Why my sister is better than Superman

Sure Superman is faster than a speeding bullet on land and in the air but how does he stack up against my sister, Angie, who just finished the SLC 1/2 Marathon with me last weekend?

Lets see...

Did Superman ever run a 1/2 Marathon? I don't really know for sure, but it seems awfully likely that he has - or that he could.

Did Superman ever run a 1/2 Marathon with Kyptonite in his back pocket - 'Enduring to the End' despite sleep deprivation, asthma and an injured foot?

I think not.

And this, my friends, is why MY SISTER is much more impressive than Superman.

Congrats Ang!!!

Look Ma! I'm an Impressionist!

New obsession : Oil Painting.

My favorite little-sister-that-has-a-name-beginning-with-'H' came over tonight and gave me a primer on oil painting.

OH MY GOODNESS! I am so hooked!

Here is my first meager attempt. I joked once to a friend at work that if I ever really took up painting I think I'd be an Impressionist. Sure enough...that is what came out of the brush - something that looks vaguely Impressionistic.

I love Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad books and have been making sketches of his pictures for a while. Today I did a simple painting of our dear sweet "Toad". I'm hoping over the months and years I'll improve to the point where this stuff is actually show off-able. But I'm still pretty darn proud of myself.

Forgetting - and Hope

http://xkcd.com/379/

About 2 months ago I…. well… for the purposes of this post we’ll just call it a ‘loss’ - I suffered a rather major loss in my life. Odd thing was, other than a very few tears this “loss” didn't seem to affect me much. I went on with my life and honestly had 2 of the most peaceful, productive, athletic, creative and spiritual months I can remember for a very long time.

Looking back on it now it seems like the content censor in my brain (and yes, I’m sure I have at least 2 of them. One for input, and a very lazy one for output) saw the fateful message come across his desk and decided, "Nope- you now what? She’s really too fragile to handle this at present. I mean look at this place! Work is stressing her out. We’ve just come out of 3 straight weeks of migraines and there are chemical imbalances EVERYWHERE! Serotonin production and retention are at an all time low while cortisol is out of control! Nope, nope we are going to heavily redact this one before sending it for processing. It will be like nothing ever happened..."

Now, keep in mind - it’s not that I actually had forgotten anything. I was sad. I thought about what had happened and had tangible reminders of it every day. For some reason, however, there wasn’t as much sting as I would expect. I even remarked to friends and family that I was a little worried that the other shoe was waiting to fall.

Well, it did. Last Friday I got a rather strong reminder of what happened in February. It hit me with much more force than I would have ever anticipated. Mr. Censor (don’t ask why my female brain has a male censor, I don’t know why.) took a look around my brain and saw how much healthier I’ve been lately. I’m running, meditating, eating better, drawing, painting, writing, going to church, reconnecting with friends, (breathe!) and finding some balance with work and home. Well, I suppose he decided that it was time. Not just time to deal with Friday’s news – but time to finally read and process the entire first message.

It’s been a rough couple of days. I have to say, though, I am starting to feel hopeful. Hopeful that now I can *finally* (I said FINALLY…dammit!) begin the process of putting this whole sad chapter behind me.

Hopeful.

Hopeful that there really is a new better chapter waiting to be written.

Where the Wild and Busy Things Are

One of my fave books ever is 'Where the Wild Things Are'. It's one of the few things I fought for in the divorce (the other was the Dyson vacuum...but I digress)

This morning when I got into work there was an email from one of my best and favorite friends, Chelsea. I am posting it here with her permission.

The morning Corissa wore her jogging suit and ran laps of one kind and another Chelsea called her "Busy thing!"
And Corissa said, "I'll call you up!"
But she went to bed without doing her homework.
That afternoon in Corissa's room an office grew And grew And grew until the ceiling was partitioned and the walls became cubicles squared around And a desk folded up with a PC for Corissa and she booted up through Windows and Office
And worked through lunch and almost through the day and ran to the office meeting where the Busy Things are.
And when she came to the conference room where the Busy Things are they lolled in their favorite chairs and drank their caffeinated drinks and blinked their bloodshot eyes and talked to their nearest neighbor
till Corissa said, "Let's Focus!" and silenced them with her laser pointer and well-typed notes following her Power Point and they were impressed and called her the Busiest Thing of all
and named her Supervisor. "And now," Corissa decreed,
"Let the debugging commence!"------Interlude-----Play good debugging music here------
"Now retest!" Corissa cried and sent them back to their cubes without a meal break.
And Corissa the Supervisor of all Busy Things was stressed and wanted to be where someone had a large TV and surround sound and Lord of the Rings on Blu-Ray.
Then from a cubicle across the floor she heard a good soundtrack play and caught a whiff of chocolate so she resigned as Supervisor of where the Busy Things are.
But the Busy Things said, "You can't go- the developers will want to release, you know!"
But if Corissa heard, it didn't show.
The Busy Things lolled in their favorite chairs and drank their caffeinated drinks and blinked their bloodshot eyes and turned to their nearest neighbor but Corissa shut down her computer and said, "Good-bye."
And filled out her time sheet for attending the meeting and working almost all the day and through her lunch

Then found herself back in the twilight of her very own room where she found her cellphone

And she had voicemail.

Nature or Nurture

I am your classic type A personality. One of the symptoms thereof is my desire, nay, need to write lists for EVERYTHING. Life goal lists, To-do lists, shopping lists, project lists, people to throw water balloons at list... you get the picture.

It appears this trait is rubbing off on my impressionable children. They currently refuse to clean their rooms if they do not have a list to follow (for more details on the room cleaning drama see post on dramakazeandtheredcurse.blogspot 'Just Clean Your Room')

A few months ago Sydney (who is now 9) wrote us up an itinerary for a mini vacation she wanted us to go on. It was fantastic.

4:00 Leave School
4:30 - 5:30 Go home and pack
6:00 Drive to hotel
6:30 Check in to hotel
7:00 Play with toys
8:00 Watch a movie
10:00 Go to bed

and so on and so forth for 2 days worth of activities. (I have it on my 'To Do' list for this year to actually do that vacation)


Today, I'm realizing I've created a monster. Sydney sat down before dinner and wrote up a list for her play date with her best friend, Anna, tomorrow.

1. Listen to Abba (2 songs) (Don't blame me, Grandma let her watch Mamma Mia!)
2. Listen to HSM3 (2 songs) (That's High School Musical 3, for those uninitiated)
3. Beat Neil at Wii tennis (The friend's brother)
4. Beat you (Anna) at Wii bowling (again) (the previous parenthetical remark '(again)' is what she actually wrote)

She is still working on it. There are a further 14 blank lines she intends to fill in. We had to have a talk about being flexible.

Then she asked how to spell 'flexible'....