photo dump: the thankful edition

It’s Thanksgiving Day so I’m going to give thanks, as one should on Thanksgiving Day…and every other day.

For Thing 1 and Thing 2, generously provided by my employer and a co-worker who has no use for the 12 pound turkey they handed him as we left work early in the morning last week. Yes, I named them, as I do every year. Deal with it! Meanwhile, Thing 1 and Thing 2 are currently soaking in an icy cold, brine-y bath waiting to be properly roasted.

For bringing sexy back in the way that only Personal Protective Equipment can. This look is hot. No. It really is hot.

The perfect pick-me-up after running 4 miles before you work your 4th 12 hour night shift in a week. Hurray for Snickers and for running and for a busy, busy full NICU which means work!

For kick-ass looking compression socks to wear after running a few miles before working hard on your feet for 12 hours all night long. Oh, and, give thanks for the break relief RN who makes the moment where you get to put your feet up for 20 minutes.

Be thankful for the 2 hour nap you had after working all night before you take the time to drive your favorite Princess 125 miles in the rain and wind and fog across a couple bridges during drive time Bay Area traffic so that she can attend two hours of Princess training.

It’s totally worth it when she sends you this picture of her being fitted for the wig of her favorite princess, one of a few who she will be portraying. Yes, you can almost hear her squeeing with delight from the only open cafe in the area where you sat and waited during those two hours. Worth it. Totally. So was her telling you how much she loved you and was glad you were driving as you drove across the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge in the 0.25 mile visibility fog.

This card with this name on it which we waited for for 12 years because no matter what the social workers tell you, it isn’t as easy as it should be to get your child’s social security card with his name on it after the adoption is finalized because government agencies can be so frustratingly dumb sometimes. But not Maria at the Manteca Social Security Administration office. Sure it took her several hours to figure a way around the bureaucratic walls but she did it because, as she humbly put it, “there’s always a way around walls.”

Remembering when you said you couldn’t wait for your kid to outgrow his shoes and clothes before they wear out when you see that the shoes that you just got him are too small. Human Growth Hormones, we are so thankful especially when you see your son’s height and weight plotted at <1%ile on the growth chart because look at that, the kid is almost finally plotting on the normal growth chart!

Pretty scarves and jewelry and makeup and clothes that flatter what your mama gave you, no matter what your age is, that you wear for no other reason than because you want to; which has nothing to do with completely unwanted attention from any stranger who imagines that you got all dressed up because you want their attention.

Yeah.

No.

Taking the time to catch part 3 of the 4 part Hunger Games Trilogy with this child of yours because that is what the two of you do together after the husbands and kids are asleep.

Running this for the third holiday season because otherwise you might just murder someone…or at least given them a really big hug with your hands around their neck because it is the holidays and because you like to eat and to drink because it is the holidays and because you like to run…a lot.

Moments of relaxation and the cat who makes you sit still and enjoy them. I plan to do just that today after I run a 10K and get Thing 1 and Thing 2 into the oven.

Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

 

are you that blogger?

Are you that blogger who celebrates when your kids return to school after Fall Break?

Are you that blogger with the cat who is literally the nosiest neighbor on the block always looking out the window observing everyone’s business?

Are you that blogger who’s daughter was in a Fall fashion photo spread in last weekend’s Manteca Bulletin?

Are you that blogger who joined the local PTA and received a thank you free ice cream cone from Baskin Robbins just for joining?

Are you that blogger who is soon to achieve “crazy cat lady” status downloading a cat toy app on your iPad?

Are you that blogger who wears fancy tights when she runs and does lunges and squats?

Are you that blogger who was excused from the jury box during jury selection when the plaintiff’s attorney asked you if you were that blogger named Laura Scarborough?

Good for her for doing a Google search during the two day selection process. Hopefully I didn’t bore her too much with my navel gazing ramblings.

Are you that blogger” status unlocked…and it only took me ten years.

life as the plumber’s wife

A mid-day text message conversation between a plumber and his adoring wife:

So the faucet in the kitchen sink has been leaky the past couple of days and it is getting worse. Zelda likes it.

But it has literally filled up a cup within the last half hour just dripping.

Do you know a good plumber?

No.

Try Angie’s List.

:::silence:::

I’ll correct the aforementioned defect when I get home.

Are you a good plumber?

Well, I’m cheap.

That’s what she said!

[/rimshot]

 

 

 

 

noise cancelling shoes

They look like an ordinary pair of Asics running shoes but they aren’t. They are literally noise cancelling shoes…very well worn noise cancelling shoes because self care for me is the ability to walk…to run…miles and miles.

Remember all those half marathons and other races that I ran where I collected all those amazing medals after crossing the finish line?

What?

No?

You don’t?

Well, I do as I see all those once shiny, blingy medals every day collecting dust hanging out of sight in my walk-in closet. I hear them too as well as the ten of them that live in my closet clank against one another reminding me of what I did. What I can do. What has been literally my therapy for such a very long, long time.

I don’t run in half marathons anymore for many reasons. The biggest reason is I just can not afford to anymore. But I do still run. All the time. Any chance that I can.

Self mental health care.

But truth be told, the endorphins release is no longer enough. It hasn’t been for months and months. But I still run because I need to because it is something that I can do. Something that I can do now and do pretty well.

Years and years ago, after the birth of one of the many babies I birthed, I was being treated for post partum depression. My doctor wanted to add medication to my treatment but I refused for quite some time because I was breastfeeding my baby and I had concerns about the effect the meds might have on my nursing infant. Still the doctor pushed back. Finally I confessed that at that moment and every day I knew for sure the one thing that I could do right was feed my baby. Everything else I did, or didn’t do, was open for scrutiny and critique but feeding my baby was the one thing that only I could do and I did it very well. And so my doctor agreed.

Now I run. I have ran for over 4 years and have run a lot. Running for the dopamine release and running to cancel out the noise, the noise always in my head that mocks, jeers, derides, scoffs at anything I think or feel or do.

Today the noise was especially loud so I laced up these shoes and walked and ran and walked for what ended up being nearly ten miles because step by step, mile after mile, the noise was not there. Cancelled. I needed that noise to be out of my head today. Desperately so. So I ran longer than I had planned for.

Tomorrow I imagine that my body will hate me.

Oh well.

As for me I will be grateful for my noise cancelling shoes.

Oh, and for the kitty photo bomb too.