Category: Running

Ahhh, Autumn

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Delicious autumn!  My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.  ~George Eliot

I knew it would be a gorgeous autumn day the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk for my morning run.  The air had the most subtle bite of chill to it – not frigid like the past few mornings and not heavy like hot summer mornings.  Perfect running weather.  The sun had been up for an hour by the time I got out to run and it greeted me with its cheerful self warming my bare legs.  I love this time of year with the beauty of the leaves, the cool temperatures, the smell of fireplaces heating homes, the cheers of people at the football game. 

Maria and Mario greeted me with a resounding “MOM!” when I opened the front door after my run.  Is there anything that makes you feel more loved than the sound of children excited to see you?  Mario grabbed two Berenstein books for me to read and we sat in his room with the blinds up and sun pouring in reading about “Too Many Commercials” and “Camping out with Ghosts.”  I love it when Mario initiates reading because he so rarely wants to do it.  He is not into anything at age 4 except super heros, wrestlers, and fighting.  I make him sit down at times and color or work in his workbook but after five minutes he is bored to death.  Other moms console me and tell me that it does get better but I have my doubts….  Maria is doing really well with her reading lately because I have made it my number one priority to make her read every night.  She is starting to see the fruits of her work when she gets a card and can read a lot of the words or sees me reading the paper and can decipher some of the headline.  Of course, I received two cards for my birthday that had the word “Bitch” in the inside of them (gotta love my friends and family!) and wouldn’t you know that she opened them and pronounced “You are a bitch!” just perfectly!  She immediately sensed that “b–” was a bad word and covered her mouth laughing.  Leave it to my girl to immediately know how to spell and sound out the cuss words.  Taking after her mom. 

After reading, we got on our sweatshirts and went outside to rake the leaves and play soccer.  Maria is so funny – she is the little worker bee as long as it is work she wants to do (never cleaning her room).  She is also the boss directing how things should get done.  As I raked, she announced that I should rake near the trash cans because that needed it more.  She then went into the garage and began moving things around to “places that they should really be.”  When I asked her to help me with bagging the leaves, she looked at the work and decided against it.  

Rather, we took a stroll to the library.  Mario begged to take a family walk so we decided that would be a good spot – four blocks away.  I was so excited to see the kids both ready to take a walk!  I was so excited that I even agreed to skip most of the way with the kids after they begged me to do it.  I felt 10 again.  We dropped Maria off at a friend’s house after the library and headed home to those dreadful leaves.  To my glee, Mario couldn’t stop helping Jon and me.  He loves that type of manual labor.  He raked and raked and raked for me.  I would sweep the raked leaves onto a tarp and we would take it down the drive to drop off the leaves at the curb and start the process again. 

“Mom, we are quite a team, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, doll, we are.”

“Are you proud of me for helping you?”

“I am so proud of you.”

Jon and I could not get over what a machine he was raking those leaves up, and kept stopping  to stare at him in complete awe.  I promised him the park after we raked the leaves – anything to stay outside on this gorgeous Autumn day.  I could just eat it up.

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.

New kicks and patience

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New kicks!

We had a showing on Wednesday night from 5 to 6:00 and 8 to 9:00 so the kids and I strolled down to the Lennox Center to buy some new school shoes (Maria has lived in flip-flops all summer).  They each found two pairs of shoes – Maria finally invested in a sweet pair of Nikes along with a pair of black and pink funky Skecher gym shoes.  She only chose those two pairs after beggin’ me for a pair of high heels that were at least three inches off the ground (obviously adult shoes).  I was tempted to buy them for her to watch her twist an ankle within two minutes of wearing them but because I am a nice mom, I just told her “no.”  

Mario fell in love with a pair of converse basketball shoes.  And a pair of Nikes.  He had to try them both on two different times in order to make sure that they looked ok and that he could run fast in them.  At one point, an older lady approached him and commented that his converse shoes were cool “tennis” shoes.  He immediately corrected her and told her “they are not tennis shoes – they are basketball shoes.”  Then he went on to tell her he was going to play basketball and football and hockey.  She smiles politely and moved on down the aisle.  Mario looked at me and rolled his eyes “She thought these were tennis shoes, mom.”

We left the shoes store and hit Bob Evans for some chocolate chip pancakes and french toast.  I could eat Bob Evans’ pancakes every meal, especially with chocolate chips in them.  Mario loves them, too but without whipped cream or syrup (freak child).  Maria has taken to french toast lately with lots of syrup and whipped cream.  She loves sausage links, too.  We sit at the bar every time and get waited on by the same young waitress who is studying to be a teacher.  She asks Maria all sorts of questions about first grade and she lets Mario flirt with her waitress friends.  She also lets me order off the kids menu so I can get a bunch of random items for $1.99 each (pancakes and bacon with grilled cheese this time). 

 

Mario in his new shoes

After Bob’s, we headed home to take showers to be clean for Maria’s first day of school.  After showers, Mario put on his new converse shoes.  He asked me to tie his shoelaces for him and all hell broke loose.  The right shoelace was not tied exactly the way the left one was tied.  Then when I re-tied the left one, it wasn’t tied just like the right.  Then the right one had too big of loops and the left had too big of a knot.  It took 20 minutes to get it right and even then he wasn’t completely happy with it.  I struggle over how far to let his compulsiveness go.  He is only three (soon to be four).  If you work with him, he eventually feels satisfied.  I feel like it is good to do that for him – to take our time and gently deal with his compulsiveness.  But then there are the days that we have to get Maria to school by 8:15 and its 8:05 and he is still trying to place the top strip of his shoe perfectly on the bottom velcro strip.  On those days, I have to finally give him one more try and then just make him leave it as is so we can get to school.  When he flips out, I can usually stay calm and explain that I gave him time to do it but we have a deadline that morning that we cannot miss.  Every once in a while, I am not that sane and I simply go into crazy mom mode and scream “Mario, we have got to go – just put on the daggone shoes and move!”  Likewise, Mario usually makes the deadlines once he knows I am serious.  Every once in a while he goes into crazy son mode and scream “Mom, these are not perfect and I will not leave this house!”  In the end, we respect each other’s mania, and let it go as part of life.  Of course, Maria always stands up for Mario and tells me “Mom, he is just a baby boy and you need to calm down.  Just calm yourself…”   And, she is right.  Mario has taught me patience – a virtue I have always struggled with since I was a child.  I like to think I am a little better because of him.

Summer Days at the Track

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Maria got to head up north to Mama Ionno’s house today with her cousin Alana.  I packed up her Barbie dolls and a pile of clothes and shipped her off with Jon this morning.  Patty once laughed about my packing style versus my sister-in-law’s style.  I just throw in a pile of shirts and shorts and undies and socks and nightie tops and bottoms into a big bulky duffel bag.  My sister-in-law packs a set of clothes for each day, nicely folded and set gently into a nice-sized canvas bag.  Oh, the world takes all types…, heh?!

Mario got to stay back with me and Jon and go to school today.  I dropped him off at daycare after taking him to get a donut at the new donut store, letting him watch a tv show, and driving him in the car to school (he begs me not to bike him – don’t know why – he won’t explain (heat?)).  I was hoping that all of those treats combined would make for a smooth transition to school.  I was wrong.  Mario cried and wailed and begged me to stay.  He promised he would be good and listen to me if I would just take him home.  Awful, horrible, devastating.  As much as I understand that he will be ok when I leave, it still kills me to hear him and see him acting so sad. 

When I picked him up at 5 pm, he was in the Muscle Room balancing on plastic rods.  He begged to stay in the Muscle Room for a while.  Of course – cries his heart out when I drop off and begs to stay when I pick up.  Nevertheless, I would much rather see that then see him miserable when I pick up.  When we got home, we played with his plastic fighter men, which consists of me holding one and letting Mario bang it with his plastic man.  I finally got Mario to agree to head to the football field with me to toss the ball.  As soon as we strolled up to the field, Mario’s mouth dropped.  He was in heaven watching two guys play soccer, a few guys and girls running on the track, a family playing frisbee. 

We tossed the football for a while but then Mario wanted to run the steps like the guys he saw doing it earlier.  We climbed the steps and watched the track runners.  Mario asked me to run so I took a run around the track, which felt really good since I had eaten a loaf of garlic bread for dinner (that time of month).  When I got back, Mario asked if he could run around all by himself.  It is one-fourth of a mile around the track.  I said “sure” knowing that he would make it around with out a problem.  Sure enough, he took off his shirt and bolted around the first half.  He slowed down a bit to a light jog and then revved it back up for the last half.  As he sprinted around to the end, I rooted him on yelling his name.  He had a huge smile on his face and i could see how proud he was of himself.  He drank some water and asked to run the stairs again.  We did, and we played Spiderman and Sandman.  We had a really good time. 

He amazes me with his athletic ability at age 3.  The boy is so fast and wiry and strong.  When he ran the last leg of the track, all I could do was picture him as a teenager running at a meet with me and Jon in the stands rooting him on like mad crazed parents.  I will be the mom with the ten buttons of him all over my shirt (and of Maria, too, who will be our world-class swimmer) bragging about how cool my kids are with other parents (who will be talking over me about how cool their kids are  so that neither of us hear each other in the end).

Running (after my sis)

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Sarah and Stella

Years ago when my younger sis (by 10 years) was in high school and deeply involved in sitting at the coffee shop with her friends philosophizing about life as she knew it at age 16, I was the workout monster in the family.  I ran, lifted weights, biked, taught aerobics.  And no one could beat me in a run.  My sis, Sarah, was known for her writing and her love of books.  One of her favorite activities was sitting in the bathtub with her favorite book and reading for two hours.  My brother loved his music, and should adore my parents for letting him spend countless hours in the basement jammin’ away on his drums and sax.  When we went on family hikes, I was the one with ten rocks in my pockets to give me an extra struggle as I climbed up a hill.

Meg and I braving the steps when we visited for Sarah's wedding

Then my sis grew up.  And as she aged, she found a love for running.  Afterall, she has the perfect runner shape – 100 pounds when wet and just tiny!  Her running has been a constant for her as she traveled to different countries and engaged with new people and new work.  I will never forget going to Oaxaca, Mexico to visit her.  She had told me about a course that she ran almost daily with her dog, Stella.  I couldn’t wait to check it out when I arrived.  The first morning after I landed, we awoke to a gorgeous 65 degree day.  She asked if I was ready to go.  ‘Of course”, I thought. 

We walked to the steps that we had to climb to get to the path that led to the trail.  I had heard rumors about these steps from Meg and my dad who had visited Sarah earlier in the year.  “Horrid” and “killer” were adjectives I remember hearing upon their return.  We ran up all of them (at least 150) to a plateau that overlooked some of Oaxaca.  “Ok”, I thought, “I can hang although my heart was beating quite fast.  We continued up a brick path to the trail.  One long hill.  When we got to the trail, I was again winded but continued to smile and assure Sarah I was ok.  Then, the trail.  Heaven help me.  Every time you thought you had reached the top, you found out it was just a short plateau with more hill up ahead.  I was sweating through every pore of my body, and my legs burned like they had been thrown in a fire pit.   

I thought “I have met my match.”

When Sar and I returned home, I laid on the bed massaging my legs and getting my breathing back to normal.  It was at that moment that I knew my reign as workout monster of the Menkedick family was, if not over, at least shared with my sis. 

Sar and I on a bus trip in Oaxaca

So, it is that realization and determination to keep up with her that led me to agree to run the Columbus Marathon with her in October.  She is already cranking out 10-15 miles with no problem.  I have been trying to run more on the mornings that Jon is home and I am able to get out.  I used to run 3-5 miles and then spend a decent amount of time lifting at the gym.  Now, I am running 6-10 and doing less lifting.  I went out this morning and took the bike course downtown and back for ten miles.  In the beginning of the run, you always feel so strong and so free – zoning out to NPR and thinking about events from the past week, what you have going on in the future (a side note – for a mom of two, this freedom and time away is crucial).  By the middle of the run, when you are farthest away from the house, you start to wonder why you went so far and your legs start to wonder with you.  By the end of the run, you just keep repeating “You can do it. You can do it. Don’ think about it anymore, just keep going.”  Then you finish.  And you have that gratification down in the deepest part of your soul that you completed what you set out to complete.  Your body feels wasted and tired but also surprisingly refreshed – you worked all of those toxins out and as spent as you are, you are also so alive.

Nonetheless, as much as I appreciate the thrill of a good, long run, that good, long run has consisted of 10 miles – not 26.  I am not so headstrong to go the 26 in October if I am hurting (my IT band has not been cooperating with me lately).  Of course, I am fully aware that because I am a Menkedick, I can talk the talk now but come race day, I will need to be completely unable to stand on my legs before I will give up. 

I will just have to depend on that little sis of mine to take care of me.

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.”

Fresh Air – Finally!

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Maria and Mario enjoying the 50 degree weather

The only good aspect of living through such cold, dreary, snowy, rainy, blustery days is that when a mildly sunny 50 degree day pokes through, it is like nirvana.   I had been trying to convince myself all week not to fall deep into the doldrums but it had not worked especially well.  I went to bed at 9:30 last night because I was tired and irritable and sick of the cold – go away old man winter!   

But then Saturday arrived like a bright pink package waiting for you on Christmas morning and I felt sparks of energy zing throughout my body.  The sun was out, and it was above 40 degrees.  I went for a run around the neighborhood.  I felt like I could go for 20 miles.  When I came home, Maria immediately begged to go on a walk – yes ma’am!  She got her homework sheet (find things outside that engage one of your five senses) and went to wait for me on the porch.  Mario, always imitating his sister, grabbed a pad of paper and pen and followed her outside (on a side note, Mario wore jeans today for the first time in probably 4 months – he had sworn off jeans and only donned sweats for all of winter (can we say George Castanza?!)) 

Enjoying their favorite tree

They walked a few houses up noticing the delicate Spring flowers blooming on the hillsides of the neighbors’ yards.  Mario did not like the white ones because they drooped downwards and looked like they were “dead.” He liked the purple ones standing at attention, sturdy, strong.  Mario is all into muscle lately whether on him (“Feel my muscles, everyone”) or on objects.  Maria reminded me that we needed to buy flower seeds and flowers to plant soon so our yard would look pretty for Spring.  She is a task master.  After looking around the street, she chose a car to describe her senses.  She saw the car, touched the car, smelled the car (she observed if it was turned on she would smell gas) and heard the car start its engine ( I tried for a flower or tree but she wanted a car). 

We headed up the street to Stauf’s for a bagel and cream cheese.  We had not hit Stauf’s together for a long time and it was refreshing to sit in the coffeehouse and relax.  And neither of my children ran around like crazy people, which thrilled me most of all.  Mario sat on my lap and Maria sat in her chair.  Is this what it is like to have well-behaved kids?  Love it. We took off down Grandview Avenue – Maria running ahead and hiding behind signs and Mario trailing behind doing the same.  Luckily, Maria is very good about stopping at every crosswalk but I still make her stop every 20 feet or so.  What is it going to be like when she is older and wants to walk alone with her girlfriends?! 

Mario soaking up the pampering

We made it past the post office, past the waterfall in the flower shop, and to the hair cutting place.  Mario stopped dead in his tracks; ran his hand through his hair, and demanded he get a haircut.  “It has been too long, mom.”  So, we headed inside.  Maria and Mario flipped through magazines (Mario’s was ESPN and Maria’s was Vogue – swear!) and Maria got called up to the chair.  She had decided she would “get a trim.”  However, she didn’t make it two minutes before she started crying about how much it hurt to comb her hair.  It went from a slight sniffle to a full-blown sob and we had to stop the hairstylist.  If there is one thing that Maria hates it is getting her hair combed.  I let her brush her own hair for school because she has such a meltdown if I touch it.  It is one of those battles I choose not to have because it isn’t worth it in comparison to getting dressed, getting lunch together, getting homework done.  She certainly does not do the best with it but I don’t have enough energy to waste fighting this one (although there are times that I just want to style her gorgeous thick hair!). Mario is up to the chair next.  He sits straight up, eyes focused in the mirror, sucker in his mouth, and does not move the entire time the stylist cuts, razors and trims up his hair.  He watches intently in the mirror soaking up the adoration and pampering from the staff.  When finished, he agrees to some gel through his hair.  When we get outside, the wind blows hard.  “Mom, does my hair still look good?”  The boy is destined to be the next drop-dead male model – god help us. 

We head to Giant Eagle next to pick up lawn bags and yogurt with candy on top (Mario’s new obsession).  I am concerned about the walk home because I now have bags of groceries and therefore it is inevitable one will be too tired to walk and want me to carry them.  However, much to my amazement, they run with each other down Grandview Avenue, stopping at the waterfall again and the mailboxes.  They continue to think it is so funny to hide from me behind a parking meter.  

We were so close to home when Mario tripped on a hose; hence, the end of the walk for him.  I carried him home with Maria by my side asking if I was proud of her for walking the entire way. “Maria, you are my amazing, strong, adventurous girl – I am so proud of you.”  She continued to look down the street but I saw a little smile form on her face. 

My rough and tough princess

Thank god for this day – we all needed it to raise our spirits and get us back into life again.  Recharge the batteries.  See the light.  Tomorrow is supposed to be back to 40 degrees and cloudy but we can handle it for a few days now that we have had the gorgeousness and splendor of today.  Besides, daylight savings time is tonight so it will be light until 7 or so every evening – another saving grace to keep us away from those doldrums.

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!