My Road to 70.3

Fact:  I am almost 44 years old and have been a triathlete for almost 7 years.

Fact: I am still challenging myself in my sport. 70.3 is up next.

Me and my Tri Teammates, the K's

I've lost count of all the races I've completed.  My medal hanger is overloaded.  I had to stop hanging my race numbers because it started to look like wallpaper.  I've done many Sprint distance triathlons, mini, regular and super, and several Olympic distance triathlons.  I've done duathlons, tri-relays and half marathons, and swim-only races.

I've always said I'm not great at any one of the three sports, but I'm pretty good at all three together.  I don't race to win, but it's nice if I get a top ten age group place, or as with my relay team, an actual top 3 medal.

The fun of triathlon is training with my friends, discussing our triumphs and our disasters, and being outside moving and enjoying exercise.  I can chat up a stranger at a race expo, or a bike shop or running store, because once you race triathlon, you just KNOW.

My tri-buddies come in all shapes and sizes.  Some have done mini-tri's and I respect them deeply for doing it.  Some have done the big daddy, Ironman, and I am in awe.  My bestie K started training for her first Sprint tri with me one year, and within the next year she'd completed several Sprints and an Olympic tri (which I hadn't done yet even after 3 years of racing) and then she signed herself up for Ironman! Whoa!

Ironman K

I watched her train, mostly alone, because the schedule for Ironman is relentless and time-sucking.  I would meet her on her long runs to run alongside for the time period I had available, and then she would continue running to get her planned miles done.  Finally she went to her race.  Me and our other relay teammate went later in the day to find her on the Ironman course.  No point in going until the end of her bike course (112 freaking miles) because we'd never see her.  So we positioned ourselves to cheer her through the marathon.  Late into the evening we cheered her every time she came by.  We cheered even louder when she ran through that finish line, and became an IRONMAN.  Truly awesome.

My busy-mom schedule does not realistically have space for Ironman 140.6.  But I have allowed myself the challenge to find the time for Ironman 70.3.  The Half-Ironman.  Not enough to get the M-dot tattoo, but still nothing to snort at.  I watched several of my friends do the Galveston Ironman 70.3 two years ago and I knew I could do it.  Now in 2014, I am.  Luckily I have a huge group of training buddies also doing it, so there is no shortage of training-mates.  No excuses either.

Its the end of January already, and the race is April 6th.  I thought, oh April that's 4 months after the new year.  Um, not really.  April 6th is right at the beginning of April so really we had 3 months.  I was running and biking before Jan 1st, but not consistently.  I ran a tough half-marathon in December.  But that isn't training for 70.3.

My weeks now consist of weekday running and swimming (at the pool since its cold), and biking on weekends.  Its still getting dark by 6pm so biking after work is out of the question.  The alternative? The dreaded bike trainer, indoors.  My bike mounted on a contraption that allows me to pedal as long as I want.  I've gotten a total of 30 minutes on there so far.  So boring and unrewarding.

I can run anytime but still choose to go after work, trying to beat sunset.  I look for hills and have even done some speed work at the track.  I'm kind of doing running workouts loosey-goosey without a plan . I know this isn't recommended but I get in what I can.  If I was a SERIOUS Ironman-in-training, I'd be getting my ass out of bed at 5am and running a set amount of time on a set amount of days.  Apparently I'm not that serious because I prefer to sleep at 5am.  In my defense, I consider sleep part of my training too.

I go to the pool and swim.  I do the swim workouts I learned while taking a 5:45am adult master's swim class these last two summers.  I put in the laps and stretch my arms and legs out to try to go faster.  I never have been a fast or efficient swimmer, and I probably won't improve that much, but I get through my long swims in a good enough time to not worry about a cut-off time in an Ironman race.  And it feels good.

In Texas this year it's been colder than usual this winter.  Bike rides have been harder to come by.  I'm generally not going to ride in weather cooler than 40 degrees.  I know triathletes and cyclists in other states probably think I'm ridiculous.  You all bundle up with multiple layers and boot covers to get out and ride in sub-30 degrees.  Good for you! I'm waiting til later in the day or another day to ride.  So far I've gotten several cool 25+milers in, and plan to build up to 50 and 60 milers in these next months.  That's also 3-4 hours of my Saturdays or Sundays (or both), so it comes when the kids' schedules allow.

This is my hometown beach, Galveston

My first 70.3.  I picked the Memorial Hermann Ironman 70.3 Texas in Galveston. I grew up on Galveston Beach.  I was there volunteering and cheering for my friends 2 years ago and know what it looks like.  It's a flat run and bike course and the swim is in the warm-ish Galveston Bay.  That April I was there I watched the pros, like Lance Armstrong and Chris O'Donnell (who won) do it in under 4 hours.  My friends did it in under 7 hours.  It was a long, hot day for them, but I stayed to see them finish and I can visualize that while I prepare for my race.

I have SWAM 1.2 miles before.  I have BIKED 56+ miles before.  I have RAN 13.1 miles before.  I have not tried to do all of the above in a span of 7 hours in one day.  My brick-workouts will get more intense and more time-consuming.  I will have to pick and choose my social activities these next few months and watch what I eat and drink.  I will have to plan nutrition on the long bike rides and runs.  I will have to get my wetsuit out and head into the lake to open-water-swim.  I have 10 weeks to be ready.

I can do this.

My Joy Coaching Winning Kids

I have had great coaches in the past.  I have worked alongside great coaches.  I am a coach.

My girls started getting interested in sports by ages 4 or 5 and every time I'd go to sign them up for a sport, there was always a need for parent volunteer coaches.  Lil Lady's first cheer squad was headed up by a parent volunteer coach, and I watched and then later helped get the girls organized, so by the next season I felt ready to volunteer myself, with another helper-parent.  Three practices a week and games on Saturday, we did just fine.  And I was hooked.

I admit, I love the Coaching Glory

I liked the control of leading the practices, the breaking lessons down, the disciplining of the kids to make them take it seriously, and watching them finally "get it".  There's nothing more frustrating than watching a teacher or coach do poorly at teaching and kids playing around or half-assing it.  Not my charges. I demanded excellence, but not before starting at the beginning.

After the hot, sweaty practices and games of Pop Warner Cheer, I was thrilled to see my oldest become interested in volleyball, my own favorite sport.  I played volleyball in middle school, but not high school. Then I picked it back up in college and after college and have never stopped.  I love the strategy and skill of a team of individuals ebbing and flowing to cover the court and make the play.  Its truly a beautiful sport to watch.  

We signed Lil Lady up at age 7 at the local rec center, where I was already playing on adult open play night, so one of my friends from open play wanted me to coach both our daughters together.  My Lil Lady's kneepads were as over-sized as her game shirt, but she was ready to be a "Tiger", the team name the girls picked out for themselves. She had some skill already, having played with Mom before.  She was naturally adept.  

With COACH across my back, I stood sideline to my friend head-coaching, and helped her teach these tiny 1st and 2nd graders how to bump and serve.  At that age, it was all about the serving.  The balls were big bouncy yellow things, and if hit correctly there was no problem sending them over the very low beginner net.  We taught them straight arms, bent knees, and moving to the ball while calling out "Mine!".  I don't remember the scores, but we did alright.  If by the end of the season all the kids were getting their serves over the net, and bumping somewhere in the vicinity of the court lines, we were pretty darn proud of ourselves as coaches.  My co-coach was as competitive as I am, so we applauded the great plays and good serves, and we constructively corrected the misses.  There was no forced smiles and fake clapping from us.  We were serious about making these little girls real volleyball players.

More seasons of Lil Lady playing all the way up to 10U volleyball and then Chillgirl, who had attended all the practices and games, was ready to play.  She was only 6, but already spot-on with hand-eye coordination and efficiency in passing a volleyball as well as serving.  Lil Lady was almost 10 and I was coaching her again in the Fall that year, and the rec director allowed me to start Chillgirl in the 8U division, knowing I had been coaching her for years already.  That season I double-dutied, head-coaching the 8U team, The Pink Ladies, and assistant-coaching Lil Lady's team (name forgotten since they changed names every season).  I worked my schedules so no games overlapped but I do remember changing colored coaches shirts in the bathroom to go from one game to the next.  And sometimes they weren't even at the same gym! 

Again starting back to basics with the 8 and unders, bumping and serving with the big yellow ball, while the 10U kids had moved on to the Volleylite white balls and more elaborate 3 bumps and over skills.  I loved both teams and although hectic, my weeks and Saturdays were full of rewards.

Lil Lady took a break from volleyball so I could devote my whole attention to Chillgirl and her teams.  I was able to get some of the same kids back each season, and made new friends with the parents.  The kids were more comfortable with me and the other kids they knew, but I always started the season's practices back at the basics.  Move the feet, shuffling side to side, front to back, arms out like a table-top when the ball is near (not while running), call your ball, and bend the knees to pass, not the arms.  Serving underhanded became old-hat, so overhand was the new challenge.  

I have been able to lead a team with one of the other mom's, who played volleyball in high school, as my co-coach for several seasons holding onto a core group of about 4 to 5 girls.  They could request me as their coach and the director usually accommodated.  Some girls came and went, never with hard feelings.  All the parents appreciated my patience and passion with their kids.  At some point we were winning more than losing and finally took first place in our division.  We were the Bluebonnets that season, and the name stuck.  We won the division with it, so I wasn't changing it. 

We're Number 1!!!

I was able to move us to the 10U division with a set team, meaning I could sign on up to 5 girls I wanted to bring.  This became a problem because more than 5 girls wanted to stay with me.  I had to choose and the director said no more than 5.  Right before registration was closed, one of my more skilled kids fell off a trampoline and broke her forearm.  Her mom assured me she'd be out of the cast before the 2nd or 3rd game.  We only have 8 weeks of games in our season, so that was keeping me short a player who MAY or MAY NOT be healed by the 3rd game.  I chose to cut her, and keep one of the others I knew would be able to play.  That mom wasn't happy with me and we are no longer friendly.  The kid played with another team and has since given me hugs when our paths have crossed.

Such is the hard knocks of coaching.

My Bluebonnets have stuck together, with a few additions and subtractions, for seven seasons and several divisions.  They have won their division 5 times.  We are at the top of the ranks in our current season, which was in a new 12U division, while all my players began the season at ages 10 and 11.  We thought we'd have a learning season to experience "playing up" to the middle school rules, with a higher net, harder ball, and new rotation scheme.  We definitely have had some tough games and played experienced girls, but our girls are experienced too...6 out of my 9 also play on Club volleyball teams.  We look good out there.  We get complemented.  Some parents have approached me, asking how can their kid learn to play like that?  

I am sad for kids who could be great players but end up with parent volunteer coaches who have never played the game.  Some parents recognize this early and get their kid out and pay more for a Club team, but some parents can't or don't understand it, and the kid can only go so far.  I can't coach them all.

 

Lil Lady has gone into a different league with new coaches, and Chillgirl is starting her second year on a Club team, because I recognize I can't teach them the advanced skills they need to move on up in the sport.  I am happy to give the kids playing time and more experience and coach them through their rec games in the off-season of their Club teams.  My heart swells with pride when they come from behind, or suck it up when they feel like pouting, and get the win.  

We win a lot.  When we don't they don't like it.  I tell them when we are lagging behind, don't look at that score board.  I don't care about those numbers.  I care about how you play each time the ball is on your side of the net.  Look at each other and talk to each other and be aware of your court lines.  Play smart.

It works every time.

They usually get the win.  They always remain a team.  I will never stop coaching them.  When they play on other teams with other coaches, I'm still screaming from the bleachers.  Their coaches know this, and since I say things that make sense, they allow it.  Some of my rec kids play along side Chillgirl on her team and they listen to me too.  I'm still their coach.

Now as my soon-to-be-7th-graders move on to try out for their middle school teams, I can be certain they are showing up at tryouts prepared.  Their new coaches will not have to work as hard with them.  I will silently think, "You're Welcome".

Then I will find a few 7 year olds in need of a coach and start again.

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

As I mentioned recently our household is a-changing...but it is also still the same.  It is still fiesty ole' me, the single Mom, and my two busy girls plugging away, each day much the same as the last.

I wish something like this still worked at our house...hmmm, wait, I don't see 
yelling on the list so this is not for us

Each week begins with a flurry of obligations and much the same routine that always includes work/school, volleyball, religious education, more volleyball, my training for triathlons, and more volleyball.  The girls are growing up, but they are still my same daughters.

Did I mention volleyball?

I expect Chillgirl will be in my bed come morning even though I refuse to let her start there.  To be honest, even though I discourage this behavior, I've been known to reach over to check if she's there in the wee hours of the morning, and wonder in puzzlement if she's not.  Before school, she takes several prompts to get up out of my cozy bed (she's not allowed to be cozy if I had to get up already!!!) and go get dressed.  One new change with her is she finally cares what she's wearing, and often changes her mind a few times before deciding on the same shorts she wore two days ago and one of five tshirts she rotates out religiously.  With a dresser FULL of cute shirts, pants, and shorts, she doesn't stray too far from her favorites.  Hair in a ponytail, brush teeth, and she's downstairs for breakfast.

Shopping is my LIFE!!

I expect Lil Lady to be a total teenager.  To NOT hear her own alarm and be still fast asleep when I open her door at the last possible minute she has before she's really late for the bus.  She must be yelled at repeatedly to get up before she misses it.  I tell her each night when she's still wandering around "getting ready" at 11pm that she will be sorry in the morning...and I'm always right, she is.  One change for her is her lack of interest in breakfast.  She was always the good little cereal-eater, maybe with a bit of fruit or a yogurt.  Now she takes so long to do her makeup and hair, I'm lucky to throw a waffle at her as she rushes out to the bus stop.  I constantly preach to her the benefits of a good breakfast for brain and body function, but at this age, make-up and cute shoes take precedence.


Changes have come about in my relationship with Sinatra as well.  We have fallen into our own routine in our post-legal-war lives.  His two youngest go with their mom every other week and his oldest stays with him full-time, unless Sinatra comes here to stay with me, and he then goes to his mom's or comes here with Dad.  That, and the not-so-rigid schedule me and my ex keep, means Sinatra and I have very few weekends where somebody's kids aren't hanging around.

Picture Perfect Santa Fe

So we plan our travels to get away from them it all.  This year we only got one itty-bitty ski trip in to New Mexico, sans kids, and with great friends (who had their kids).  We made the most of our time-off together, but often mentioned how much the kids would've loved it.

The kids weren't all in agreement on a ski trip for Spring Break so rather than spend that exorbitant amount of money and hear whining, we planned a short stay-cation in a nearby wine and hill country town.  We had a country house out in the sticks and the kids ran wild around the place, and Sinatra and I got to visit a few of the wineries.  Win-Win.

Hours of Monopoly...actually it was called Wineopoly

Another change Sinatra and I have made has been one of ATTITUDE.  Mine, mostly.  For all my relief from the divorce modification being over, I let negativity creep up on me and I started questioning what were we DOING? Living apart? Indefinitely? Why? Who does that?  I didn't sign up for this initially.  I wasn't asked my opinion on it when it was decided.

I blamed Sinatra for deciding with his ex what he could live with, but not considering what I could live with.  His ex cried her little fake tears and made promises (ones she has yet to keep) and got her way.  He is the nice one, the soft-heart, and she knew it, and she played him.  It pissed me off on so many levels.

I moped around and behaved horribly but when Sinatra finally had enough of my antics, we had a conversation about my anger and sullenness with him.  His answer? What else can I do here?  This situation is going as well as it can.  I am trying.

Are we going to keep doing this every few months?

Whoa.

Way to man-up and tell me like it IS.  He was right.  It IS what it IS.  You love me, or you leave me.  Pick.

Soon.

Now.

Something clicked after that.  In me, mostly.  I think he's known all along what he needed  to do.  His decision wasn't about me and him.  It wasn't about his ex.  It was about his kids.  They needed a decision. Nobody else in the situation was going to make it.  He had to.

Those three kids knew the turmoil going on in each of their parents and between their parents.  Mom was not going to be the bigger person and allow Sinatra anything he was asking for, so he had to be the compromiser.  I got caught up in what I lost in the deal, but now I finally understood we both lost, but the kids won.

I let go of my anger for the most part.  To Hell with their mom-- she may think she won, but she didn't either.  Yes, the kids are still living in town, but her one-big-happy-family fantasy will never happen again, and she knows it when she's ever being totally honest with herself.

Sinatra and me? We win, even though we lost.  We are sacrificing our time together to allow all five of our kids grow up in the homes they all have known since toddlerhood or earlier, the schools they know, around the friends they've grown up with, and with both parents nearby.  I was not willing to uproot my girls from all we know, and I know he really didn't want to either, no matter what he said.

Cookin' up grub for the childrens

Its OK.  I've changed my mind about what is my big-happy-family.  We have two homes.  We are a "WE".  His kids come to me and ask me things and tell me things and genuinely like to be around me.  They want to ride in my car or stay at my house, even without their dad.  My kids feel the same about Sinatra.  We are all so comfortable around each other, the weekends at home together or trips we take big or small, are full of laughter and play and yes, sometimes anger, but no one is afraid it will all fall apart.

I'm not.  Not anymore.  It's only going to strengthen and become more real.  We have new driver's licenses,  and new cars, and sports competitions, and high school graduations, and colleges to look forward to together.

Once our nests are empty?  It will be our time.

I pick LOVE. 

Peace and Love

How to Top 2012? More Love and Less Legal in 2013

Lady Bird Lake in May with all us Cap2Kers

2013 has snuck up on me fast and furiously.  I think I could hear the brakes squealing as November and December roared up, but I wasn't ready to have 2012 down in the memory books.  It was a whirlwind year.  Aside from all the stuff going on with Sinatra, mainly the legal shenigans that were a constant thorn in our sides, we managed a pretty good year together.  

Work rolled along steady, nothing new there.  I am actively searching for opportunities in teaching in my field but dutifully doing my same-ole, same-ole to keep the status quo.  I'm involved on the board of my state's audiology group and that has been an eye-opener in the span of my field's future.  No more head-in-the-sand mentality here.  Seeing how I'm slated to be the Prez next year, I've committed to staying informed from here on out.

I was able to get ready for my tri season with several long runs including a half-marathon and a 10-miler, a 2K lake-swim for prostate cancer, and a 150-mile bike ride for multiple sclerosis.  The tri season began and I went to a new level (for me) and competed in larger races to challenge myself.  I began swim lessons three times a week, and celebrated the year that had passed since I was dealing with breast cancer and going to radiation every day for 6 weeks.

Team Mighty Fine Cycling before the MS150

Travel was yet again my saving grace.  I was able to fit in two ski trips, one to Tahoe just Sinatra and I and our also-kidless friends, and one to Colorado with all the kids.   June brought another travel experience.. .Hello NOLA!  New Orleans with old high school buddies and lots of unmentionables.  Yes, at age 42+, we can still  have a weekend where we party like its 1986....we regress that much in a matter of a few hours and a few cocktails.

Sublimely happy to share this view
 with my girls

Late summer, Sinatra and I did a camping weekend with the kids, which was really a staycation in Waco for us. Its just too expensive and hard to please everyone to plan an elaborate week-long travel trip for a second time in one year.  We expend ourselves doing it for the ski trips and need a year to recover.   We managed a water park and cooking out and smores and sleeping 8 in a camper.  All in all super fun and hopefully a memory for them to cherish.


Side note: Does anyone see how many times I'm writing "we"? After my divorce it took a LOOOONG time to stop saying "we" and start saying "I" about everything I owned or did.  It used to be a conscious effort every time.  Guess that's all for nothing now that I'm back to a "we".  Its ok, I like it.

To cap off the summer Sinatra and I flew to Costa Rica.  Paradise, indeed.  It was a trip offered by my former boss and his family, and we couldn't refuse.  So glad we didn't.  My inner spirit was rejuvenated as we experienced the carefree beach life in Jaco.

Welcome to the Jungle....

The Fall is time for end of season triathlons and my racing buddies and I spent our last weekend in September making the most of a small-town but big-time tri, ignoring the wind, rain and cold, and warming up at one of the many wineries nearby in between events.  Enduring the weather during that sprint tri and relay-half-iron was its own tough-it-out challenge, but the company I kept made me so fulfilled and thrilled to be there.

This is me, looking for the wine.  Its promise led me to the finish, I'm sure 

They call this Smart Ass Red

Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled up, with both my girls' birthdays the end of the year is always here and gone in a blink of an eye. I will never have a breathe-easy, relax and think of the Reason for the Season as long as those girls keep having birthdays.  I told them this year, now that they are older and more interested in moula than toys, if they'd consolidate their birthday parties into a smaller group of girls, maybe out to dinner and a movie, rather than a huge production (we did TWO of those in a matter of 2 weeks), they might get some cashola in their stockings instead of Dollar-Store trinkets. 

At least that's what Santa told me.

But now its the new year, and since Sinatra's custody issues have been worked out, we are both much lighter for it.  His coming here bi-weekly on his off-kid weeks has been the best of both worlds.  I'm at work, he's working here when I get home, and its been real normal and calm.  Its a weird surreal feeling to be living in this new-fangled limbo, somewhere between living together and non-marriage, but then again, there isn't a timeline anymore and there isn't any rules we must adhere to, so who's judging?  

He's commuting for me and also his work, but since I'm not planning to make any moves closer to him either, then this is it.  Not really limbo.  Not really final either.  I sometimes allow myself to wonder how long can we do this?  Anything can change in the amount of time it will take for some or all of the kids to finish school.  But I will continue to hold onto this place we have created.  I admit I have my down thoughts at times when I miss him, but mostly I am doing well with our time together and our time apart.

Happy times...yes, we are a happy "we"

Someone recently asked me how long ago I divorced.  I responded "almost 6 years ago" and she said she remembered I was married, but wasn't sure when or if I divorced.  She noticed on Facebook how NON-married I acted with the man in my life, in the posts and pictures.  How revealing!  How I am nice and loving to him in the online public, and a married person noticed the difference and assumed correctly that this man is NOT my husband.  What to think about that? Hmmm.

One marriage down, I learned a few things about how to treat a partner.  I have learned to be more patient and more considerate, and not say every nasty thing that jumps into my mind when I'm irritated, and to shut the bathroom door when I go.  I try to make things even-steven financially, work-wise, and with the kids.  I remember the resentment when I wasn't being heard and I try to voice my issues in a way that demands attention but not anger.  Sinatra is even better at all of this than me.

As I have been a mother for over 14 years now, I can reflect on how my girls are becoming interesting and responsible little ladies, and I am pleasantly surprised as the days go by and they grow up before my eyes.  We have our fights and our fits but our happy co-dependence on each other in this household when it is just Us Women makes us recover from strife quickly, and there is plenty of laughter.  Our days are knee-deep in cheer, piano and volleyball and I love watching them make their way.

Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dah

I'm blessed to have a New Year to spend with this FAMILY that I have.


Here's to soaring off into 2013....

Wheeeeeeee!

YOLO! Ya Only Live Once

Am I the track, or the coaster? 

YOLO. A new teenager term I learned from my almost-14 year old Lil Lady, last night. She says its from a Drake song and ALL the kids say it. She says she says it to herself when she is afraid of something but wants to do it anyway.

I'm not sure of my feelings on this philosophy~ it sounds dangerous. This is teenager-without-full-frontal-cortex-development-speak.  With age, unfortunately I have become more cautious, i.e. I'm basically am a scaredy-cat about a lot of things.

I have my moments like on my Costa trip when I dared a jump off a natural waterfall. Or skiing down the black slopes in Wyoming, Colorado, and Tahoe.  Maybe its in fake-life, on vacation, that I let down my guard and say "Wheeeee!!".  But in real-life, I'm insuring every damn thing I can think of, buying extra toilet paper, and checking the door locks every night multiple times, and worrying myself silly about where I'm falling short with my kids.

Of course a teenager has a YOLO attitude.  What the hell do they know about fear?  What do they know about ANYTHING?  I was 13 and my biggest concern was acne.  Or the name brand on my jeans.  My teenager doesn't even worry about those things.  She wakes up each day and looks into her closet for her outfit for the day, sees a plethora of choices (thanks to Mom) and carefully selects her look.  Make-up (again thanks to Mom) and hair are meticulously placed for maximum cuteness, and down she goes for breakfast.

I'm a teenager....LALALALALALA!!!

She might stress for half a second if she didn't finish a homework page, but no worries, she has an advisory class set aside for homework catching-up time.  If she fails a test, her teachers give her a "make-up test".  What is this thing?  I don't remember getting all kinds of chances for making better grades.  Oh yeah, I studied and listened and got the A on the first try.  No wonder she is totally comfortable with her Bs on her report card.  I say, You could try harder.  She says, Wow look how well I did without even trying that hard!  Ayiyi....

Do I sound bitter? I'm really not.  I remember those days.  Middle school, high school, and college were THE funnest years of my life, if you are looking in the no-stress-and-worry category.  I did those years to the fullest.  They were great.  But I have to say my life today is better.

And by better I mean crazy busy, stressful, rewarding, and full of fun kiddo moments, fun love of my life moments, and fun friends moments.  Like the dog walks I do with one or the other of my daughters (if I'm lucky both, and they talk, not fight) where we cover their day's activities or upcoming events.  Or like dinners out with Sinatra where he and I sit like Big People at the bar and order yummy concoctions before gorging ourselves on a decadent meal.  Or when I'm doing my nerd-speak about races and training with my friends over wine.  It really doesn't get better than any of that.

I am making the most of my time here.  The rough stuff I worry about is always there, but I will try to take the YOLO teenager approach and do the scary thing anyway.

Hurry Up and Wait

Coming off a weekend camping trip with Sinatra and all our 5 kids, plus one for my Lil Lady to have a friend. We chose Waco, TX which is somewhat in between our two homes, although with Sinatra driving through Dallas traffic he's got the harder and longer leg of it. I am lucky to live on the north side of Austin so I'm heading out of town ahead of Friday afternoon traffic. The weekend started a bit crazy though, and I had some serious discussions with myself on the way to Waco.

I was off at 3pm on Friday so we could get loaded up and out of town no later than 5 to make the drive and be at the campground by 6 or 6:30pm. This gave us all time to set up the camper and get dinner going before dark. I had discussed this with Sinatra 2 weeks ago when we reserved the camp the last time we were in Waco. He even said he'd have to get on the road by no later than 3 to make it through Dallas traffic to meet me by 6. As per usual, I revisited this plan a few times within the past two weeks because I am a planner and have a need to talk out my plans. He's on the phone with me multiple times every day, so it is very probable he was the one I talked to about this plan.

His drive without traffic is close to 2 hrs, mine is only 1hr 15min, but with traffic and pulling the slow camper he's closer to 3 hrs so I told him to call me when he got into his drive so I could time it where we'd meet up at the same time. Got off at 3, went to get the girls from their friends' houses and got home about 4. I began packing up and telling the girls to get their things in the car and texted him what's up? He texted me "we just left", this was 4:15...ugh, running late but ok.

I'll get my stuff done and leave around 5:15. But at 4:45 he tells me they had to stop at Walmart for something to fix on the camper...I didn't know if that meant he was there or had already done that. So I asked. His reply was "on the road now" Mine: "Where?" His: "Lewisville." This is the next town just outside his burgh. Grrr...

So now its almost 5pm and he's just leaving to get into downtown Dallas traffic. Me no happy was putting it mildly. I know he wasn't all that jolly either, but I wasn't being sympathetic. Got the kids back in the house (they were waiting in the car) to cool our heels for another 45 minutes. I truly began to fume after I talked to him and he said he didn't realize I was off work early. What?? I'd only said it multiple times in talking about getting there and setting up camp. Was I talking to myself?

My bigger issue was he didn't listen to me, as in he's only half listening to me on the phone, often because they kids are in the room, he's on the computer or he's at work or driving around doing one of a million things he needs to get done. I didn't take it well to realize he clearly only half hears me when he's on the phone with me.

He's the busiest guy I know who has trouble getting anything done. Organizationally he can be a mess. Too many irons in the fire and only enough man-power to be able to half-do most of them.

I feel for him being single, because I am as well, but I manage with lists and calendars and a mind that handles multi-tasking well. He, notsomuch. I drove to Waco thinking how would I marry someone who will need corralling and nagging to get things done?? I did that already! A man won't change at this point in our lives. Warning, warning, danger, danger! Sirens going off, red flags flying, and I'm sending him to the penalty box.

So after an hour drive with me muttering to myself ("I ain't going to be the one who...I'll just have to do it all my own damnself..."), we got there after 7:30pm. The sweet campgrounds people said they weren't sure we were gonna show up (I bit my lip on that one), and I arrived first by about 10 minutes.

He backed the camper in and got out looking as harried and of course I melted, so we got everything set up in no time. We got the BBQ going and had hot dogs on the pdq. Not to kick a guy while he's down but dinner was thanks to me, since I'd bought the weinies and everything to go with them the day before. He came with very little in the way of groceries...another thing he didn't get to. Ummmm...I see a pattern here. Oh boy.

We barely got fed before the sun went down and then off he went to the store for more stuff for the next night. Really, the enormity of getting the camper ready and then getting his three in the car and through rush hour Dallas traffic should have knocked him out for the weekend.

He was pretty great by my side as we finagled 7 kids (yes, one more was added for the day) to a water park on Saturday. We cooled off in the wave pool (no alcohol, either! Waco is so Baptist-y) while the kids ran around the smallish park. We rode the rides with them too and we all had a great time.

That night back at the camp we were cooking out again. It's a challenge getting our kids to put DOWN the iPod/iPhones and look at the lake, or the birds, or the trees around us. I tried my best to get them out of the AC'd camper and walking around the campgrounds.

His burger meal was tons better-tasting than my dumb ole hot dogs, and he cooked them all over a hot pit in the 95+ degrees without complaint. Maybe I'm the one who needs a-changin'. Hmmmm....

I hope it was a few happy memories for the kids for a lifetime. It was for me, and hopefully for my Sinatra too.