Set it and forget it

As the time between blog posts indicates, I've been pretty swamped with a new new job, my baby, my husband, 8-day power outages, family illness, and weekend getaways. I keep thinking things will slow down soon, but they don't! And my 5:50am alarm sure does go off early.

My new job is going well. The last few days have been very busy, which I like, because the day just flies by. I ate lunch at 2pm today. That never happens. My clock strikes breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I look forward to each meal, and have always reacted to those who claim "I just forgot to eat!" with sincere skepticism. Today I didn't forget to eat, I was just trying to finish a few things before I took lunch.

One bummer is that I now work full-time. I'm the first to admit, I had a very lovely on-ramp back to work after I had Edie. Following my maternity leave, I worked three days a week for about 10 months. In between jobs and newly planted in CT, I had July off, then began working a four-day week. A full year after going back to work, I'm a full-timer again. I'm certainly not the first mom to do it, but I really did enjoy my days home with Edie.

I miss my girl but have been streamlining operations at home to make room for hanging out. For example, we hired a bi-weekly (not live-in, unfortunately) housekeeper on a friend's recommendation, and her rates are totally affordable. I've also been trying to order groceries online. The housekeeper is going well, but the food delivery has not totally taken hold. I have two gripes with Peapod: when something I order is out of stock, they don't provide an alternative. I ordered one type of eggs the other night, and they were back-ordered or something, so I got no eggs. They should just send a comprable carton of eggs. And, what's with the 89 plastic bags? Ever heard of Mother Earth?

Also on my streamlining to-do list: sign up for delivery dry cleaning. They pick up and drop off for no extra charge. Seems too easy.

To counter my new commute, which for the first time ever is in a car, I intend to download episodes of This American Life and KEXP's Music That Matters podcasts. KEXP is a wonderful, unique Seattle-based radio station that I really miss. CT radio makes me want to cry a little, or get satellite radio.

Lastly, Dave and I have started a new family work-out routine. We're training for the Manchester Road Race on Thanksgiving Day, and have been running with Edie after work. We bought some reflective gear and a flashing light for her jogging stroller. Although it's already dark at 5, we stick to the main roads and wear our shiny gear as we run around the 'hood together.

Leonard Cross-Country Team

I had spent three months preparing: running four times a week, sprinting around the local track once or twice, downloading Beyonce into my "get psyched" mix, buying new sneaks, and avoiding bending to low cabinets in an effort to preserve my knees.

I put my training to the test for 13.1 miles on Saturday, and I'm now the proud bearer of a Hartford Half Marathon medal. I came in at 1:58:19.
Not bad for a baby mama. (I have a friend who swears childbirth makes you stronger...maybe so. It definitely grooms your ability to use a 'mind over matter' approach).

As usual, on race day I was running late. Aunt Kitty and my parents were waiting out front while I tore through our house, gathering my bib, fleece, Gu Chomps (super-powered gummi food), and headphones. And cell phone. And chapstick.

We were all nervous en route to Hartford, where much of the city was preparing for the event (including a marathon, half marathon, 5K, and kids' 1K). For example, my dad wouldn't stop talking. Before my mom hit him over the head with a Clif Bar, we scored a parking spot and set off the find Kevin and Janice, my mom's brother who forbids us from calling him 'uncle', and his partner. They were planning to park their RV across from the Bushnell.

They welcomed us into the pre-race RV, where jitters were palpable. Kevin was running the full-marathon, and the rest of us had our own goals to achieve. No matter which race you're prepared for, there's gonna be a knot in your stomach. (Bigger knots for longer races? Not sure.) No one had the appetite for food or coffee, so we snapped a few pics and joined the throngs of well-toned athletes.

Mom, Dad, and Kitty went their way, and Kevin and I got in the queue together. I asked what his goal was. He said "Honestly, to finish. But if I had my drothers, under 4:30". When he asked mine, I said, "Under 2". We bumped fists, I turned up Rihanna, stretched, and prepared for the gun.

The beginning of a road race doesn't start with a mad dash. It's slow for the first half mile or so, as people spread out from underfoot. It's a tangled mess, and hard to get your tempo going. But it was a beautiful, sunny day, and my friend Laurie came up behind me to say hi within the first mile, and I got into a groove with my music. There were also onlookers cheering, holding signs, some playing music, and little kids held out their hands, vying for a high five. Personally, the audience is crucial to getting a good pace going and maintaining a steady pace. An enthusiastic crowd makes me want to run faster and taller.

After going through the West End of Hartford, the course went around our neighborhood for miles 6-8. I told Dave that I'd be at the water station at the end of our street between 8:45 and 9:15. Pretty broad window but I really wasn't sure. I kept looking at my watch as I got nearer, wanting to impress him by arriving on time. I also really needed to use the Port-o-Potty, and was honestly wondering if I could run to our house ever so quickly...

I was totally pumped to see Dave and Edie, and that made me run confidently. However the lower-intestine cramps that I'd tried to push out of my mind since the starting block weren't subsiding. I paid a visit to the Johnny-on-the-Spot at mile 7. No harm, no foul. I jumped right back into the race feeling about 2 lbs lighter.

Not long thereafter, I hit an incline. A woman in a competitive-type wheelchair pushed up next to me, and struggled, but she kept pushing uphill. I knew Dave and Edie would be down the street, so I powered through. Seeing the mile markers pass helped. They were coming up pretty easily. I saw Dave and Edie twice more. Edie rang a cowbell, and Dave was super supportive, so that gave me some fuel.

Things started to slow down at mile 11. The mile markers seemed to spread out, and instead of cursing the race I did some self congratulating: "Shawna, you're so awesome. Look at you, you're running this race and you're keeping a great time! You rule." That was my inner dialogue, which brought me to mile 12, then 13. The crowd of onlookers was thicker, I heard someone cheer my name, and then- voila- the finish line! My parents and Kitty met me outside the gate, surprised I was done already.

We recovered and went to watch for Kevin and the other marathoners. He finished with flying colors in under 4 hours. The race was an awesome event that brings out some big emotions. I wanted to cry watching every third person cross the finish line: they're overweight, they're old, they're holding hands, oh my goodness, isn't humanity something else? It really does tug at something deep, and I can't wait to do my next race.

I'll see you at Manchester...

a home of one's own

Today was a success because I went running after an unintended four-day haitus, I ate at least two vegetables, and Edie and I got some good playin' in after work.

Also, I'm finally blogging about our new home after four weeks of keeping my faithful readers in the dark.

The house was in "turnkey" condition when we bought it meaning we opened the door, moved our stuff in, and parked our butts on the couches that were left behind. The woman who sold us our house kept the place immaculate. Let's call her Maureen. Maureen was an avid gardener, and a very generous woman who sold us pretty much any furniture (indoor and out) that we wanted. Did I mention she loved gardening?

I am absolutely confident that I'll kill the garden in two months flat. Frankly I can't believe the greenery is still green. Maureen swore that it was a breeze to keep up, which I'm sure is true if I had 4 hours of weekend time to weed and prune rose bushes. My one hope is that Edie will chill in the Ergo while I bumble around, armed with shears and a big brown bag for collecting weeds (my hope is equally for me and for the baby).

So far we've painted our dining room. And by 'we' I mean my mom and dad, who have also re-wired our front porch light, dismantled and remantled our bedroom furniture to get it up the stairs, and hung our t.v. I've bought one new piece of art, which I'm anxiously awaiting, and could drop some serious moolah on home decor, no problem. But I'm honoring our budget so we're stuck with curtains of the Great Aunt variety, at least for a little while.

I am truly ecstatic that we finally own a home. I've been a renter for ten years, and although I've had a pretty good string of landlords, it's awesome to not have to ask if I can paint the walls, to have ample storage, and to not have a front door in the kitchen (I'm talkin' about you, Densmore Ave). I'll post more photos soon, but I hope this gives you a peep into the totally rad home we're calling our own.

Days Gone By

My Aunt Monique just passed away at age 43.

My dad came by yesterday to dismantle our box spring, which didn't fit up the stairs. We chatted a bit, while I was getting ready to meet my uncle for a run in the res. My dad called me out to the garage, and he was obviously upset. He said, "My sister died." I immediately guessed Monique, and good thing, because my dad has six sisters, and that wouldn't be a fun game.

(she's second to left)

Monique was the youngest of the nine Michaud children. I remember her as a Conard High School cheerleader and camp counselor at Beachland Park. She had her own powder blue Honda Civic, a water bed, made lanyards, and had friends with '80s names like Susie and Lynn. Needless to say, I thought she was the coolest when I was in elementary school. I even had a short pleated wool skirt, which I considered my homage to Aunt Monique. (Also, my middle name is Monique, after her).

(she's the blonde on the left)

Upon graduating, Monique couldn't get out of the Connecticut fast enough, and enrolled at University of Central Florida. My parents took me and Ashley to Orlando when I was in third grade, and we crashed with Monique in her sunny Florida apartment. We all went to Disneyland and Sea World, and I wore my Thriller shirt for approximately four days straight. Monique had Alphabets cereal, which she kept on top of her fridge, and that was pretty enlightening when all I knew was Kix. Did I mention she had a sweet tooth? She had an unabashed big appetite for junk food.

During my senior year at Conard, my mom took me and Ashley to Florida again. By that time, Monique had graduated and was making big bucks, thanks to the late-90s real estate boom. She had a big home in a subdivision with a built-in pool. She was married to a nice guy and had a baby daughter, and a sharpei named Kong. She drove a Mustang convertible, had a hearty laugh, a big butt, and big blonde bangs. She was living the life, in that central Florida kind of way.

(still on the left, cheering on the Cheiftan hockey team)

I last saw Monique with her two kids at Ashley's wedding, two years ago. Monique was still fun loving, but she had packed on a lot of weight. Her glory days as a hot real estate agent were gone, and she had begun selling burial plots for a living. She was divorced, and remarried, and didn't have much to her name. Still, she met Dave and saw me pregnant, and it was nice to see her.

See died suddenly on Monday of a heart attack, after being hospitalized briefly a few months ago for an unknown heart condition, and a diabetes diagnosis. I feel bad for her kids the most. And it is strange that one of the nine Michaud kids is gone.

I prefer to think of her in her glory days, as the cute blonde cheerleader that she was. And she was the apple of Pepere's eye.

Cloudy with a Chance of Hype

There was a lot of hype the last few days about Hurricane Irene, and I must say, I'm a bit dissapointed. Multiple news outlets advised stocking up on water for three to four days, have

batteries locked and loaded, and avoid going outside at all costs. My mom and I went to the grocery store on Thursday to gather provisions, and the place was picked clean of water, flashlights, and Cheerios.

Luckily they still had cheddar cheese, Sierra Nevada, and Pantene shampoo, all key for survival. I even found a secret stash of bottled water in the baby aisle. Yes, Gerber markets this stuff to hyper-sensitive parents who want triple-distilled water for their young. People asked in hushed tones, "Where'd you get that water?!" I heard from friends that yesterday was even worse, that stores were picked over like Armageddon was nigh.

The news....I hate the news. It does nothing to improve the quality of my day. On one newscast, the reporter was on the beach standing in the water. He was about three feet from the dry shore. Really, must you stand in the water? I guess he was trying to prove that he truly was getting wet. On another newscast, the reporter beefed up the drama by stating that you could actually see the whitecaps in the Long Island Sound. I squinted and tried really hard, but couldn't make out more than some choppy water. The news is a joke.

Dave was skeptical the whole time. He did not buy the hype.

The winds were howling last night and the rain came down hard at times, but this storm was supposed to bring us to our knees. I was playing out scenarios of leaping from bed to save Edie if a branch came flying threw the window, and playing cards in the basement by candlelight. We lost power for about a minute at 6am, and I was almost disappointed that the lights were ablaze all day. I mean, I love hot coffee and an Egg McChaud just as much as the next guy, but a storm can be fun when you have to adapt without everyday luxuries. Granted, major weather can cause serious damage but this one just lost its luster. I know we're lucky, we were just bracing for a bit more adventure.

One year

Happy (belated) birthday to our beautiful little girl, Edie Harper! They say it goes fast, and it does. The long, brutal nights and her falling asleep on our chests seem long ago. Now she's putting pasta on a spoon and cruising around in her beloved shoes (with assistance). What's in store for next week?

Chicken Soup for The Mattress

I was just waiting for this to happen. While things have been going pretty well with our POD, every time we request it be removed from its warehouse home (via forklift) feels like a roll of the dice. Keeping our somewhat organized chaos in order seems less and less realistic as we remove and replace this huge box from its towering POD stack.

You've heard horror stories of storage units: mice establish new colonies in your mattress, valuable files succomb to stinky mildew, your wardrobe becomes moth heaven. People's stories never seem to end well. Today Dave visited our POD with the hopes (ahem, very high hopes) of getting his classroom materials out. The stuff was packed in a box, in a wardrobe behind a lot of other big items. He didn't get his materials but he DID find an exploded box of chicken stock (thanks to the humitidy), that blew up on top of a bookshelf and attracted hordes of gnats.

Although it stinks (literally), it could be worse. Dave got some fly strips to catch the buggers but I called PODs immediately and asked for them to deliver it ASAP. They said "How about tomorrow?" and I said "Sure!" Where will we put all of our stuff? Guess we'll just push my parents basement around a bit. There really isn't room, but leaving our stuff in the bug-infested chicken soup container will be a death sentence.

I've been thinking of the tangible things I miss. It'll be nice to have them back when the POD arrives.

1. My contacts. I somehow ripped my monthly contact one week into their use, and have been running with my glasses, which fog up and slip down when I get sweaty. Also hard to water-ski with blurry vision. And I've been wearing my sunglasses over my glasses like a huge nerd.

2. My radio. This goes beyond just having music in the house. I miss our music set-up, and I miss Seattle radio station KEXP. I commute 25 minutes each way to work, and the state of local radio is getting me down. I'm seriously thinking about paying for Sirius. But on the positive side I'm caught up on the news thanks to NPR.

3. My straw hat. Critical summer accessory.

4. Our bed. A bed is pretty personal, and we like ours.

5. My recipes. I have a killer Mexican corn-on-the-cob recipe that I don't feel like digging around for online. Our summer has sadly lacked Mexi-corn.

6. My USB cord, so my blog posts aren't so spartan. Sorry.