at the old ball game

if i had drawn up a to-do list for this summer, near the top - right under "roast marshmallows" - would've been "go to a baseball game". i'm not a huge baseball fan per se, but i am a fan of cracker jacks. and s'mores. so, baseball and 'mallows. you're killing me smalls!

andy, on the other hand, prepares for opening day each year by watching every great baseball movie ever made and always ends his lineup with major league (it's a cleveland sports thing). since april, he and august have "watched" most saturday games that have aired during the prime napping hours of 2-4pm. one could say the two have been pre-gaming for months. so when we were invited to a ball game last weekend, andy was SO excited to take august to his first one. we had grand visions of him wearing this little baseball cap i got him for the game, cheering at every exciting play, and eating his first ballpark frank, spicy mustard and all.

but at a little over one year old, a lot of august's "firsts" are lost on him. like the baseball cap, which he refused to wear because even official MLB hats are not an exception to his nothing-goes-on-my-head policy. and hot dogs, which apparently are an acquired taste, even without the spicy mustard. but there was a lot that was not lost on him. like the roar of the stadium after each base hit. august joined right in with the rest of the fans, stopping whatever he was doing to clap wildly while shouting GOOOOOOL! (we're coming right off the world cup so ANY ball that is struck, gets the famous soccer cry from august.) we made it through five innings and even though we never did get a program for his baby book, they handed out commemorative bobbleheads - which hold up better after going in a child's mouth than paper does anyway. so welcome to our home, denard span. i hope you like it here because august sure does like shaking you.  

catch + release

hello, hi. how's your friday going? we're gearing up for a weekend without andy over here. in fact, our third wheel {think tricycle. we have a one-year old, you know} is already en route and nearing his destination as i write this, so it'll just be me and august with no plans in particular and great weather in the forecast. 

this isn't the first time andy has flown solo since august was born, but it *is* on the eve of a monumentous family event: my first trip sans bebe. but more on that later.

before the days of bath times and diapers - when it was just the two of us - andy and i often did things independantly. i think it was a bit disconcerting to our families at first, but they came to understand that it wasn't because we didn't want to be with each other or because our relationship wasn't strong enough. it was because we wanted our relationship to be strong that we held to our single-life selves {within reason, of course. he wasn't smooth-talking bartenders with updates on his dostoevsky thesis and i wasn't shyly flirtting with baristas who made perfect rosettas in my coffee}. we recognized early on that we each had individual interests long before coming together in legal union and what we acknowledged was this: he fell in love with me for all the things that add up to make me me and vice versa. 

a few weeks ago when i was finishing up this book, i read a quote that put it like this:

the point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. a merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. but once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.

the annual green drake hatch has begun in pennsylvania and new york this week and for eastern anglers, it's an epic event. andy will spend the next couple of evenings fishing way past dark with the hopes of catchting some of the largest trout in the northeast. by the time he's off the river, unrigged, and sipping a cold beer on the porch, august and i will have been fast asleep for hours, exhausted from our own full day of similar games of "catch and release". or at least that's what i imagine at four o'clock on a friday.   

enjoy the rest of your day and i hope you, too, have an epic weekend.

letters to a young poet

so i fiiiiinally finished reading this book. which, if your going to take forever, is a good book to read because as the title suggests, it's a collection of letters. so you can read one, come back the next day {or week}, and be like, oh hey! another letter! without having to go back and re-read anything. in other words, it's a great read if you have a pre-toddler that crawls up your leg every time you aren't either holding him or are on the floor totally engaging him.

i don't know if it was because of the time and effort involved in corresponding with people back in the day or if it was just because rilke was such a brilliant poet, but these letters aren't just letters. they are artifacts. it's like he took letter-writing as seriously as he took his poetry and the results were ten letters that are strung with PEARLS OF WISDOM.

don't worry, this isn't a book review {i am in no way an authority in literature and won't pretend to be well-read. although, if you're looking for a good place for book reviews, go here. it's. awesome. and hilarious. and just go check it out.} but i do love a good quote and this book is chock full o' them, so this me sharing a few of those quotables:

+  be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. and the point is, to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

+  draw near to nature. then try, like some first human being, to say what you see and experience and love and lose... seek those which your own everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, passing thoughts and the belief in some sort of beauty - describe all these with loving, quiet, humble sincerity, and use, to express yourself, the things in your environment, the images from your dreams, and the objects of your memory. if your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.

+  people have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must hold to what is difficult; everything alive holds to it, everything in nature grows and defends itself in its own way and is characteristically and spontaneously itself, seeks at all costs to be so and against all opposition... that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it.

+  the point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. a merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. but once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.

four things

ONE// the camera wasn't out much this week so instead, i offer this single photo. which, is entirely unrelated to anything other than it's a stinkin cute picture of my son who now claps at anything, dispelling most traditional interpretations of clapping.

TWO// marathon monday did not dissappoint: rita jeptoo wins her third boston marathon in a new course record, meb runs an inspiring race to become the first american male champion since 1983, and 36,000 other runners showed what it means to be "boston strong". this year's race represented everything good about sports. it was all goosebumps and teary eyes in my corner of the office monday morning. YOU GOTTA LOVE SPORTS!

THREE// in the text versus voice debate, i'm pro text. it's short and sweet and there's time for thoughtful composition. talking moves too fast for me and i'm just not quick with words {give me a keyboard and some quiet time any day over real time chatting}. sometimes, i forget about my communicative handicap like i did this week, when i called a friend to share some exciting plans before they were finalized; yeay! we're coming to visit! so... where can we (me, my husband, and our six a.m. alram clock, aka baby) crash?
friend - you know who you are - thanks for being better on the phone than me and not letting on to the awkwardness.

FOUR// the aforementioned sneaky plan i've been cooking up for my husband who celebrates his birthday next week. muahahahaha.

four things

ONE// how to throw together an impromptu picnic: spot an empty park; use baby's swaddle as blanket; buy a baguette, perfectly ripe avocado to spread on it, sparkling water, and fresh fruit from the local market; and enjoy! {leaves, sticks, and acorn hats are also appetizing picnic fair}

TWO// the other day, i came home to a spring bouquet, picked and arranged by august (with help for his dada). my men get styling points #vasesareoverrated

THREE// that house! with it's red shutters, bay windows, picket fence, and that tree! there's a brick sidewalk laid out in front of it, which the weather has raised in spots. it's like the owners have been working on this elaborate prank. i run past that house almost daily and have nearly bit it more than a few times. i bet they hang out at the window waiting for someone to face plant right on their weathered sidewalk, it's springtime and a magnificent tree is blooming in front of our charming house, SUCKAS!

FOUR// at our house, you play with your food, eat with your hands, and feet are allowed on the table. what kind of child am i raising?!

have an awesome weekend, friends!

remembering boston

{photo}

for the past four years, i've rushed into work on patriot's day, excited to get to my desk so i could stream the boston marthon live on my computer. even before i ever ran my first 26.2, i felt a connection to the race, not only as an endurance runner but as the daughter of multiple time boston qualifier. it's is THE event in US marathoning and whether or not you've done the race yourself, i think most people can appreciate it's history and prestige.

when the bombs went off at the finish on boylston street just before 3pm last year, i had already shut the videostream down, but as the resident running guru at the office, i had people coming to me minutes after the news broke to ask if i had heard. "sure" i answered casually, "a kenyan [rita jeptoo] pretty handily dropped an etheopian [meseret hailu] in the final mile of the women's race, while a kenyan [micha kogo] and two entheopians [gebregziabher gebremariam and lelisa desisa] had an exciting sprint to the finish in the men's race." that was not the report they were asking about.

i heard cryptic bits - people trying piece together what had happened - an explosion at the finish line, people injured, no suspects. was it an act of terrorism? was it an isolated incident? who would do such a thing? my mind spun with thoughts. i was bursting at the seam with pregnancy and so far removed from the running world at that time, yet i felt the weight of the tragedy so presonally. the build up to a marathon is not just physical but emotional. for all those runners, the finish line meant so much more than a time and particpant's medal. how could why would anyone deny a person of acheiving such a innocent and noble pursuit? it's impossible to make sense of such a thing.

a year later, i go out for a run on a rainy april morning and i am grateful. ten months after the birth of my son, i am healthy and able to enjoy a sport that i love. somewhere deep in my soul though, i ache and i feel a heaviness in my legs. it's the weight of those three lives lost and the hundred's more injured. today, i remember them.

next monday, thousands will toe the line for this year's boston marathon and it makes me proud. i am amazed by our country's resiliance and all those brave runners are a symbol of that strength. that's why i loving running so much - it translates into all areas of life and helps us to realize what we are truely capable of. we are pretty incredible, aren't we? the ability of our bodies to heal, our hearts to mend, and our sprits to endure.

four things

ONE// sometimes, living so far away from grandma and grandpa isn't so bad thanks to facetime. whenever august hears that ringtone, he gets all excited and searches for the ipad. apparently, so do his grandparents. i imagine each of them rushing to their tablets - grandpa racing grandma to theirs, while augusts puts his crawl into high-gear towards ours. i love how they get to see each other a couple times a week thanks to the innovators at apple.

TWO// when we lived together, claudin and i used to get comments all the time about being twins. now that we live in different states, it sort of surprises us when we get together and everyone around us is gushing about the fact. take last weekend for example, when we were running side-by-side in the cherry blossom race and i heard countless spectators gasp, "look! they're twins!" sometimes it feels like we're part of a carnival side show, or something.  hey! a fun house mirror! WHAT A COINKIDINK

THREE// while doing a little spring cleaning, i found this black sequin tank that's been hibernating way too long at the bottom of the storage box {no thanks to all those frigid vortexes, hmph!} it was looking up at me with big diluted pupils, pleading in a hoarse whisper, "wear meeeee!" so i paired it with a cardigan and flats pants and called it "business casual" (who says sequins are just for nighttime or parties?) so i get to the office and this guy compliments me on the top. nice, right? well, instead of just thanking him and cutting off any awkward before it can happen, i modestly tell him that my son likes it too (because of the sparkles, duh!). he laughs and goes "yeah! but he's looking at your shirt for other reasons." to be fair, i kind of set the guy up for failure.

FOUR// so i've actually only got three things this week. but guys, you know what would be so super-cool-awesome? if you all shared some of your random happenings from the week. to fill in the gap. you know? c'monnnn! don't be shy... 

first post-baby race recap

that's me on the left and my twinner on the right

days later and i'm still gimping around from sunday's cherry blossom ten mile run. my time was nearly five minutes slower than my personal best and i almost dropped out halfway through, but man! it was great to race again.

when claudin called a couple of weeks ago to tell me that she had been accepted as an elite entrant for this year's running i was all, "yeay! that's awesome! go you!" but then she was like, "no, you've got to do it with me." and then i was like "mmm, yeahhhh... i don't know about that."

the cherry blossom ten miler is one of the biggest road races in the country and it was selected to host this year's US 10 mile championships, so in addition to the perennially strong international field, some of the nation's top distance runners would be in the mix. not only did i think that i had no business toeing the line with such high-caliber athletes, but when i planned my first race back from pregnancy, i had envisioned a more low-profile event. regardless, claudin urged me to contact the organizers to see if there were any more open spots. so i left the final decision to chance and in the hands of mr. race director. 

wouldn't you know it, i got in.

claudin arrived friday afternoon before the event and we spent saturday getting all the pre-race logistics in order. we checked in at hospitality suite, picked up our packets, ate the customary pasta dinner, and called it an early night. claudin was without her kids for the first time in years and andy was on baby-duty, so we nestled into bed and slept more soundly than either of had in months. as far as i was concerned, we were already winning.

the alarm went off at 4:30am on sunday morning and i wanted to hurl it at the wall (we're never using your ancient cell phone with it's devil ringer again, claudi). after lying a few minutes in bed until my heart rate returned to normal, i joined claudin in getting ready and twenty minutes later we were driving down the quite dark roads into DC.once on site, we dropped our things off and camped out in a tent that was designated for the invited athletes.

claudin and i warmed up around the national mall, while the day dawned around us. the sky was magnificently color-blocked with a soft orange on the horizon and a rich indigo overhead. the capital building sat against that stunning backdrop at one end of the mall and the washington monument was glowing in the light at the opposite end. everyone was pulling out their phones for pictures and once again, i cursed claudin's "dumb" phone for not having a camera. i don't know what made me more anxious: getting through the port-a-jon line before the race start or not being able to capture the photo.

the elite women were escorted to the line around 7:10am and we all took our final strides while the announcer introduced the field. when the bull horn sounded ten minutes later, i was running with this group of speedy women and heading towards memorial bridge like i hadn't missed the last year and a half of competing. the first mile of a race is always misleading. your body is fresh, pumping with adrenaline, and just steps ahead are some of the fastest women in the world. no big deal. for a minute you even think, hey! i might be in better shape, after all. this feels easy! but luckily, i wasn't *that* far removed from the sport so i knew to back off. claudin and i settled in at the back of a small pack of about six women who were running at our goal pace.

the next four miles went just as i hoped: claudin and i were running stride-for-stride at a comfortably hard pace, occasionally exchanging a few words of encouragement. as we approached mile five though, i sensed that while claudin was in cruise control, my foot was heavy on the gas trying to keep up. then, i started to feel a burn in my right quad/IT band. crap! we're not even half-way yet. it was too early for my body to be breaking down, so i knew that i was probably going too hard too soon. "go ahead, i don't want to hold you back" i told her. "no" she said and pointed to the ground at her side, indicating that i should get up next to her. i made the effort to catch up, but my wheels began smoking and the warning light came on. "if i don't back off now, i might not be able to finish" i told her and with that, claudin understood. she dropped me like i wasn't moving and left me alone in no-man's land.

we were entering haines point, an isolated peninsula where the only company was a bunch of demons hitchhiking on the side of the road. feeling lonely, i picked a few up, but those pesky hitchhikers were lousy companions. they kept talking about the pain in my quad and about how i haven't been training hard enough and how there were still five miles left to go. so after about a half mile of that nonsense, i decided that was about as far as i'd take them. without slowing down, i opened the door and kicked them out. when the next mile marker came up, i checked my watch and was surprised to see i was still on pace. if my body was holding on despite feeling so crappy, then the doubt was obviously all in my head.

i rallied my best survival tactics and coached myself into a more positive mind set. one thing that always works for me in these longer distances is breaking the race down into smaller parts - one mile is pretty easy to wrap your head around - so instead of thinking about the ten miles i had to cover, i focused on the one ahead. i looked for the runners in front of me and as it turned out,  i wasn't the only one hurting. there were a couple of women who had also fallen off the group. i set my my sights on their backs and gradually ran them down, one at a time. as i moved my way up, i noticed that there was just one woman between claudin and i.

with a mile left to go, i found myself on the heels of the next runner and less than 100 meters behind claudin. i passed the woman in front with ease but was nervous about her finishing kick, so to be safe, i pushed a little harder to create a buffer. despite my move, the distance between claudin and i remained the same. i lost sight of her around the final turn and instead noticed a particular couple on the sidelines that caught my eye: a handsome bearded man, holding an equally stunning little boy. "there's mama! go luci!"

it was with those two guys in mind (and the very real fact that if i didn't keep moving, my quads would shut down) that i bee-lined it to the finish and right through the line, like forrest gump running past the end zone. i clocked in at 1:01:06 and placed 39th. without ever stopping, i went straight to august and holding him my arms, paraded him around like i won top honors.

for the record:
+ my cellphone isn't any "smarter" than claudin's but the battery was dead that morning
+ claudin finished 20 seconds and one spot ahead of me. she's clearly at a new level since her 5th place finish at the marine corps marathon and i'm excited for her to run even faster in her next one!
+ there were two other new moms who put my performance to shame with how fast they blazed: sara slattery finished 14th in 54:14, while megan wright was 22nd in 56:51.  both have one-year-old boys.
+ my good friend and old high school teammate, chris sloane, also ran super fast and PRd by a minute.
+ after the race, claudin and i split a large pizza and each HOUSED a double concrete from the shake shack WHAT! (that one was for both of you, ne and nick mangum)
+  the cherry blossoms hadn't even budded but they're reported to be at their peak between april 8-12. but SHHHH don't tell anyone until after i've taken my pictures and left this coming saturday

four things

ONE// a friend from work had an oversupply of girl scout cookies from her daughter's troop, so i offered to take some off her hands (my generosity abounds). i ordered six boxes: two each of samoas, tagalongs, and thin mints, naturally. one box didn't even make it home from work the first day and  i got this text the next day, "rookie mistake leaving those girl scout cookies within my reach, lulee". anyone want to put money on how long the remaining four boxes last?
p.s. august

TWO// august has been recently going through this phase where he only wants mama or dada - he's been a bit skeptical of anyone he doesn't see on a daily basis. we've spent the last four weekends with my mother though and now she's in his circle of trust too. she's like a human baby activity center, my mom. she sings, she dances, she makes funny noises (saying "woops" is hilarious, apparently). he gets all excited and starts bouncing in my arms now whenever he sees her!

THREE// visits with my twin sister are never complete without at least one stop at our favorite independent coffee shop. we order fancy espresso drinks, double them up with extra caffeine, and take pictures of every cup we drink - hashtag latteart! - i can't help it, really. coffee is so photogenic.

FOUR// we usually wake up to august squawking in the room next door. this week, he's evolved from chicken to duck and now he quacks in his crib until one of us goes to get him. trying not to jinx it or anything, but it's been two mornings in a row now and he's slept until 7am. we've been especially loving parents these past few days.

forty weeks

august is forty weeks old. TEN MONTHS. that means he's been living on the outside for as long as he was cooking on the inside. {yeah, that's right. whoever said it was nine months apparently didn't count the first month before they realized they were pregnant. or maybe they chose to forget about the last month that seems to draaaggg} lately, it's this ten-months-in/ten-months-out parallel that's got me all nostalgic and maybe a little sentimental. also, full disclosure: i've been reading rainer maria rilke. so. you've been given fair warning.

but twenty months! how does something just go from not being to being in such a short amount of time?

i ask you.

because i'm still reeling at the wild the fact that something so complex as human life can essentially be created from nothing and that that something becomes someone. 

i remember many nights during my pregnancy; sitting on the couch, my feet propped up on andy while we dreamed about what our little family would be like. we'd talk about what kinds of parents we'd be (firm but trusting) or we tried to imagine how our baby would look (andy's big eyes, my ski slope nose). all of it was just talk and we knew it. how could we really know when, for so long, he was just this vision. time moved slowly then.

of course, august was more real to me than he was to andy {what with the exhaustion and aversion to coffee, awhaaat?} but even then, he was just a heartbeat for such a long while. after a few months though, we got to put a blurry black and white picture to the pulse. and weeks later, the image became a bump. and soon after that, the bump gave an assertive little kick! and that's when things sped up. an intense heat, a warm rush, and we were suddenly holding those little kicking feet.

watching august grow these past ten months has been like watching a polaroid develop. his face has filled out, his corn-silk hair is long enough now that it curls slightly at the ends, his big eyes (just like we envisioned, only not hazel like his dada's) have changed from the iceberg blue of his infancy to a true blue, like denim. all his features coming together now to form a little BOY.

now our conversations are about what kind of man he will be or the things he will accomplish or the woman he will marry... one night, after august had gone to sleep and it was just the two of us again alone on the couch andy told me this:

becoming a father has brought me at peace with my own mortality. i'm not worried about dying anymore because now i know that there is something bigger than me. you know what calms me at night? the thought of august being an old man one day. i see him as a grandfather with little ones, like he is now, crawling all around. that gives me peace.

i've been thinking about that a lot and you know what? andy may be onto something. i look at august now and i see every age he's been, from fetus to infant to baby to boy. but then i really look at him and see that he is already every age he will ever be. even that old man with the wisdom of time in his true blue denim eyes.

four things

ONE//  for months, bandit the raccoon sat in the corner of august's crib without so much as a sideways glance from the boy. it wasn't until recently that august really noticed his pal, which he re-named ge-ge (i dunno? g sounds came sooner than the b's.) the other night when andy held him up and asked august "who's this", august looked at the raccoon in his father's hands and said "hiiiiii gheee-ghee" BUT WAIT! it gets better. i impulsively grabbed the animal, gave him a kiss, and asked august if he would to give ge-ge a kiss. right on cue, he lurched at ge-ge with his mouth open and gave him a big ol' bite/kiss. my heart jumped out of my chest and melted into a puddle right there on the floor.

TWO// andy and i exchanged these short emails with each other on tuesday:

andy: august wants to go straight home, put on his wolfpack shirt, and get ready for tonight’s game with ge-ge and some nachos.

me: wolfpack, ge-ge, nachos. heard.

so when we got home we put on the shirt, we ate nachos, and august sat on the floor with half of ge-ge's arm in his mouth. it was like a proper tailgate - we sang fight songs and marched around the living room, clapping our hands. but the game was on way past august's (and my) bedtime so andy gave us the recap and final score the next morning. fair-weather fans, i know.

THREE// have you ever been on the campus of a high school right before classes start? there's usually a parade of cars out front, with parents dropping off kids. then there are the kids who live within walking distance... so i was out on the local track early yesterday morning and there was a dense fog hanging over the playing fields. then i noticed these dark figures emerge in the distance - dozen's of 'em - they came from all directions, moving slowly toward the school building. the chain-link fences, the fog, the creepy shadow figures... it was like scene from the walking dead.

FOUR// this one time when my sister and i were waiting for a bus, a friendly stranger struck up conversation with us. we listened politely to his stories and smiled. {we have big smiles, my sister and i.} our companion pointed this fact out. then, he went on about it, saying we looked like "whovillians". he said that. he said, "you've got big teeth, like whovillians." and then our smiles got smaller (self-consciously small). years passed and then i went for my semi-annual dental checkup (yesterday). as the dental assistant cleaned my teeth she remarked that my teeth are "a nice size; evenly proportioned." hear that bus-stop stranger? there are more tactful ways to talk about a person's features.

finger food... or you can just use your mouth, whatever

right about when he was nine months old, we started giving august his first finger foods. {i have to interrupt the story here for a moment to go slightly off topic and address the awkward fact that i've been referring to my son as "the baby" ever since the privacy issue was brought to question weeks ago. i've been trying to be more careful about the details i share here, but after some consideration, i'm not so sure that using his name poses a serious threat to our privacy. plus, those vague references are wordy and exhausting. so. back to august it is. and hey! that wasn't such a tangent after all because i'm eating my words, so we're still kind of talking about food} anyway.

so we started giving august solid food - that is, bits of non-pureed whole food - about three weeks ago. on our first attempt, i cut up a banana into baby-sized chunks and placed them in front of him. he looked at it, recognized it, and made the connection: i eat that. or maybe he didn't make the banana = food, food = something-you-eat connection (every new thing is first discovered by his mouth these days). either way, i had my camera at the ready for this momentous event of "baby's first". what was captured though, was very different from what i had imagined. i envisioned his little thumb and index finger delicately pinching a tiny morsel, examining it, and then very deliberately putting it in his mouth. he would then pause, smack his lips and nod in approval. yes, yes! i taste notes of honey, maybe a hint of pineapple? but this was not the curious-little-finger-pinching-of-morsels that i had pictured. no, this was MUCH better. instead, he made a nose dive right into the table with the banana his target. it makes sense really. up to that point food had very conveniently been coming to him either by breast or by spoon - all he had to do is open his mouth. 

after letting him hoover up that first piece though, i decided to be a good mom and teach him better dining etiquette. no, no, no. don't use your MOUTH, use your HANDS. but gosh darn if those bananas aren't the slipperiest suckers! he fumbled and prodded mostly. then he developed a system of grabbing the food, squishing it in his fist, and smashing it on his face. some of it would eventually make it's way into his mouth - i'd say one out of five - along with rogue dog hairs and some dust probably. FIVE-SECOND RULE! no? how about, "it builds a strong immune system"? hmm. well, we try. and so does august. he REALLY tries, scrunching up his forehead in concentration and pawing at the food.  that's when we brought out the fine cutlery. and wouldn't you know it, aside from a little help with piercing the food, the boy was a natural. i tell ya', if he isn't barbaric, he is totally refined because there's no in-between for a gentleman caught in baby's body. 

four things

ONE// there comes a point in time in every relationship when your idiosyncrasies become endearing to each other. there also comes a point in every relationship when even the cutest nuances lose their charm. say, for example, your stomach makes a silly little gurgling sound while you're lying bed next to each other. it might get a collective chuckle and then he'll ask/tease if you're ok and you'll demurely laugh it off with a "yeah, my stomach must just being loud digesting".  but when your stomach decides to go on a exaggerated rant, groaning like it's going for some kind of record, it's not so cute and funny anymore. and you both sit in awkward silence wondering WHAT exactly it is digesting.

TWO// i hate to harp on the weather but, sixty degrees on tuesday! which meant sleeping in and taking a run after work with my son in the jogger. he's been out with me once before - back in october when the warm air was kinder to little baby faces - but once that north wind blew, we packed her up and dreamt of springtime jaunts. i've been a little nervous about running with my son because he's older now - he's mobile. and you know babies once they're mobile; THEY want to do the moving for themselves. being strapped is almost a form of torture. but the running gods were on our side tuesday and he rode quietly along, kicking his feet, and occasionally letting out a thrilled eeeeeeeeeeee on the downhills.

THREE// breakfast for dinner is awesome when you crack your egg into the frying pan and two yolks DON'T come out of the same egg. i stood at those stove horrified and at a serious crossroads: how do i - being a twin - eat this these eggs. i, of course, ate the egg(s) because i was taught never to let things go to waste, but i've been wondering... it's all got to mean something, right?

FOUR// gag, if you must, but that picture down there - the one with the two very handsome men greeting each other after work yesterday? i mean. THAT is why the camera is slowly becoming an extension of my hand.

enjoy your weekend and happy friday!

which way did the clocks move?

last sunday's wake up call sounded to the thppppbth, bakabakabaka, thppppbth coming from the crib in the room next door. there is no "sleeping in" on the weekends when you have a baby. not unless your partner decides to take one for the team, leaving you the whole bed and an extra hour to snooze. that there is what you call a clutch performance and it was HUGE since daylight savings was saying it was six a.m. when it was actually only five. heroics like that make you want to do something really special for a person. you know, to show your profound gratitude. so around seven, i shuffled out of the bedroom, traded off with my husband and left him the whole house while it was still dark and quiet enough for to salvage some sleep.

i loaded the baby into the car and we headed to abuelita's house for the day. it's the same house i grew up in and the place my siblings and i now call "the family home". the drive is not that far - only a few towns over - but it feels like another world; another time. the visit was unplanned, so when i walked in - baby on left hip and tray of coffees in right hand - to an empty house, i was only mildly surprised. she must be at church. we passed the time exploring the ol' homestead. memories were ignited by each room: my dad's office, where the desk lamp burned late every night as he prepared work for the next day; my sister's bedroom, where the wall-to-wall bookshelves make an impressive private library and a good source for some classic children's books; the loft, where we flipped through family photos my mother keeps in a wooden chest; and my bedroom, where we played with the same stuffed animals that sat on the pillows when i was a kid. walking around the home where you lived your childhood with your OWN child is kind of mind-blowing.

when my mom came home she had bagels and more coffee, which we enjoyed while helping the baby discover his food's route from table to mouth (a tricky and silly adventure that has its own story for another time). he barely finished his banana, smashing the last chunk into his eye as he rubbed it with sleep. once he was down for his nap, i left him in my mom's care while i went out for a run. running on the c&o canal brings back such vivid memories of my father. it's like he's with me whenever i'm there. i got lost in my mind with thoughts about runs we did together that one summer after my freshman year in college. as i approached the turn-around point, i remembered how he'd come home after having run to that same spot, bragging about finishing "just an easy thirteen [miles]" and had stopped midway to watch the kayakers navigate the white waters below. when i was done, i sat and stretched in the same gravel parking lot where he and i had stretched after every run together. only i have *these* memories of him. they're mine. my brother and sisters have their own intimate memories of him; my mother has countless more. but those moments are for each of us to cherish - gifts from my dad.

it's funny how when everyone was springing forward, i spent the day slipping back.

we're rooting for you, spring

nobody ever says "i'm so ready for this fall to be over". but winter? winter will have most everyone saying that in some form another. whether it's said as a hopeful, "i can't wait for spring" or a bitter, "that groundhog is full of it", by the end of the season, we're ready for longer days and kinder weather. this year in particular has been one giant eye roll. at least, it has been for those of us here on the east coast. you midwesterners and mountain-dwellers would probably yawn and crack your knuckles at how many inches we count as a lot of snow but for us, it's been a real doozy. 

you know, it's not even all the snow so much as it is living in this state of limbo, between cold and warm, lions and lambs, showers and flowers. sixty degree days, followed by record snowfalls just isn't right. then, just when i was starting to get used to seeing bare branches, these darling little pink buds had to appear on the trees. quit playing games with my heart, winter! i beg you. if not for me, then do it for this little guy, who is just itching to get outdoors and roll around in some mud.

we have this daybed set up in the baby's room that sits against a tiny window which opens up to the back yard - a bird sanctuary built by the former tenants and a selling point when we were house-hunting. the bed serves a dual purpose, acting as both resting place and changing table. since learning to crawl, this little one hasn't been the most cooperative during changes. most times, he squirms and crawls away before i can finish getting him dressed. (the window and all the birds returning from migration aren't helping the situation either.) but that little hand slapping against the window and that look on his face that asks, "can i go outside and play?" for those, i'll make more than a few exceptions.

my curly-haired sidekick and i made quick rounds of the yard to take stock of things. i'm happy to report that mother nature is right on track. we saw signs of spring all over: a curious finger met a fuzzy bud (yes, those are bare feet dangling in a blur in the background. don't judge me. it was a short outing), a feathered friend prepared her nest for new little arrivals, and plush greens dotted the roof like tropical islands in the ocean spotted from a plane. blue skies and warmer days ahead! only two more weeks if phil has anything to say about it.

happy

pharrell williams made the academy awards. well, ellen degeneres and pharrell did, but his performance of "happy"? it's totally worth a google if you missed it. the song has been on repeat at our house and has inspired more than a few living room dance parties. in fact, when we woke up to snow and another (!) day off, we declared "happy" our theme song. here's what it looked like.

  

if it weren't totally self indulgent, i would dedicate entire post to that bed head.

staying home - just me and the little guy - was like a flash back to our days together when i was on maternity leave. i loved those early months when he was a tiny, grunting piece of creation. i've sat at work missing that infant stage. yes, he was so fragile and so vulnerable and so utterly dependent on me then, but time moved slow and allowed us grow together. now, he's strong. and this new stage where he sits up on his own, plays independently, crawls around calling mamamamamamama? it's my new favorite.  

well, that was a freebie

 

we woke up to thirteen inches of snow last thursday. it was the kind that was fluffy enough to accumulate in heaps but light enough to keep the tree's limbs in tact and the electricity on. we dusted off the snow shoes and took a long walk, which i didn't get any pictures of on account of having a baby strapped to my chest while plowing through the white stuff. friday started like any other until the lights went out at work and we were sent home. woo-hoo! it's friday, i'm in love! on saturday morning, the olympics provided hours of entertainment, as usa spanked russia in hockey. then, on sunday, we did the patriotic thing and honored our nation's first commander-in-chief with a tour of d.c. it's not what you think though. we explored dupont cirle, brunched at duke's, drank flat whites/long blacks at filter, and browsed the phillips collection.  on monday - the fifth and final day - we rested, which is to say, we stayed in pajamas all day and never left the house until seven p.m. forced us to the grocery store for the least ingredients required to make a meal.

february has been extra good to us this year. it already had high marks for being the shortest month at a time when spring can't come any faster, but then kicking the long weekend off with valentine's on friday and two snow days? SOMEONE was good this year for jolly old saint george to bring all that for president's day. what. wrong holiday? well, after five consecutive days off, i'm founding the new church of no power outages, midday naps, and coffee that's not brewed from a k-cup, hallelujah.

scallops

eight years ago we celebrated our first valentine's. i tried to cook a romantic meal in the tiny kitchen of his rundown, off-campus house on crusty old cephalon pans {college boys don't clean dishes for days and when they finally do, they take a blade to it}. the odds were stacked against us: he didn't get me so much as a card and i almost burnt the place down. cupid just sighed and shook his head. last night, HE cooked the dinner and nary a fire alarm went off. showed me. they were the most perfectly seared scallops paired with a modest rosé. raspberries and chocolate for dessert. knows the way to a woman's heart, that one. 

ain't nothing gonna hold us down

we've been hiding behind steamy walls and foggy windows over here. some heartless winter bug took a big ol' bite out of our sweet, innocent little boy last week and the humidifier has been blasting since. it started with a runny nose, which was chased by a cough, followed by a fever, and ended with a miserable baby smushed on my chest for two consecutive days. incedentally, the nick name, 'sack of potatoes', has taken a traumatic new meaning. you'd think i got a lot of reading done. or at least some good netflix marathons. but alas. i was too worried for either, so i just stared at my son as he breathed through his mouth and soaked both our shirts with his sweat. it'll go down in the book like this: baby's first illness; mama's first meltdown. <<no picture>> anyway, light finally filtered through the haze and now we're on the other side of things - shiny happy people. or like in that sesame street episode: furry happy monsters. yea, i've got a kid.

so our boy rallied like a champ. yeah. showed that bug real good. he was sitting on the floor staurday morning when a thought bubble popped up: you can't hold me down, winter bug and he pushed himself up into standing. all on his own! {that one really did go in the book} then, because standing up big and tall wasn't enough, he started crawling. and i'm not talking army crawl - that was SO three weeks ago - it was a proper baby crawl. {also in the book} last, to cap the week of milestones and to prove that he's not all brawn, he spoke his first word. he sure did. we were all lying in bed when the boy turned his head, noticed his father beside him, and with a delighted tone of discovery said "dada". at six a.m on a sunday morning i didn't even care that "mama" didn't come out first. that utterance bought me a good three additional hours of sleep. there wasn't the slightest bit of resistance from dada, who gladly got out of bed to watch premier league soccer with his son. i could use about six more days of that kind of luxury. between you, me, and the baby, we've been working on "dad", "daddy", "padre", "papa", "pop", and "poop" (because sometimes, he really is).

what i think about when i run

1.6.14
treadmill run during lunch break
i lost my keys at work on friday and found them in the trash can under my desk three hours later. i spent the entire run trying to figure out how that happened since i have NO memory of doing it. all i could come up with was this vision myself in a work-induced daze: i finish eating lunch, wipe my hands, crumple up the napkin, and SLAM DUNK the keys into the trash can. 

1.7.14
break of dawn on the coldest day in 20 years
the temperature was in the singles digits, but the wind chill made it feel arctic. i was wearing two of every thing and had all of my body covered up except for my face. i don't think there is a weirder feeling than congealed mucus - i tried to come up with a list but nothing could top frozen boogers.

1.8.14
treadmill run after work on the second coldest day in years

i know that we’ll be safe and sound. beep-boo-be-be-be-be-boo-bee-be-boo-beep (safe and sound)

beep-boo-be-be-be-be-boo-bee-be-boo-beep we’ll safe and sound

the first song that played on the gym radio station was that capital cities' song and maybe it was because i was running inside and facing a window that looked out on all the people freezing outside, but it got stuck in my head for the duration of my workout. which wasn't at all annoying.

1.9.14

morning run

avocados. a_vo_ca_dos. avoCAdos.
of all the food my son has tried so far, i think they are his favorite. i need to pick some up from the store to mash up for his dinner tonight. since i can't run with a note pad and pen, i do this all the time (recite the grocery list in my head, over and over again).

1.10.14

on the treadmill again during lunch

nothing funny about today's run. i challenged myself to a quicker pace and had to focus on staying relaxed. my shoulders kept inching up to my ears until i'd wag my finger at them and say "ah, ah, ah. you get back down!"

1.11.14

a quiet grey morning

today i quite literally ran with my head in the clouds. my route was quilted with patches of fog and each time i ran through one of the hazes, i thought of when i was a little girl and wished of living on a cloud - childhood dream realized.

1.12.14
sunshine! squinted and hissed when it first touched my skin  
we have two very worn pillows sitting on our couch that have been on my project list. since i had a double shot of espresso and nothing on the schedule, my mind was buzzing with ideas. i planned out my CRAFTernoon with spastic enthusiasm.

what sort of odd things do you think about when you workout? leave a comment below - i'm curious and would love to know that i'm not the only flake who has such random thoughts.