Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Carson Strikes Again

This teen-age boy of mine...sometimes I don't even know what to say. In those moments all I can do is shake my head. Last night's conversation presents a "shake my head" moment.

-Carson: Why is it you can walk up behind a guy & rub his stomach, no big deal. But if you try to do that to a girl
-I interrupt and say "You're going to get punched"
-Carson: Yeah, why is that?
-Me: Boundaries, son. You are breaking all kinds of boundaries when you try to do that.
-David now enters the conversation with this gem: You can only rub pregnant bellies.
-Me: NO! You can't go around rubbing pregnant bellies.
-David: Why not? They're all swollen and rubbable.
-Me: You can't because it is part of the woman's body. She gets to say who touches her. It would be like going up to a pregnant lady and asking to rub her breasts because they are swollen and rubbable due to her pregnancy.
-Carson: So. I would want to rub those, too.

Oh boy.

Fortunately Carson does have a good grip on boundaries and only says those kinds of things to get me all stirred up; although it was Dave who was saying, "NO! NO! NO!" at the end of this conversation. Serves Dave right for even suggesting that somehow boundaries don't apply to pregnant bellies.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

A Good Day for a Run

Yesterday afternoon turned out to be almost perfect running weather for a half-marathon. The morning started gray and foggy, but by time the starting siren sounded at 2 p.m. the fog had lifted and the sun was gently warming the runners below. The sun caught the golden hues of the leaves on the trees and made for a spectacular backdrop for the 13.1 miles. There was just enough breeze to make one feel alive and invigorated but not so strong that one would be cursing the wind and finding other runners to tuck behind. The thermometer read 52 degrees when we started, right there in that ideal temperature range for running. All those factors, plus a good training program, set me up for a pretty good race.

I decided to change things up a bit and start in the front of the race pack; I usually prefer to remain anonymous at the back of the pack. However, this was a small field of runners so I thought what the heck, let's throw caution to the wind, and start towards the front. It was an OK strategy, but I did find that I went out a little faster than I usually do. I tried to settle into a sustainable pace by mile 2, but had trouble doing that. But the hilly course forced my body to find a pace that I could keep for the next 11.1 miles.

I usually have my training partner by my side during our races and we keep each other honest with our pacing; however, she has been injured and since coming back from her injury she has been a lot slower so this race I was on my own. I tried to stay with another friend, but she was having an amazing race and since I hadn't trained with her since the summer, I couldn't keep her pace. It was frustrating to realize that training long runs with a slower training partner had taken a toll on my running. I had hoped that I would have been able to maintain my speed through tough speed work work-outs, but it wasn't enough.

But since I was changing things up a bit this race I decided to do something that I have rarely done and that was to use other runners to my advantage when I needed to. Somewhere around mile 5, two guys passed me just before hitting an uphill section. I let them go by me and then stayed on their shoulder for just a bit. I passed them back about 2/3 of the way up the hill. They employed my technique and let me drag them up the rest of the hill. They let me keep the pace down the hill onto a flat section. I slowed a bit so they could pass me back--I wasn't willing to do all of the work--and let them keep the pace for the next mile. It was a pretty good strategy as I was able to keep an 8:15 pace without much effort as I was behind them. We hit another grade between mile 6 and 7 and I passed them again. This time they couldn't keep up so they let me go. I found another guy to run with until we hit a hill and then I was the one who couldn't keep the pace so I had to let him go.

 By this time I was struggling and I took a few short walk breaks. Finally I hit the last turn around point and only had a 5k left. I kept telling myself there is no walking in a 5k so I just gutted it out. I did have some extra motivation that kept me going those last 3 miles. I was bound and determined not to lose my spot in the Top 15 women. I was pretty sure that I was 12 or 13 at the last turn around, but there was a lady who had closed a lot of distance on me during my little walk breaks. So even though my stomach was about ready to drop a bomb, I just kept running. I was pretty strong on the last couple of hills and used the downhill sections to my benefit.

With about a 3/4 miles to go I noticed a lady who had been pretty far ahead of me the whole race had probably bonked and was now walk/running. Now I was probably about 400 yards behind her. I don't know that I consciously ran any faster, but with about 100 yards to go she was only about 20 feet in front of me. But here is where an interesting thing happened. I suddenly felt bad about the thought of passing her. I mean I was seriously debating with myself about whether I should pass her or not. If I didn't have the other lady totally bearing down on me I'm not sure what I would have done. However, I wanted 1) get a PR and it was going to be close and 2) not to let anyone pass me with 80 yards left--that's why I done all of that speed work. So I found a faster gear, passed the lady, and finished with a PR. 1:57:23.

Am I satisfied with the results? Well, who could be disappointed with a PR? I'm still not as fast as I would like to be. I would like to by about 1:45 to 1:50. I know that in order to get there I may have to train more with my friend who had a fabulous race (and is my age) and less with my friend is slowing (she is 19 years older than me). Trying to figure out the best transition makes my stomach hurt because no matter how I approach things feelings will be hurt. That sucks.


Oh, and Carson also had a fantastic race day yesterday. He finished his cross-country season with a PR. He ran his 5k in 20:04! He started the season running a 22-minute something; last week he had 21:17. So what a great way to finish the season with beating his previous best time by over a minute.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Carson-isms

I think I might have mentioned on this blog a time or two that Carson has a unique sense of humor and way of looking at the world. Here are a couple of examples from this week:

On seeing the newest little Whiting's picture posted on Facebook (the picture was taken right after little Julie was born & was on the scale)...
-Carson: Why do newborn babies all look like those babies that they pull out of pots in the Harry Potter movie?
-Me: You mean mandrakes?
-Carson: Yeah, mandrakes. Why do all newborn babies look like mandrakes?


On Monday of this week he shared that he had met a girl who had just moved to our area from North Carolina. He has a thing about girls with Southern accents so he was in heaven when he met her and heard her talk. We thought maybe he would ask her to go to the football game with him, but he said he didn't really her know her very well. So last night as he was leaving for the football game Dave and I were asking about her again. Here is a snippet of the conversation:
-Dave: She would probably be the only girl that you would actually call.
-Carson: Yeah, no texting her. I just like hearing her talk.
-Some filler conversation I can't remember.
-Carson as he is walking out the door: But I don't think she is that cute. Man I hope she can cook. (He also has a thing for good Southern red rice & ribs)


Man I'm going to miss his little quips and quirks when he goes away to college next year.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

How Do I Help?


This meme showed up on a friend's Facebook timeline the other day. I wanted to click "like" when I saw it because I do agree with the sentiment, but I didn't. I'm not sure why I didn't. Maybe it was because I felt that supporting this sentiment should be more than just a click of a "like" button on Facebook; support of this sentiment should be me moving towards finding solutions to the poverty problem. And that is where I am stuck.

Oh sure, I donate to the local food banks. I donate used clothing, toys, household goods to local community groups. And yes, I donate money to our church's welfare services on a monthly basis. If I have some spare food in my car I will give it to the panhandler on the side of the freeway. I was a volunteer tutor to a foster child who need some help with her school work. But do those things really move our society towards solving the problem of poverty in our country? I don't know. Maybe what I do is like the little boy who saved one starfish at a time...I can't save everyone, but my efforts do matter to the one that I helped at that moment.

However, as I grow older I am wanting to help on a larger scale. So what can I do to be the change in the world that I want to see? On this poverty issue I really don't know. At the school nurse conference I attended last weekend we heard a poverty expert, Donna Beegle, speak on poverty in the United States. She grew up in poverty, dropped out of school after 9th grade, got her GED at age 26 and then went on to get a PhD. You would think that if anyone could help me see some solutions, she would be the one. However, I was seriously disappointed with her presentation, especially since her presentation was based on her book "See Poverty...Be the Difference".

From her I learned a just few things. First, I learned all about what poverty teaches you. I also learned that she has little regard for Ruby Payne, a researcher who addressed the effects of poverty on children and education. And I learned that if you are middle class you just don't get poverty because you look at everything through a middle class lens (Ruby Payne is middle class and that is why this lady dismissed that research done by Payne). So I kept waiting for her to offer me some solutions; solutions that she has come up with because she has lived poverty, worked her way out, and now is an "expert". But all I kept hearing was statistics on the underinsured, the number of hungry children, the dropouts, the marginalized and "can't we do better?"

Yes, I want to do better. But what I heard her say was I really can't because I only see things through a middle-class lens. Any solution I might offer will always be tinted by that lens. She kept telling us to just stop and take time to notice. OK, I'm noticing. Now tell me how to fix the things I notice. And don't tell me to fight for more public policies that address poverty because I don't think that is a good solution. The reason I don't is because those policies are developed by people who are definitely more upper middle-class than I am and if I don't get poverty, they certainly don't get poverty.

So I'm back to the title of my post...how do I help? What solution can I offer to the poverty problem and what part do I play? I don't want more government programs because I don't believe those offer real solutions. The people who wind up paying more in taxes get angry about higher taxes, but often not angry enough to actually get out and do something solving the poverty problem; higher taxes are easier to pay when compared to the time, talents, and effort that would be required to really help address the problem. On the other side are those who are the recipients of the government's help. Some work incredibly hard (like mentioned in the meme at the beginning of this post), but there are others who take complete advantage of the programs set up for their benefit. Those who take advantage of the programs are the ones who spoil it for all.

I wish I had a good ending for this post, but I don't. There are no easy answers; perhaps there aren't even any solutions to poverty. I just want to know the best way to help and feel like I'm making a difference on a larger scale than just a single starfish saved.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Folding Laundry Made Me Misty-eyed

Folding laundry is the pits. It is one of those jobs that you repeat over and over only for it to be completely undone shortly thereafter. It is also a thankless job as no one ever says "Thanks mom (or wife) for making sure I have clean clothes and because you folded them so nicely I have mostly unwrinkled clothes to wear." Washing clothes and folding them is one of those tasks that I  have tried to go on strike about, but um, it hasn't worked out so well during those times. So once a week I begrudgingly spend one evening washing and folding all of the clothing that makes it down to the laundry room.

The latest installment of laundry took me an evening and next morning to get it all done. I was folding laundry in the morning after my run, carefully watching the clock so I could make sure to wake Carson up on time, and out of the blue I got all misty-eyed as I was folding. It was probably because I was carefully folding up one of Carson's shirts, placing it gently in his laundry cube and coming to the realization that no too far into the future I won't have as much laundry to wash and fold.

And that realization caused me to think about other things that I soon won't have to do...no more early-morning wake-up calls to Carson, no more making of M-F school lunches, no more making muffins at least every other week. It is so weird to think about having both kids gone...Katelyn reports to the MTC on February 12th; Carson graduates in June.

Go figure, misty-eyed over realizing my laundry loads will be cut in more than half in just a few months time. Most people would probably be jumping for joy.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Angry Usually Means Something Else

The other night I was having dinner with a group of friends. The conversation turned to kids and they asked how Katelyn did at school her first year. I took a deep breath and said "Well, socially she did great. Academically, well, that was not nearly as successful." The friends were curious about what exactly this meant and as I began to explain, frustration and anger bubbled out. It was kind-of a downer and conversation killer.

Later that night as I was thinking about the conversation I realized that my anger was just a face for some other emotions. First, I'm worried and scared for Katelyn. What will her life look like if college isn't a success for her and she can't find a job? I certainly don't want her to live a life of just barely scraping by, but I feel completely paralyzed in my ability to help.

Second, the anger was just a defense mechanism to try and mask the real failure...me. From the time that I held her in my arms for the first time I wanted to be nothing more than the best mom that I could be. I thought I had done a good job working with Dave to build a safe, loving home that provided structure, a place to safely take risks, somewhere to learn responsibility and accountability. I thought we had given her the tools necessary to be a successful college student. I thought wrong. And realizing that her failure was due mostly in part to my failure as a mother was a crushing blow. I grew up hearing at church that the role of mother was the most important work that a woman could ever do. Raising the next generation to be responsible, contributing adults was a sacred calling and here I was a failure at my most important calling (something I actually felt called to do as opposed to my job as a nurse). Of course I was angry. I was just angry at the wrong person.

While I feel bad about how the conversation with my friends went, I am grateful for the opportunity it gave me to really reflect on what was going on with my emotions. Realizing that the anger and frustration were just covering up the real emotions of worry, fear, and failure was a huge revelation to me. It was actually liberating because I can now the blame from Katelyn and place it on me. It also helped me redefine what success is. Katelyn is much more successful than I will ever be because she is loving, kind, quick to not judge. If we have to build a new house with an apartment for her, well then so be it. I won't let her live a life of hardship just to try and teach her some tough love lesson.

One other thing I realized, I'm completely lacking in faith at times. No matter how much I like to plan and be in charge, all goes according to Heavenly Father's plan. He loves us and He wants us to be happy and successful. He knows Katelyn, her talents, her weaknesses, her dreams and desires. He will lead and guide. Now is my time to just be still and know that He is God.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Sayings I Think About When I Have Nothing Else to Think About

I'm drawn to short, inspirational sayings that give me pause and cause me to think. Over the last few weeks I've come upon a few sayings that have rolled around in my mind and I think about them when I have nothing else to think about.

Here they are:

  • "What you focus on expands" read on a blog written by Kristen Armstrong on Runner's World website.
  • "Don't always trust what you think" heard on the Dave Ramsey radio show
  • "Your name is safe in my house" read this morning on the Segullah blog
  • "Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith" by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf in October 2013 General Conference
I'm grateful for the thoughts and feelings that I have had around these sayings. Each one has caused me to dig deeper and pause in self-reflection to see where I might learn and grow.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

20 Years ago on October 4th

My life changed forever once again on that day. It was the day I became a mother. It was the day that we welcomed Katelyn Brooke into our family of two and became a family of three. How is it even possible that 20 years have gone by?

Twenty?!

I remember a few specific things about Katelyn's day of birth. Those things are all things Katelyn has heard before...stories about sending Dave out to brush his teeth while I'm in labor, asking Dave not to scratch/rub my arm because he was pressing too hard, her getting stuck under my tailbone and breaking it. But I'm not sure she has heard what our first thoughts were as we looked down on our ghost-white new baby girl.

First, I was amazed at her beauty and her round little head. That head did not smoosh at all which is probably why my tailbone was broken during her delivery. She only had two small bruises where the doctor had placed the foreceps.

Second, once we made eye contact she smiled and melted my heart right then and there. She had her daddy's dimple and the bluest eyes ever. I remember being so excited to have a little girl and even though I had not been a girly-girl while I was growing up, I couldn't wait to do girl things with my daughter.

Finally, I remember how her dad looked down on her as I held her in my arms. He was already a good man when I married him, but he changed that day. In an instant he now had two girls to love and his selfless nature was enhanced. He has spent the last 20 years doing everything in his power to show his two girls how much he loves them.

It is such a cliche` to say, but 20 years really has gone by in a blink of an eye. It seems that it was just yesterday as I gazed down on our new baby girl and wondered what the world had in store for her. We are pleased with the young lady she has grown into. We are looking forward to seeing her learn and grow as she is on her mission. And we are looking forward to the day, when she too, will be gazing down at her own new daughter.