this house I have been brought to my knees by n...

Courtesy of Erma Bombeck... How Preemie Moms Are Chosen (Adapted from Erma Bombeck) Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen? Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger. "Beth Armstrong, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Marjorie Forrest, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia. Carrie Rutledge, twins. Patron Saint ... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity." Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a preemie." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy." "Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel." "But does she have the patience?" asks the angel. "I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. On...