I have been trying for the last 6 months to find this song and I’m so excited to finally have tracked down the name of the band and song.  Thanks to a HP printer commercial and my dear friend Google.  Enjoy!

Dan & I bought our house 8.5 years ago.  When we purchased it, every room was white and plain.  The first room to get painted was actually the laundry room (tan) that Dan built me in the basement.  Next he worked on the bathroom (beige) in the basement so we could start the remodel on the bathroom upstairs (violet so light that you think it’s white).  Emma’s bedroom was the next to get painted (purple) and then not even a year later repainted to a brownish green when Gerrit was born and took over that bedroom.  Our kitchen & dining room got painted a couple of years ago a basic beige color that has a slight tinge of green to it and I continued that color into the hallway.  Dan completed the basement in the spring and obviously painted it (light brown).

All the while, I had bemoaned the fact that my living room was white.  It was nearly blinding.  The more I looked at it, the more I hated it.  Dan was leaving for a week at deer camp and I started scheming.

As I’ve listed above, you can see the general theme of color in our house has been bland.  Emma’s room is the only room with real color in it and the only one that seems acceptable since it’s also covered with butterflies.  Dan and I have always had different ideas of color schemes and decorating.  Finding a couch and chairs for our living room nearly 9 years ago caused more fights than it seemed worth.  And I knew that picking a color would result in conflict.  How to solve this?  By secretly painting it while he was gone.  After all, what could he do if it was already done?  I decided to find out if it truly was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

My friend, Megan, agreed to help me.  We had a lot to get done in a short amount of time.  First thing I had to do was pick a color.  I was nearly overwhelmed with this task.  As I looked at my chairs and fireplace, I knew I was limited to warm colors. 

Chair I need to find a complimentary color

Fireplace with more warm tone colors

Picture of lip on ceiling

Better idea of white on white

Trim is white on base, natural on window and window is brown

Boring, boring, boring.  I went and got a ton of color squares from Home Depot and then I sat at home trying to pick one.  I was originally going to go with a greenish color but I wasn’t in love with any of them.  And if I was going to do this, I wanted to love the room I was in.  I got a crazy notion and I picked a color… orange.  Burnt orange to be more precise.  And for the trim and lip on the ceiling, dark brown.  Scary, huh?  My least likely to have color house was going to one majorly different room.

Finished product (excluding the blue throw)

The flash distorted the orange color but shows the trim color and the lip on the ceiling well

Last night, it started snowing.  While not being an unsual event around these parts, the unusual part was that it had waited to snow until now.  It’s not unheard of for us to get a dusting in Oct and certainly by my birthday in November, the ground will be covered at least once or twice with the white stuff.  For whatever reason, we had been spared so far and all of us were getting pretty excited about it.  Particularly, me.

As I’ve said before, snow is horrible, awful, cold stuff that sucks the energy and life out of me.  If I have to leave the house, I often view it as an evil nemesis, plotting me & my vehicle’s demise.  My opinion hasn’t changed and with my return to bus driving, the plot has thickened.

I’d be a bold face liar if I tried to tell you I wasn’t a little apprehensive about taking that 40 foot cheeze machine loaded with little lives down the slippery snow covered roads again.  It’s been 4 yrs since I’ve had to tackle that challenge and unfortunately, my brain remembered all too well how far your heart sinks when you feel the tail end of your bus fishtailing behind you.  It’s not so much the fear of people on the bus getting hurt as it is about how much stuff you’re capable of taking out!  Managing to keep your bus and your swears under control at the same time is a gigantic task.  One that I’ve been out of practice of for 4 years.

A phone call at 5:35am took care of that.  Not unexpected.  The worse the weather, the more likely for a regular driver to say ’skip this, I’m going back to bed’.  Onto the shoulders of a sub driver comes the responsibility (and the fear).  Nothing like driving a run you don’t know when the roads are crap!

Driving to work, I kept thinking how much this was going to suck.  The run that they’d assigned me to was one that I’d never driven before but I knew it took me out on the borders of the district.  Busy streets, a bus that I was unfamiliar with, slick roads and snow covered road signs were going to be my surroundings for the next 3hrs.  I could almost feel my nerves going crazy and I braced myself for the tears that must inevitably follow a morning such as this.

I pre-tripped my bus like I have to and then got the route sheet.  I had given myself time to at least look on the big map the high school and middle school routes.  A basic idea of where I’d be heading.  I climbed into the bus and took a deep breath.  Whether I was ready or not, it was time to roll out.

I headed out to the road and as I drove, I realized I was ok.  No, the kids didn’t have a chance in hell of getting to school on time and once I realized that, there was a certain freedom I acquired.  It was actually liberating.  I’d get them there safely and that was the best I could do on a morning like this.  Even while driving through white outs, I felt a peace.  

I think a lot of kids, especially the middle school kids, gave up on me and went home.  That’s how late I was.  But the kids that I did pick up, were happy that I was late.  They were polite and encouraged me to drive slower so they missed more school.  It was actually a very low stress drive and I’m glad to have the season’s first drive on snow done with.  Still, I’m wishing for a dry winter

Intuition

Have you ever had a moment that you realized your life wasn’t where you wanted it to be?  You’re plugging along and bam… it hits you.  This isn’t what you had planned and you have no idea how you ended up on this road.  It’s amazing how far away you can get before it dons on you.

It seems our lives are like swimming in the ocean.  If you aren’t paddling against it, the current can sweep you away.  Unknowing of how far you’ve been carried away. 

I’ve found myself further than I ever wanted to be.  Struggling to find myself and the vision I held before.  Life takes purpose and whether you live it on purpose or not, it happens around you. 

Relationships change.  They either evolve or they dissolve.  Without  care and attention, they can end up looking like the plant on my kitchen counter.  Wilted and thirsty.  It’s then that you realize just how much you miss the beauty.  You miss the blossoms and warmth.  The comfort that it gave you before.  It’s missing.  You long for it to be as it was.  And you wonder how to revive what once was. 

You question if it can be saved, if it’s worth trying.  You feel the pain in that thought.  The fact that you’re in a place that you could ever wonder.  Then, you feel the fear.  What if it can’t be saved?  A terrifying possibility you’ve never had to face.  You realize just how much you want it to be.

Under it all, the thing that brings you back is love.  Your heart remembers it.  It longs for what it’s known before.  It pulls you back.  For the mind forgets but not the heart

Yesterday, we were driving to Costco to pick up pies for Thanksgiving.  I had woke in the middle of the night with a fever and spent the morning in bed trying to get better.  By 2, I had given up hope of that and decided that those pies weren’t going to wait for a healthy me.  We piled into the car… the kids looking adorable and me, looking like death warmed over.  I felt like pooh but couldn’t help but have my spirits raised when I heard this conversation unfold.

Emma: “Gerrit, I need to talk to you about your ears”

Gerrit: “What?”

Emma: “You know you don’t really have elf ears, right?”

Gerrit: “Yes I do!”

Now, this was news to me.  I hadn’t heard anything about elf ears yet but apparently, he’d mentioned it to her before.

Emma: ” But Gerrit, elf ears go up to here.”

Gerrit: “Nuh ugh, not baby elves ears.”

Emma: “Right, but you’re not a baby.”

Gerrit: “Well, not kid elves ears too.  And I’m a kid.”

Emma: “But Gerrit, elf ears are pointy at the top too.  Your ears curve around like mine and mommies.”

Gerrit: ” Well, mine point a little.”

Emma: “No Gerrit.  Yours are curved like this” moving her finger and drawing in the air.  “All people’s ears curve like that and elf ears are pointy not curvy.”

Gerrit is obviously not liking how this debate is going so he decides the diversion tactic…

Gerrit: “Emma, it’s elves not elf.  Mommy, Emma’s saying it wrong.  She said elf and it’s elves.”

I jump in to explain the proper use of elf vs. elves.  Then remove myself from the conversation.

Emma: “Gerrit, you really don’t have elf ears.”

Gerrit: “Yes, I do.  Stop talking about my ears, Emma.”

Emma: “But Gerrit, if you had elf ears you would be an elf.  Then Santa would take you for rides in his sled.  But he doesn’t cause you’re not!”

Gerrit, getting pretty upset now: “Emma, I said stop talking about my ears!  I asked you 2 times now!!”

The whole scene quickly took a nose dive from there.  I stopped my silent laughter when Emma told me (as punishment for his yelling at her) that next time they have a sleepover, she didn’t want to sleep next to Gerrit.  He started crying because he thought that was so mean.  I played the role of mediator, brushing aside the whole issue of elf ears.  But would it be so bad for him to believe he’s just a tiny part elf?  Maybe he thinks Legolas is his real father

Cheri & I after the race

The morning of the marathon, I woke early.  I drank some coffee and continued deliberating in my mind what pace team I was going to try to stick with.  The pace teams are separated by celebrities marathon race times.  If you’re only doing the half marathon, you can divide it in half to see your ending time.  I was stuck between Will Ferrel’s time and P. Diddy.  Will had finished in about 3:58 and Diddy 4:14.  My goal was 1:59 (just under 2hrs).  But was that realistic?  I would have to run 25 seconds/mile faster than I had done the Bridge run to accomplish that goal.  Was that feasible to start out that fast or would I burn out?  I still hadn’t decided as I met up with Cheri to drive downtown.

Parking was harder this year.  It seemed that there were a lot more people or we were a bit later than the previous year.  Cheri and I finally found an empty spot at a meter.  We put on all our gear and headed to the Burger King across from the start of the race to use the facilities.  Let me tell you, what a great idea that was!  I don’t even think it was 30 degrees that morning and it was nice to warm up our muscles and wait out the time inside a warm building.  The BK employees seemed unbothered by the flock of runners in their restaurant and the people that were eating watched in amusement as all of us in tight spandex stretched out.

It was nearing race time and I found the P. Diddy pace team to line up.  I figured it would be better to run with them and if I felt strong enough to pull away, I could later.  We stood in the cold waiting and anticipating the starting buzzer.  Nervous butterflies flew and fluttered in my belly as I bounced in place, trying to warm my legs.

If you’ve never ran in a race, let me tell you that the start is a little anticlimactic.  Unless you’re super fast, you’re going to be further behind and when the buzzer sounds, your heart flips but you just stand there.  A moment later, you might begin your walk to the starting line and eventually (in our case 1min later), you actually cross it.  Finally, we were there and we started running. 

The first 4 miles were through downtown this year.  We’d loop around and cross the Grand River a couple of times before heading to the trail.  It was a nice contrast of city/nature and the change of scenery was pleasant.  The morning was cold and we were layered.  Dan & the kids would be waiting at mile 4 and we could toss our top layer to him at that time but I was warmed up and ready to shed at mile 2. 

I wish I could say that I felt amazing running that day.  I would have loved to be in the same euphoric state that the Bridge Run held for me this year but honestly, I wasn’t.  The pervasive illness that had started a week before was plaguing me.  My body didn’t really hurt but it didn’t seem to be appreciating the strain I was putting on it.  I tried to focus on seeing my babies faces at mile 4.  Surely, that would change everything. 

Running is such a mental game and flipping the switch in your brain can really change it all.  I saw Dan standing there, Emma laying on the grass and Gerrit sitting on the ground all waiting to watch me run by.  I couldn’t help but smile and wave like an idiot as I approached.  It warmed my heart and gave me a boost of energy to see them and know that they were cheering me on.  Like a shotblok to my soul.  I tossed them my vest and continued on with determination in my step.

The trail was a couple of miles up the road and I looked forward to a fall color show as the sun lifted into the cold autumn sky.  Cheri and I continued on, commenting briefly on how the scenery was beautiful.  As the trail curved and rose, we could see a long line of runners ahead.  It’s amazing to see that many people all striving together, working towards their goal.  We kept our talking to a minimum and focused on staying with our pace team.

By mile 7, we were really wondering where the heck the GU was!  The course was relatively flat, with just some small hills.  Still, the pace we were keeping was quick and we were looking forward to that pick me up.  Finally, we spotted the GU just before the half marathon turnaround at the 8.5mile marker.  The full marathon runners kept on and we turned around.  Somehow, during the transition, I lost the pace team. 

I picked it up a notch, trying to locate them.  How had I lost so much time grabbing GU?  The turnaround was awkward and I had to change my gait while doing it.  Where was the pace team?  I left Cheri behind me in my scramble to suck down my GU and widen my stride.  It was nearly mile 10 when I came up on them and I knew it was decision time.  If I stayed with P. Diddy pacers, I would finish 2:07.  That would be much better than my time from last year but not the goal I had in mind.  As I approached the red shirted pacers, I knew I would regret it if I hung loose with them and didn’t push myself harder.  It was do or die time.  I passed them and braved the rest of the race alone. 

Back to the city I ran.  Passed the loud speakers and strangers cheering us on.  You can do it!  You’re awesome!  They clapped and gave us a thumbs up sign.  A lady rocked out on a fake guitar to the music blaring and it made me laugh.  I passed the water stations, I passed trees, I passed people.  What a difference!  Last year, I felt passed by so many and now, I was charging ahead.

I checked my Garmin for my time and mileage.  I had 1.5 miles left and a little over 10 min to accomplish my goal.  It seemed impossible.  I quickened my pace.  I reached mile 12 and I hit a wall.  My legs were tired, my determination waning.  I felt discouragement that I wasn’t going to hit my goal time but tried to remain positive.

1 more mile, Chris, 1 more mile.  You can always run 1 mile.  1 mile isn’t anything.  You can always run 1 more mile.  You can do this.  Keep going. 

I find sometimes always that trash talking helps me during a difficult time and I tried that for a while.  Suck it Wealthy street!  You can’t stop me.  Go to hell street light.  I ain’t stopping.  I’m almost there.  My mind started singing the line from Yes, Anastasia… we’ll see how brave you are, we’ll see how fast you’ll be running.  Yes, we will see won’t we?

Finally, I saw the finish line.  It still felt so far away!  I checked my Garmin again and struggled to keep my pace.  My eyes scanned the crowd looking for Dan & the kids.  I knew if I saw them, I could do it.  I heard my name and my heart lifted. 

Scanning the crowd for Dan & the kids

I see them ahead!

When I heard them cheer me on, I pushed it.  I gave it all I had and finished as big as I could.

Big finish time

As I crossed the finish line, I checked my time…

I was surprised at the emotion that I felt when I finished.  I found Dan and hugged him.  I was proud of my time and what I had accomplished.  It choked me up for a second.  My results last year were

Quite a difference!  It felt good to smash it and I was so proud of Cheri for her time as well.  We both took a tremendous amount of time off and that feels good. 

Emma, Gerrit & I after the race.

I had planned on writing about the marathon today.  The kids & I have been enduring the ’sickness’ that is flying through the schools and I just didn’t have it in me to emote the events of the race until I felt a little better.  I’ll have to save it for a nearby date though.  A black cloud moved into my life last night and I feel like I need to get it out before I can move on.

I found out last night that a very dear friend of mine has breast cancer.  And while knowing that detail, the rest seems to be unknown at this time.  To say I felt like I had gotten hit by a Mack truck would be an understatement.  I had known that a biopsy had been done and was expecting results yesterday but my mind immediately chose to believe the best.  I didn’t realize how much I had expected the news to be good until I faced the alternative. 

My throat choked with sorrow and I took a deep breath to try to swallow down a sob.  Her son had called me to give me the news and it seemed incredibly unfair to cry to him about it.  I struggled to compose myself, my mind racing with questions.  How far has it gone?  What’s the next step?  How is she?  How is all of her family handling this news?  My brain seemed unable to absorb all the information.

I hung up and felt it all.  Sorrow, worry, fear, hope, love.  I haven’t had to experience this diagnosis with someone so close to me.  Cancer is all around us.  People are diagnosed everyday.  But I’ve been spared dealing with it.  Now, it feels like a flood.  Like a little earthquake has come and shaken up my life.  In Tori Amos’ song Little Earthquakes, she says ‘doesn’t take much to rip us into pieces’.  That’s so true.  Until I know more about the diagnosis, my heart is just tilting on the verge, waiting to shatter… waiting to be whole.

My friend is amazing.  She’s stronger than I could ever be.  She’s a fighter and an overcomer.  I’ll be strong for her and we’ll get through this.  As she told me “we ran a half marathon… we can do anything”.  Her strength is inspiring and her soul is beautiful.  We’ll fight, we’ll conquer and we’ll grow in the journey.

Apparently, the housing market is so good that even Emma is looking for her first home. 

It started about 2 wks ago.  The house across the street that had been abandoned (refresh your memory here) a year and a half ago, was finally bought.  I guess Emma had been planning on living there someday when she was grown and this threw a wrench in her plans. 

Never the type to get discouraged, she began a new search for her house of the future.  Everywhere we drive now, she points out ones that she likes and makes a mental note where they are located.  Our trips in the van have become quite entertaining and have left me laughing in my head, listening to Emma & Gerrit’s conversations.

Emma told Gerrit: “I’m going to have my husband paint my house pink”

Which I thought was nice.  Here she is only 6 but already creating a honey do list for her future husband.  That poor man has no idea what’s in store for him.

Emma: “Gerrit, do you want to live next to me and be my neighbor?”

Gerrit: “Yeah, cuz even when we’re grown up, I’ll still be your brother.”

Emma has offered to help Gerrit paint his house green.  Which I guess she’ll have time to help him since her own house will be getting painted by her hubby. 

And you can tell she’s really thinking this through because she asked me the other day ”Mommy, can you drive me to my house when I move into it?”

Me: “You’ll be old enough to drive yourself by the time you buy your own house, Em”

Emma replies with a slight note of annoyance in her voice: “Well yeah, but you’ll have to drive me to the license place to get my drivers license first” 

The other day, they spotted townhouses.  They thought they had hit the jackpot!  I tried for about 4min to dissuade them of their choice.  I started listing all the drawbacks of a townhouse vs a single dwelling home and then it dawned on me that I was trying to rationalize a home purchase with a 6 & 5 year old.