The Adventures of Truman and Fletcher- boy

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...

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....