Cautious optimism & a blabbermouth

Hank

First off, the good news: Hank's headache is marginally better. To plagiarize an earlier comment to this blog, sometimes all you get are baby steps. And these baby steps are in the right direction, so we're cautiously optimistic. Last night, Hank laughed. I was downright shocked at the sound. She hasn't laughed in so long, it really was music to my ears.

Of course, now that she's feeling a little less horrible, Hank is able to stress about the mountains of work she has to make up. It's pretty daunting but she'll get through it. I didn't exactly tell her that I don't care what her grades are - and after more than 8 weeks of this migraine trouble, I really DON'T care at this point, I'm just glad she's back in school - but I did talk to her about doing her best and moving on instead of stressing about it.

Better days for Hank, hangin' with her laser dogs

Abner

Abner, my youngest, is the best girl-child ever. With all of Hank's doctor appointments and so many cancelled plans over the last few weeks, Abner has never once complained or blamed her sister. My sweet baby!

Abner - all smiles on her birthday

Last year, one of Abner's friends at school got super-clingy, to the point that there was a serious "ick" factor. This particular kid has got it rough at home, and we love her dearly, so we didn't say anything. There is just no way to say to a child, "We love you, now BACK OFF." Abner toughed it out last year without saying anything to the Clinger.

This year, they have the same class again. I decided to get all Proactive Parent and asked the teacher for a private, confidential conversation. She pledged confidentiality and I asked if Abner and the Clinger could just NOT be in the same groups all the time. I gently explained that we love the Clinger and don't want her to be hurt, so dear Teacher please use your judgment and maybe help Abner get some space. My goal was to avoid Abner telling the Clinger to take a hike.

Which brings us to today. Abner just came home to inform me that the Clinger came up to her, sobbing, and apologized for being too clingy last year. Abner was embarrassed, the Clinger was heartbroken and I am furious. No one, and I mean NO ONE, knew about the conversation I had with that teacher.

She blabbed.

Stay tuned for a rundown on the upcoming parent-teacher conferences - I'm sure the subject of the Clinger will come up.

I dreamed

I dreamed that I ran. My legs and lungs felt so strong, the sun was shining and I was so happy. No PTSD-angered hubs, no sick child, no mean mom. Not even any chub rub. It was breathtaking.

Then I woke up and was horrified with myself. How dare my subconscious take a break from this? I felt so guilty.

But oh, what a glorious run it was.

Dangling...

My 14yo has had a migraine for over 6 weeks now. You read that correctly. SIX WEEKS. The neurologist we've been seeing doesn't seem to get it. We see him every couple of weeks, she's no better, he changes the meds, and nothing changes. She can't do any physical activity because it makes the pain worse. This bright, shiny girl who runs cross country and plays basketball and loves to be outside is gone, replaced by a poor thing who says, "Mom, my head hurts so bad," and can't stand bright light or loud noise. My heart is breaking.

The doc put her on daily meds that don't seem to help, so he increased the dose last week and PRESTO! There's a drug interaction and the side effects from the pain meds are much, much worse. Nausea and stomach pain top the list. So she gets to decide every day if she would rather have a vise on her head or a knife in her gut.

To top it all off, something is interacting with her birth control pills, so she's having a horrible period right in the middle of all of this crap. When she shouldn't even be having a period yet.

I called the doc when the latest trouble started. No response. His nurse even called me Tuesday afternoon to apologize because the dr wasn't responding. I called Wednesday, and he's out - and no other dr in the practice would see her. So we went to the ER, where an IV took care of the nausea and pain for a few hours, but today we're back to square one. The ER doc wouldn't change her daily meds, said we had to talk to the neurologist about that.

He has finally got time to see us this afternoon. In the meantime, I've gone back to the GP to get a referral to a neurologist at a children's hospital about an hour away. That's all set but they can't see us until October 1st. Which means I can't pulverize the current neuro just yet - will have to play nice until we can get away from him.

The last 72 hours have been horrific. Trying to be strong and calm in front of the kid. Resisting the urge to scream at receptionists when I know it is not their fault. Looking desperately around for someone to HELP US and tell me what to do. Fighting back tears of helpless rage every time I try to explain the problem to yet another doctor or nurse. Narrowly avoiding killing Hubs last night when he said, "She just needs to drink more water."

And, above all, dangling from the end of my rope.

The photo that (hopefully) starts it all

OK, this is it. Sweating heavily and gasping for air, I'm heaving myself back onto the Fitness Wagon, now that I've completed the Summer of Medicating Myself with Food. I can continue the excuses: One of my kids has had a migraine for 6 weeks (and counting), my mother has nodes on her thyroid (whatever that means) and she also has cirrhosis of the liver, my husband's PTSD still rears its ugly head at the worst possible times and my dog has a degenerative spinal condition that is slowly killing him. And, right when I was set to start training for a fall half marathon, I sabotaged myself with this hot mess.

But, eh, everyone has trouble. With all the living beings, both sickly and healthy, that depend on me, there is no excuse for letting things go this way. No excuse for zero exercise and daily drive-thru lunches. No excuse for smuggling candy bars into my office to scarf down in private while tears run down my increasingly round cheeks. And the donuts -- ah, the donuts. My mom (also known as "Doom," if you follow me on Twitter) gave my youngest daughter a recipe book that includes how to make donuts. Homemade donuts? I didn't have a chance.

As with so many people, my decision to get off this crapcycle of misery 8 eating 8 misery is motivated by a photo. Not a photo of my double chin or my expanding waistline, though. No, this was a completely innocent set of photos of the dogs. We're taking extra pics of Sarge, our black-and-tan German shepherd and Best Dog in the Universe, because we're not sure how much longer he'll be with us due to his spinal problems. Looking over the latest

batch of photos, I came across this:

Whose pudgy fat knees and cankles are those? Imagine the gasp when I realized those gams are MINE. Even at my sloppiest, I've had good calves and ankles and could totally rock four-inch Do Me Pumps. But those days are gone, buried under three months of Twinkies and Pepsis from the gas station. This photo floored me.

And, I believe, it has motivated me to get my act together.

First step: Get back out on the road and RUN, dammit. This week the goal is a run or an elliptical workout every day for 5 days. There is some diet clean-up involved, such as a moratorium on value meals, but the heavy nutrition overhaul comes next week once I've had a chance to stock up on food that won't kill me slowly.

Stay tuned to hear (and see) how I do, hopefully with a minimum of whining. I wonder how much weight I'll have to lose in order for it to show in my CALVES. We'll find out together!

Excuses, excuses

All summer -- or, so far this summer -- I've had all kinds of excuses not to run. Hot weather, business travel, sick kids, and did I mention it's so freakin' HOT? But last week, I laced up my Brooks and hit the road. It felt so darn good to run! I got four good cardio workouts in last week, plus a weight session with Ryan the UberTrainer, so I thought I was back on the exercise wagon.

Nope.

Last weekend, my husband's company took a half dozen execs and their wives on a weekend trip to celebrate some achievement award. Sounds great, right? Sure, until said weekend involves walking to dinner IN THE RAIN to a restaurant that is ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN. For once, I was not wearing sneakers in my effort to dress like a grownup and look nice for hubs and his work buddies.

So, while I looked fantastic, I did this to my heel:

I know, tres sexy, right? By the time I clued in to the fact that the cute shoes were not just uncomfortable, they were creating bodily injury, this damage was done. I'm in flip-flops for the next few days at least.

And no, I did not shave my legs before taking this pic because I am just that classy.

School's almost out and it's KILLING ME

What has happened to the last week of school? It is a nightmare, that's what. Stuff is going on every. single. day. This is nuts! I'm self-employed, so I have a little schedule flexibility, but still this is insane.

Here is the family schedule when you have an elementary student and a jr high student in this neck of the Overscheduled Woods:

Friday

• Jr High field trip to amusement park - BTW, the school allowed a kid who is not a student go on this trip. Excuse me? I've busted my tail on fundraisers and now we're adding to the guest list? And, is this kid an axe murderer? I feel a letter coming on.
• Elementary spring program - Singing and squeaking clarinets, O Joy. I laughed while the beginning band played because I am The Worst Mom Ever.
• Swing by Sam's Club for industrial size Excedrin bottle
• Emergency shopping trip because Abner has outgrown all swimwear in the house and Hank is down to one pair of pants that are still long enough - What are we feeding these kids?

Monday

• Jr High exams start - Which should tell you how the weekend went. Me, downstairs, yelling at the ceiling: "Turn off the iPod and study already!"
• Jr High cookout - So Hank comes home hopped up on root beer.
• Elementary swim party - Hence the aforementioned swimwear emergency.
• Race to complete invention for elementary project, due tomorrow - DH was in charge of this and spent three hours last Saturday. They still didn't finish. Are you kidding? Three hours is enough time for an invention, a couple of Spirit Week costumes and maybe a diorama if you hustle.

Tuesday

• Jr High exams and THANK GOD nothing else today for Hank.
• Elementary "Invention Convention" in the gym - come see what all the little darlings have invented and listen to their speeches. Let's be honest, shall we? I don't care what your kid made. I just want to look at my kid's stuff, make the appropriate noises, and LEAVE.

Wednesday

• Jr High exams continue
• Elementary kickball tournament - I know. I don't get it, either.
• Speed-shopping trip to the store because Abner has outgrown her sneakers and her dress shoes.

Thursday

• Jr High exams - last day!
• Elementary Field Day - BTW, school guys, when I write on my volunteer form that I don't want to be a team leader, it's because I DON'T WANT TO BE A TEAM LEADER. We won't have a cheer ready by noon and we sure won't have the memorization done yet because, like the 5th graders, I'm in it for the games and the Kool-Aid. You've been warned. My team will suck. Go, Aqua!
• Diving class

Friday

• Jr High awards program - I can always hope!
• Jr. High cookout
• Elementary awards program - Again with the hope...
• Leave for long weekend trip to the wilderness, because I've been able to pack for a family of 4 in my SPARE TIME this week. Wonder what I'll lose on the kayak trip THIS year?

Probably my sanity...

Where is the "running" portion of our program? Well, there isn't one this week thanks to a -- you guessed it -- school activity. I was rushing around a week ago to help with a fair and 5K at school and neglected to change into running socks before the 5K. Massive blister has me sidelined, which, now that I think about it, might be why I'm so stressed.

Ah, springtime.

The Indy not-so-Mini

All right, so this race was in MAY and it is now JULY (though this post is in my May timeline because I started in May, and just finished it now - confused yet?). Stop judging me, and here we go...

The "Indy Mini" is the largest half marathon in the U.S., with something like 36,000 runners and walkers. Here's the story of one:

My teenage daughter, Hank, and I drove to Indianapolis on Friday so we wouldn't have to get up on race day at three-thirty in the morning. We stayed home last year and, because we witnessed a highway crash and stopped to help, almost missed the start of the '09 race. So, a hotel this year.

Here's how Friday went:

7:30 am - Deliver Hank and Abner to school

8:00 am - Throw myself on the mercy of Trainer Ryan, who "went easy" on me because of tomorrow's race. Ryan is half my age, 100x fitter, and obsessed with Halloween.

10:00 am - Run a couple of errands, pack for the trip.

11:30 am - Pick up Hank from school; she is sick and throwing up. What the school neglects to mention is that she is also upset because she thinks I won't let her run the Mini tomorrow if she barfs. So she's horking and hysterical.

12:30 pm - Having talked Hank in off the ledge, I get her to take a nap while I finish our packing. While she sleeps, her grandmother and I plot our if-Hank-is-too-sick-to-run contingency plans.

4:00 pm - Drive a pale-but-recovering Hank to Indy.

5:00 pm - Check in at the Sheraton. Fortified with chicken nuggets, Hank is much improved. The hotel guy who checked us in tries his best to get 5'7" Hank to tell her age. She just smiles at him. If he knew she was only 14, I hope he would be ashamed of himself. Surely the five pounds of eyeliner is a dead giveaway that she's a KID. And he should be very thankful that Hank's Marine Uber-Dad was not there to get offended and kill him on the spot.

Let's pause here for a shout-out to the Sheraton City Centre in Indianapolis. Aside from Desk Guy On The Make, this hotel was fabulous! We had the most amazing night's sleep and we were only a few blocks from the start line.

On race day, we met 36,000 of our closest friends at the start line:

And we ran this course. See the oval in the top left of the map? That's a lap of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Very cool!

Since we've already talked about barf and horny desk clerks, I'll spare you a mile-by-mile breakdown of this half marathon. Here's all you need to know:

1. At mile 10, I realized I had not walked AT ALL, not even at water stops (though I got water up my nose in two near-drowning incidents). Big smile from here all the way to the end.

2. No shuffling at the finish. I wasn't sprinting, but I wasn't limping either.

3. I beat my personal best for this half marathon by 13 minutes. That's right, I shaved 13 minutes off my best half marathon time! Not too shabby for a 40-year-old chub who loves donuts.

4. Hank didn't run well, for her, and she beat me by less than a minute. Yes, I know she had been sick but still - I almost caught my kid today!

5. If you must know, my time was 2h 44m. I'm not setting any speed records but I ran the entire way, so Yay Me! My new goal is to get to 2h 30m. Maybe next year!

And finally, if you made it all the way to the end of this post, your reward is a pic of me, being a dork at the finish. Enjoy!