Category: Biking

Practicing gratitude

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I asked Maria and Mario what they were grateful for while we ate dinner tonight. 

Holding the baby chicks at the farm

Maria: eggs (she had just brought some back from Grandma Meg’s and Peepaw’s farm); little grapes (we had found “baby” sized grapes in the bunch of grapes earlier in the evening); and her grandmas (all three of them!).

Mario: for a wonderful night; mom and dad and Ria and Cy (“I miss him, mom”); my grandmas; and the farm. 

Mom: for the bike ride and for 62 degree weather and for our new home.

I try to ask this question every night in order to reinforce how important it is to recognize all the wonderful people and things around us.  As part of my training to be a culture shaping facilitator at the university, we performed an exercise around gratitude.  We were asked to think about how many times through the day we stressed about something or we wallowed in self-pity because we did not have something or we missed someone or we failed to get something done.  Then we were asked to think about all that we did have – be it a home, significant other, health, car to travel in, clothes, friends, etc.  Most of us realized that when all was said and done a great majority of our life was good.  We had a roof over our head, we were able to travel, we had family who loved us, we had a pet who licked us, we fed ourselves three meals a day (if not more); yet, we realized that we tended to focus  a significant amount of our time and energy on the negative things or people in our lives. 

Hence, the idea of practicing gratitude.  Ever since that training, I have consciously made an effort to push myself to be grateful, especially during the times I see myself heading downhill.  And I figure if I can start M&M praciticing it, they will be experts by age 10. 

And it’s not that hard.  Each day, I find myself tripping over a wealth of things and activities and people for which to be grateful.  Tonight, I was grateful for the chilly fall weather that allowed us to throw on our sweatshirts and bike helmets and take a ride to visit our friends.  I love watching M&M head out on their cycles, laughing and talking the entire way to the destination.  Maria sings songs to herself.  Mario points out each animal and flower he sees on the way.  I love seeing the grin on Maria’s face as she turns a corner all by herself and the excitement in Mario’s voice when he spots a squirrel behind a bush.  I try to allow myself to see the world anew like M&M.  When Mario points to the squirrel, I look at the little critter and wonder if he will find a nut, what tree he will choose to climb, how many brothers and sisters he has at home.  When Maria turns that corner, I remember back to riding my back with Beth Ann, my grade school friend, and how thrilling it was to speed up and down our alley. 

M&M keep me practicing gratitude.  It is hard not to practice it when I have them by my side.  Hopefully, our evening ritual will become embodied in them to where they hit the pillow at night and think about all they have to be grateful for in the day that is about to pass under them.  The stars, the night, a warm blanket, sweet dreams….

Morning Bliss

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My muchos and me

I thought it would be pouring down rain this morning based on the local meteorologist’s report last night.  I should have known better – how often are they correct!?  I didn’t get to bed until midnight, too, and anymore, I need at least 7 hours of sleep to function properly.  Those two facts combined led me to sleep in until 7:30 with Maria pressed against my back side, hand over my head and Mario pressed against my front side, his warm breath intertwining with mine.  I could have laid there until noon.

The munchballs when they were just babies!

But alas, work and school calls and we must eventually listen.  I smothered them both with kisses and whispered “Do you want to know a secret?”  They know my secrets by now so Maria said “Let me guess, you love us to the moon?”  I laughed and said “No, I do love you to the moon but that’s not my secret.”  Maria cocked her head to the side and said “I know.  You think we are the cutest, sweetest kids.”  That was my secret but I would not admit it.  Maria looked at me funny and said “Oh, I really know now.  You love us so much you could eat us for dinner!”  I proceeded to nibble on both of their arms and they squirmed and giggled.  Then, content with my feed, I took a shower. 

Maria and I strolled to school because it was so pleasant outside.  She talked about how her friends teased her about her name “Menkedick” and how two girlfriends always talked about being “BFFs” and she was not a part of it.  I try so hard to reinforce the craziness of girlhood.  How girls just form cliques without even thinking about it.  How girls can be cruel to try to fit in with someone they think may be cool.  How she needs to just learn to be self-sufficient and not care about what others think about her.  It seems to be working in some way because she doesn’t come home crying and upset like she used to in Kindergarten.  And I can sense an err of confidence when she heads to the school door and other girls don’t run up to her to say “hi.”  She is ok with it and continues on her way.  I like that she talks to me about these concerns and feelings.  I hope it continues eight years from now. 

 

Mario last year with his deranged mom!

When I arrived home from dropping off Maria, Mario watched me from the front window.  I loved the sight of him but knew that it would not be pretty when I walked in the house.  Jon would be aggravated at him for taking so long to get ready and leave the house.  I have it easy with Maria – I drop her off at 8:20 and am done.  Mario takes quite some time, especially if you try to be patient and let him get dressed at his own pace.  So Jon has been getting into work at 9:30.  I could sense his frustration, and like any good team, I agreed to take Mario into school so he could get to work at a decent hour.  Mario begged to watch a show and I still had to get dressed in work clothes.  I let him watch Dino Dan.  He looked at me as I put it on and said “I thought you’d like Dino Dan, mom, because it’s not a killing show.”  Lovely. 

After Dino Dan, I turned off the tv and told him we were taking the bike to school.  He did not have a major meltdown, which was the most wonderful gift he could have given to me.  We hopped on the bike and headed toward the river.  I asked him if he thought we would see “his bird” (a heron) and he opined on whether the river would be too high or it would be too cold this morning or whether his bird had already died.  As he was discussing these thoughts with me, he quickly pointed to my right and yelled “look, mom!”  I looked and did not see anything.  “I just saw a red woodpecker in that tree!”  “Really?” I exclaimed.  He was sure of it.  Definitely a red woodpecker.  Pee-paw would be impressed, he thought. 

We finally arrived at the river, which was high.  I took a look down each bank and did not see any birds.  I told Mario that the river must be too high for them and he sighed.  But then again, out of nowhere he pointed to my left and yelled “My bird!”  I stopped the bike and backtracked to the area confident that his bird was no where in sight.  But, to my surprise, his bird stood on a giant grey rock, still as a palace guard.  Mario and I stared in amazement at his poise.  He must have heard a faint noise from us and without warning, shot off the rock into the air and onto the opposing bank.  He made a screeching pre-historic scream when he shot off the rock, which caused Mario and I to turn to one another in further amazement.  We remained silent as we headed up the trail to school.  Finally Mario broke the silence by stating:

“The bird we saw mom, was a blue pterodactyl.”  “Are you serious, Mario?” I replied.  “Yes, mom, we saw a blue pterodactyl.  I am sure of it.  I saw a blue pterodactyl and a red woodpecker this morning.  I can’t believe it.” 

Heck, maybe he did see a red woodpecker.

Morning bliss….

Riding into the Sunset

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I had just parked my bike at Giant Eagle and was beginning a short walk around the block to call my friend who needed to talk to me about her irritating boss.  I had a couple of minutes before I had to relieve Megan, our sitter.  As I looked down at my phone to dial my friend’s number, a text message popped up from Megan. 

“She’s riding!” is all it said with a video attached. 

Maria on her princess bike at age 4

I opened it up with much anticipation, and there she was.  My 6 year-old girl on her new two-wheel, no training wheels bike gingerly riding up our street.  Without hesitation, the tears formed in my eyes and began to fall.  Memories flooded my mind… Maria as a newborn in her bouncy seat sleeping in the sun; Maria at age 1 holding on to the edge of the sofa as she felt those chunky gorgeous thighs moving across the floor;  Maria at age 2 clinging on to me as people tried to hold her; Maria at age 3 eating spaghetti and meatballs with a full red-sauced face; Maria at age 4 playing dress-up with her pre-school friends; Maria at age 5 entering kindergarten and already seeming so grown up. 

And now look at her – she is practically an adult riding that bike so well down the street.  It all started late last week when she got an invitation from her friend, Riley to attend her birthday party at a local park.  The picture on the birthday card showed Riley riding a two-wheeled bike.  The invitation stated “Come ride your bike with Riley around the park!”  Maria looked down at the floor and walked away as I read the invite. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked her.

“I can’t ride a two-wheeled bike, mom.  They will make fun of me if I have a bike with training wheels.”

Maria and Megan

I explained to her that she is good at lots of things and although some friends may be able to ride a two-wheeled bike, they can’t do certain things as well as she is able do them.  Everyone has their strengths and their challenges.  Biking on a two-wheeled bike was her challenge at this time.  She seemed to get it and started to name things that she did well – rock climbing, taking care of babies, artwork.  She had tried to ride her friend’s bike a few weeks ago and it was a challenge to say the least.  She just did not seem to have that innate ability to balance.  I had read in the magazines about starting your child off on a bike with no wheels so they have to balance back and forth as they go down the sidewalk but Maria has had her training wheel princess bike since the age of 3 and has always done great with it so we never rocked the boat with a no pedal bike. 

Another factor is that my baby girl is not naturally athletic.  She struggles to hit the baseball or strike a golf ball or hop on one leg and then the next.  I worried that she would not easily pick up the skill of riding a two-wheeled bike because of that fact.  But what Maria lacks in natural athleticism, she makes up for in will.  She tries anything (i.e., scaling a hand-made boulder at the summer festival and ringing the bell at the top) and she continues to try even if she fails the first time (it took her a few tries to get to the top of the boulder and ring that bell).  As much as her strong-willed personality can get on my nerves (i.e., refusing to brush her hair), I thank the stars for it. 

I scoped out bikes on Tuesday morning at the local used goods store and found a 20 inch one.  We had tried that size before and found that it was just a tad bit too big for her.  Her 16 inch bike, however, is way too small for her (her poor knees stick out on both sides like ears).  We really need an 18 inch bike but they are hard to find.  I wanted Maria to try the bike out before I bought it so I asked our insanely awesome babysitter, Megan, to take her down to the used goods store after school and buy it if she looked like she could at least begin to try to ride it.  Of course Maria liked it (I knew she would – it could have been black and had skulls all over it and she would have liked it because it was something new).  Mario also found a bike that was red with black flames.  He needed a bike, too and his was half off so I approved for Megan to buy them both. 

I texted Megan later that afternoon and kiddingly asked “Is Maria riding on her own yet?”  Megan texted back “Haha, she is trying….”  Two days later, here she is riding on her own.  She still needs help starting up because the bike is too big for her to swing her foot over and start to peddle.  She also continues to work on braking and dismounting.  She frequently stops pedaling and takes a leap off the bike into the grass but if she concentrates enough, she can brake and then get her leg over the bike quick enough to have a fairly graceful dismount.  I am amazed at her progress.  I can’t imagine what I will be like when she wins the Science Fair or places in the swim meet or gets an A+ on an English essay. 

Thank you for the gift you gave me tonight, Maria.  You are one strong, willful girl and you rock it out.  Your mama is so proud.

Pelotonia

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I biked in my second Pelotonia ride today.  Last year I biked 102 miles.  This year I wimped out and only did the 43 mile route.  With everything going on with the house showings, Maria’s recent back to school tirade, and the lack of free weekends we have over the next four weeks, I thought it was best to call it a day at 11:30 versus 3:00 (43 miles versus 102).  I woke up this morning officially at 5:25 am but I had been tossing and turning with Jon all night because of two little monsters that kept getting in bed with us.  And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, Mario coughed in my ear half the night.  By 5:25 am, I was ready to hop out of bed.  I threw on my running gear and headed out listening to BBC.  I haven’t gone out in the pitch black like that since the Winter time when it stays dark late until 8 am.  It was a little freaky.  At one point, a truck pulled up behind me on a side street and followed me two blocks until he finally pulled in a driveway.  I kept picturing myself getting jumped and thrown in the back of the truck and killed with M&M never seeing their mama again (way too many horror flicks when I was 10 years old).  I ran about 5 miles and came back to throw on my biking gear and to head to the Pelotonia event.  The madhouse was in full effect when I arrived – over 4000 riders ready to take off down Olentangy River Road.

My gal colleagues

The event is for a worthy cause – the fight to end cancer.  It is a sight to behold the thousands of people gathered together with bike helmets on and bikes a tow.  I am used to runners.  Runners are less glossy and more rugged.  They are out on the road striking the pavement for hours in a pair of shorts and tank top and running shoes.  Bikers are more polished and tidy.  They are decked out in their shiny lycra and spandex shirts and shorts with five pockets all over them for water bottles and bananas and fruit bars.  They wear their tiny clip-in shoes and sparkling helmets.  Now, I admit to some generalization because I have met some high rolling runners in my time (still remember the one with matching asics tank top and running shorts (not even long enough to cover his entire buttocks) and bright-colored running shoes and waist belt with gel shots).  But bikers seem to be overall a little bit more glamorous and high-maintenance than runners.  You could tell the hard-core bikers; they had scuffed up bikes and used water bottles.  Helmets that had been scraped up and tight calves.  You could tell the newbies; they had their shiny new bikes with bright-colored water bottles.  Helmets that beamed at you and clipped shoes they were trying to force into the clips without falling.  But no matter expert or novice, everyone came together on this day to ride for one cause – to beat cancer – and that makes the event so inspiring.  You don’t bike for more than a mile or two without bystanders cheering for you and thanking you for riding in the event.  Signs hang everywhere thanking you for riding for someone’s mom or brother or friend.  It is humbling. 

What was even more of a treat this year was that I had my babes waiting for me at the finish line cheering me on as I rounded the corner from the side road.  Jon was standing over them waving at me (my ultimate cheerleader who roots me on for these events all the time) and they jumped up and down yelling “Go Mom!”  When I got off my bike to hug them, Maria immediately asked “Are you sweaty?”  When I told her yes, she let me know she would hug me later.  I took them to the food and drink tent and we ate chips and oranges.  Maria wanted a pb&j sandwich so bad but I refused to allow her to tak a sandwich from one of the bikers who would need it.  “But mom, I am starving!”  This is after a burrito and a donut an hour earlier.  She is my girl. 

We drove back home and decided to hit the library and Maggie’s new apartment for a tour.  Mario thought we would definitely take the car since I rode 43 miles.  Maria knew better: “Mario, you know mom is not going to waste energy; besides she is not even tired.”  Mario looked at me and nodded knowing his fate would be the stroller and not the car watching movies.  I made it up to him at the library though.  He got three DVDs of Spiderman, Looney Tunes, and Tom & Jerry.

127 Hours

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Maria and Mario post-mulching (Mario was proud of his dirty face and hands!

I had both kids in bed by 9:50 on Thursday night.  Amazing, and quite early for Mr. Mario who typically refuses to go to bed unless I lay down with him (especially when Jon is out of town).  I had to shower in the evening due to fingernails filled with dirt and mulch in my hair.  The kids and I hit up the flower store earlier and bought 10 bags of mulch – we got through 4 of them before the kids were ready to move on to better things, namely, dinner for Maria and basketball for Mario.  While I was soaking in the shower, Mario fell asleep in my bed (and Maria hit the hay as soon as her head fell on her pillow).  What a gift of time! 

Maria biking and Mario running

I think the mulching and the run up the street to the pizza store helped wear the boy out. Lately, Maria has been all about her bike and Mario has been all about walking/running.  He can make it a mile without stopping to take a breath or rest.  He has got his mom’s lungs.  Maria keeps us truckin’ because she zooms on her bike – the same bike she has had since she was three with training wheels wobbling, rust growing and princess stickers falling off.  I think a new bike may be in order for her 6th b-day.

Back to my evening.  I got downstairs at 10:15, cleaned up the living room and kitchen, and flipped through the movies on pay-per-view.  One of my favorite past times is hitting up the movie theatre with popcorn and pop in tow (and usually a box of whoopers or goobers).  Since I could not leave the children alone (oh, how tempting!), I had to be content with the tv, chips and dip, and a diet 7Up.  I flipped through the new releases and it came down to Black Swan and 127 Hours.   My brother gave 127 Hours rave reviews and it was only one and a half hours long.  It won. 

I’d give it a 5 out of 10.  It kept my interest for the most part but there were times in it that I grew impatient watching James Franco make videos of himself.  I know the director wanted the audience to get as accurate and real a picture of this climber being stuck in this crevice – his arm wedged into the rock by another rock – but I thought it dragged out a little too long.  However, Franco did an excellent job recreating the absolute horror and intensity of cutting off his arm.  The detail of that scene itself sticks to my bones.  The ending failed to meet my expectations, too.  I didn’t feel an ultimate connection with Franco at the end, which is something I look forward to in watching a movie (Annette Benning wowed me in The Kids Are Alright).  

There was one scene right before Franco cut off his arm where Franco was beginning to give up and he had a vision of himself with his future son.  That part struck me because I remembered back when I had a minor health scare.  There were about two weeks where I waited to hear back from my doctor.  Maria and Mario were both born, and the only thing that kept me up at night was the thought of leaving them at such a young age and not being able to watch them grow.  When I was pregnant with Maria, I still remember thinking that I could never love her as much as I loved our pup, Cy.  Sad but true (and it did take about 3 months to love her as much because she was such a fussy baby)!  But now I cannot imagine not being a part of their lives and the amount of love that I have for them feels limitless.

Maria and Mario in a loving state before school!

The next morning I paid for my “crazy movie night” when Maria and Mario woke me up at 6:45 am.  I felt like I had slept 2 hours.  It reaffirmed the fact that I need to go to bed by 10:30.  The kids knew I was tired and took care of me by getting dressed in a reasonable amount of time and walking the entire way to school.  When we arrived, Maria began to pout and complain that she did not want to be in school.  She did not want me to leave.  She has been getting like this lately, especially on the weeks that Jon is gone.  I hugged her and told her that she would have a great day, and without prompting, Mario also hugged and her and said “Don’t worry, Ri, school will be fun and I will play with you this afternoon.”  She planted a long, hard smooch on his cheek, and we walked home. 

I told Mario I was proud of him for helping out his sister, and he looked at me and replied “I love my sissy.”  Watching their relationship continue to grow is a gift for Jon and I.  Jon returned that night, and the kids were ecstatic to see him walk through the door. Echos of “DADDY” still ring through my head.  Later that evening, Jon and I relaxed in our normal fashion – Jon with some tv and me with my computer, and I was fast asleep by 10:30.

Mini me and Spazo

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Mario running with Maria in the stroller shouting commands!

Maria and Mario agreed to a walk two evenings ago but we got in the stroller and remembered that the front tire burst during our library trip last Sunday when we put Maria on the foot rest of the stroller to make room for her friend and Mario to sit in the stroller seats.  The stroller tire lasted almost a half of a mile before it succumbed to the pressure from above.  When I told the kids the stroller was out of commission, Mario went straight for his bike.  Maria went straight to my arms. 

When that idea was shot down, she begged for the one-person stroller. 

“Maria, why don’t you walk?” 

“Because I am tired, mom, and I haven’t been in this stroller in a long time. It will remind you of when I was just a baby.” 

She is smooth.  She knows that I weep and get mushy about places, pictures, things that take me back to her or her brother being tiny.  I helped Mario with clasping his Spiderman helmet (he still remembers the time that Pee-paw accidentally pinched his skin in the helmet and winces each time I put it on him) and gave him an initial push down the sidewalk.  By that time, I looked behind me and there was “take-charge” Maria who had gotten the stroller off the porch and situated herself in it.  She gives me the sly Maria smile and shouts “Let’s go, Mom! Love you!” 

Mario riskin' it by petting a rat.

When we looked up, Mario was almost to the end of our block.  He has not yet learned to make complete stops at intersections so I yelled for him to stop.  He didn’t.  That is when Maria Grace took charge.  She jumped out of the stroller and darted towards the intersection yelling “Mario Joseph, stop!”  When she caught up with him (after the intersection where he did glance back and forth for a millisecond), she ripped him up. 

“Mario Joseph, you need to listen to your mom and your sissy if you are going to be allowed to ride your bike alone.  You scared us and we do not like that. Next time you do that we are going to stop the ride and go home.”

And there you have it.  My girl taking charge.  The scary thing is that she sounded just like me.  She has listened to me too well. Mario listened to her entire speech and followed it up with a sticking out of his tongue and a taunt (similar to what he does to his mama).  Maria galres at him and scolds “that is inappropriate behavior, Mario.”  Words right from her mama’s mouth.  I intercede between the two but basically reiterate everything mini-me has said to him. 

Maria and her loud voice (like her mama!)

When we arrive at Panera, Mario parks his bike perfectly against the bike stand, asks me to help take off his helmet, and rests it on the handlebar.  He smooths down his hair that got messed up by his helmet, and heads towards the door.  He has to open it for us, which he is able to do after two minutes of extraneous pushing and me slipping my hand up top to give it a nudge (if he had seen me, it would have been chaos!).  When we walk in, he turns to us and flexes his arms muscles.  “I am strong and have lots of muscles!”  Maria gives him a shout out: “Yes, Mario, you are the strongest!” 

After retrieving water and saying hi to a few older guests (Maria asks if I am proud of her for saying hi to them since I tell her how good it makes people feel to see a little girl smile at them and say hi), we head back out for the ride home.  There are two girls sitting outside, and Mario walks by, looks at me, and whispers “Look at those hot girls.”  Heaven help me.  Who teaches him these things?  Maria rolls her eyes at me but then eggs Mario on by whispering “say hi to them, Mario”  Yeah, I think I have a clue on who is his teacher….

The twosome waiting for Spring to come...

Mario mounts his bike and takes off past Jeni’s and Stauf’s reciting “I am cool” the entire way.  Maria follows him closely making sure that he is not getting too far from us.  He stops at the light and both of them look down to see a tiny purple flower blossoming from the crack of the sidewalk.

“Mom” they both chime. 

“What?”

“Look at the beautiful flower.  That is a sign of Spring.” Maria states.

Mario adds: “The sun helped it bloom.” 

“Indeed, it did, Mario.”

Come on 40 – bring it on!

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Ri singing me happy birthday!

Really, did November 5 come again this year?  Maybe we skipped over the 5th straight to the 6th?  No, I feel one year away from 40 – November 5 hit for sure.  The legs are tight when I wake up, the knees creak a bit when I stand, I have to adjust my eyes for a few minutes to focus, and by the time the sun rises, I would have gone to the bathroom at least twice.  Ugh.

Riding in the Pelotonia

But I also have an incredible cadre of friends, two crazy spastic kids, one hilarious hubby, a heckuva cool family and good health.  Speaking of health, my birthday day started off with a long run and morning at the gym to lift weights (yeah, my hubby can think of about 1000 different activities that he would rather engage in on his birthday morning!).  I came home to a kiss from my girl even though I was sweaty (typically she makes me shower before coming near me) and a “hello” from my boy who did not change his position of refusing to touch me before I showered. 

I walked Maria to school (riding her almost the entire way on my shoulders since we were running late – a daily occurence).  After dropping Ri off, I headed into work to be greeted by brownies from my assistant and happy birthday greetings from my Facebook friends.  Man, you can start to get a big head when you see all of the FB birthday wishes on your birthday.  I started bragging to my young cousin about all my birthday greetings, and she quickly informed me that all people have to do is hit a button in order to get an automatic happy birthday wish to “friends” of theirs.  Ahh, well, keep me humble.   

Maria presenting me the gifts she wrapped.

I picked up Mario from school.  When I walked in his classroom, I got that gigantic Mario smile and that wonderful scream “Mama!”  When Mario and I stepped in the house, Maria was wrapping my gift with Jon.  Jon looked at me amazed.  “Do you know that your daughter is Martha Stewart? I wrapped your gift and reached down for tape and she had already tore a piece off and stuck it on her arm for me to use.” She LOVES to prepare gifts for people.  She loves cutting the wrapping paper, wrapping the gift, taping the paper, drawing designs on the paper, and presenting it.  She could not wait to give me my gifts.  She also asked Jon to buy my a card that she thought was hilarious.  It was a picture of a woman with gigantic boobs caught in metal traps on the ground.  Her husband is yelling “I told you to watch out for the booby traps!”  She sees that card with me when we are in Giant Eagle and she always takes a look at it.  I guess all along she has been secretly wanting to get it for my birthday.  Gotta love her humor.  She had Mario give me a card with a girl lifting weights since I love to workout.  She is precious.  

Sweet angel sleeping away.

We had Jon’s family over for cake and ice cream.  My favorite – sheet cake and chocolate chip ice cream.  Heaven on earth.  Everyone took off around 9 pm (including Mario who headed home with Grandma and Grandpa with no resevations – he LOVES heading north to be with them), and Maria and I played for a while.  She started to get tired around 10 and I took her up to lay with her in my bed.  I don’t think five minutes passed before we were both snoring away.  My dad came over at 10:30 after watching my brother play in his concert, but I had already passed out.  Pretty bad when your old man can party it up later than you.  But, hey, I gotta cut myself a break – my dad is a frickin’ machine. 

Ri came back into our bed at 5 am, and snuggled against me to get warm.  There are not many other things that I can think of that bring me as much comfort as my girl’s arms wrapped around me and feet warm under my side (except for Mario on my other side doing the same).  The sun rose a few hours later, and I opened my eyes to my first day at age 39.  Bring it on, baby – 40 is still a whole year away!

From Rocks to Waltzes

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One aspect of my upbringing that I most cherish is the fact that my parents gave me such a breadth of experiences and viewpoints.  My dad took inner city kids out on hikes in the Ohio forests, my mom appreciated beautiful artwork and running; my step mom harbored a passion for writing and funky music.  I am committed to providing that same breadth of experience to my kids.  

Maria and Mario debating which rocks can be thrown in the river versus taken home

Our Sunday morning began with a trip to the river to throw rocks and a jaunt to the woods to play amongst the trees and our Monday night ended with a bike ride to the dance studio to watch professional dancers waltz across the newly polished hardwood floor. 

Sunday morning is our donut morning. I pack up the kids in their pj’s and we stroll down to Tim Horton’s.  You know you eat at a place too much when all of the staff members know your name and what you want to eat.  Maria inevitably gets her rainbow sprinkled vanilla donut and Mario chows down on five chocolate timbits.  This Sunday we got a special treat.  There was a half marathon course running right past the Tim Horton’s.  We got to watch men and women run by us as we stuffed our faces with dough and sugar.  Nice. 

I told the kids about how much I relied on cheering by-standers when I ran my races.  That struck a chord in Maria and she started yelling “girls beat the boys” as the runners raced by.  Unfortunately, all of the runners passing by were men.  Mario, of course, had to point this fact out to her with the quip “he was not a girl, Maria, he was a boy.”  However, within two minutes of Mario’s statement, we saw a woman pass by and Maria chimed in again “Girls beat the boys!”  Mario got her back by shoving her and Maria got him back by kicking him.  Lovely.  Luckily, their attentions got diverted by a stray cat walking outside in the parking lot.  

After the donut shop, we drug our tired selves out to the stroller (watching those runners whooped us up (or maybe it was the massive sugar infiltration!))  and headed down the street to a bike path that led to the river.  

Maria being the good sport and watching Mario's 25th toss in the river

The little bank we stopped at is perfect for the kids.  Maria can pick up rocks to take home to our garden and Mario can throw a zillion rocks in the river.  I had yet another moment at the river where I thanked the stars above for giving me Maria first.  She is so good with her brother.  Mario must have said twenty times “Maria, look at this throw.”  Now most people would ignore Mario after two or three throws but Maria stops what she is doing, watches him, and exclaims “Cool Mario!” And even when she has no desire to watch him after the twentieth time, she will still throw a glance at him right when she needs to so Mario thinks that she is watching.  What a trooper. 

Maria deep in her massage (notice eyes closed and all!)

After collecting a handful of rocks, we left to head home.  On the way back, the kids decided they wanted to visit the trolls in the forest.  There is a little woods about a mile from our house (close to a home we thought of purchasing a few months ago and didn’t – slight regret) that is perfect for the kids.  They can run around in it and not get lost.  We can make up stories of trolls and fairies.  We can play hide and seek.  We can balance across fallen logs.  We can look for worms.  Mario collected acorns for the trip home and Maria asked about the trolls and where they sleep at night. Mario is a little more hesitant!

After all of that rock throwing and hiking, we needed a good massage.  Luckily, there was a masseuse on the streets of Grandview giving a “mini massage” to try to get business that day so Maria convinced me to take a load off and hit the masseuse up for a shoulder massage.  After I finished, Maria stood up out of the stroller and quipped “I am next!”  Of course, Mario could not resist if his sis got one.  So, there we are, the family massage on Grandview Avenue. 

When we got home, Jon had a surprise for me.  He was taking the kids to his cousin’s house for a fishing escapade so I could work and relax.  Ahh, the most wonderful gift I could ever receive on a Sunday afternoon.When I told Maria I was going to take her picture, she jumped off her bike and got in this pose!

Smiling Mario on his bike

On Monday night, the kids jumped on their bikes to ride up the street.  Mario is intrepid but when it comes to crossing the street, he becomes hesitant and cautious.  He stops ten feet back from the street, looks both ways, and then looks at me and says “I’m worried about cars, mommy.”  There could be a car five blocks down the street, and he will wait for it to pass before riding.  Maria gets exasperated with him. 

Hot times on Grandview Avenue

We finally made it to the top of the street and decided to go in the dance studio.  They sat on the couch and became mesmerized with an instructor and his student.  The two of them were doing a waltz around the studio.  The kids were in awe.  They got up every few minutes to try out a move they witnessed and then sat back down and continued watching.  We probably could have stayed until midnight – they just loved it.  When we left, I was fumbling around looking for my money, and when I looked up, the pose to the left is what I saw.  Maria reminds me of a female James Dean with her suave leaning pose.  Oh, how they make me smile!

Bike rides, Kindergarten, and temper tantrums

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Jon and I shipped Maria and Mario up to Mama Ionno’s house on Friday last week in order for us to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary.  We celebrated with Mitchell’s steak and lobster and a trip to the bike store to gather some last-minute items for my bike race on Saturday morning.  We got home at 7:30 pm and I was in bed by 9.  Poor Jon – he is such a trooper with these escapades. 

I woke up at 5:45 and got ready for the 100 mile bike race called the Pelotonia (www.pelotonia.org/ride). 

Feeling good on the mountain bike!

The Pelotonia is an annual bike race wherein riders can ride 23 miles, 43 miles, 100 miles, or 180 miles in support of cancer research.  There are respective cash goals you have to meet based on the number of miles you ride.   The 100 mile route runs from Columbus to Athens.  I got to the starting location at 6:15 am and we were off and riding at 7:30 am.  I made the crazy choice to ride my mountain bike (with at least smaller tires than the big ol’ mountain bike tires but still nowhere near the small width of road tires)  but I really didn’t hurt throughout the ride except in one ten-mile stretch from miles 82 to 92.  I had not stopped at the 75 mile rest stop because I was feeling good and I thought there was a rest stop at mile 87.  Unfortunately, there was no rest stop there 87 – it was moved to 92.  Now, you’d think that 5 miles on a bike is nothing to overcome but when you are going up and down rolling hills, have not eaten any breakfast, and have the sun beaming on you, it feels like 1000 miles.  I felt like I have felt when running a race – like time was at a complete standstill.  I finally reached the rest stop at 92 and it was like walking through the gates of heaven.  I chowed on a granola bars, fruit and pretzels.  My body rebounded and pushed me through the last 15 miles with no aches and pains.  I rode through the finish line to see Jon standing toward the side sopping wet (there was a massive downpour for my last 12 miles).  It felt great to have my supporter so close.   

When we got home, Jon pampered me (as all good hubbies should do).  We laid around and fell asleep early.  We were so excited about getting to sleep in since M&M were still with Mama Ionno.  Yet, to my demise, I twisted and turned all night.  It was as if someone kept shooting electrical waves through my body.  I was restless.  Finally, at 7:30 am, I got out of bed and decided to go for a run.  Yeah, a run.  I felt like Atalanta.  I was one with the wind – unstoppable.  It was unreal.  I could have run for 100 miles that morning.  My legs felt strong.  My lungs felt awesome.  Indescribable.

When I got home, I could have cleaned the entire house in 20 minutes.  My body was just charged up ready for the next feat.  Jon’s sole reaction consisted of these words: “You are a freak.”  This “high” lasted until Tuesday when I completely crashed and could not keep my eyes open past 9 pm.  And Wednesday and Thursday and Friday.  It was wonderful while it lasted.

Thumbs Up for K!

Fortunately, I was still on the high on Tuesday morning when Maria had her first day of Kindergarten.  We woke up at 7 am and as soon as she woke up, she popped up out of bed and exclaimed “We go to get ready, mom – NOW!” She got dressed in record time and even brushed her hair after I asked her the very first time.  I planned a big breakfast for her – waffles, cereal, eggs but her excitement would not allow her to sit down so she opted for a cereal bar instead.  We sat on the porch for what was “forever” to Ri (ten minutes) waiting for Aunt Sarah to arrive and we all walked down to K together.  

What mixed emotions that day.  Walking into her classroom and seeing all the kids at the tables, eyes glued down at their desk or up at the new teacher.  Worried, excited, scared.  Some talking with others; some keeping to themselves.  I found myself continuously asking kids that passed us what their names were and pushing Maria towards them stating “Maria, this is Joey. Maria, her name is Hailey.”  I think back to it now and I see how obnoxious that is!  Just let her move into it at her pace.  But there is that pesky mama gene that just wants it all to at least “look” easy and simple and warm and friendly.  Maria twirling around the wildflowers, laughing and loving life.  Yeah, that ain’t what school was always like for me so it will not be for her either.  She will come home sobbing one day and sad that some girl would not talk to her or some boy said something incredibly rude to her.  I did the same to my mom and stepmom and dad when I was in school.  Somehow they pulled me through and I will do the same with Ri.  But, man, it is hard to think about.  She has been sheltered for five years from all of this crazy stuff. 

He just seeps mischievousness!

Mario, on the other hand, will likely have to be peeled off the walls once he hits Kindergarten.  He is so hyper.  He climbs anything.  He runs everywhere.  He screeches.  His teacher is going to say his name way too many times during the day.  IN seriousness, he is a hyper son-of-a-gun but he also can sit still when he wants to (or is required to) and can listen.  It is just if he has the choice he would rather jump, climb, and run all around.  He turns three in a week and he has been exhibiting those lovely age three temper tantrums for the last few months.  They make you want to pack up a small bag and just go far away for a long time.  He kicks and screams and yells at the top of his lungs.  And will not stop.  I left the other morning for a run and when he awoke and I was not there, Jon said he sat on the steps screaming hysterically for 20 minutes.  Maria used to get mad by going to her room and not talking to us.  Mario will never go that route.  He knows that screaming is much more irritating and hard to ignore.  I hope when he turns three next Saturday that there will be a miraculous shift in that behavior and when he does not get his way he will look up at me and whisper “Mom, that upsets me, may we talk about it?”  Someday.