To the 9's

I love this day, the day of our love. I mix it up in my head sometimes though, are we 9 or 14 - 4 or 9? In the end it dosn't really matter, because it is all the same, plus you remind me.

Nine years married, 14 years together. Married on the 4th, first date on the 9th. It is all about the same thing in the end. Our commitment to the end. And despite the bumps we have been though this past year, we are solid and unbreakable; forever.

Happy Anniversary Matt. You make me just as happy today as you did on the 4th and the 9th.

Pictures are Deceiving

By the pictures, we had a wonderful weekend away.

There were blue skies and a sparkling lake.

Matt was able to show the girls how daddy rode up the worst road known to man.

They touched his brick for the effort in last years Savageman.

BUT

What the pictures don't show is the fact that Clare was on another tear again this weekend. The three hour drive from Baltimore to Deep Creek alone had us rethinking our weekend plans. By the time early evening rolled around, I was using my phone to see if I could rent a car to drive back home with the girls that very night.

What there are no pictures of is the fact that I was walking, seething with rage over temper-tantrums, small town rental car hours and slow 3G connections on my iPhone, and playing with my phone instead of looking where I was going. Or that I am a clutz and I always look down while walking on uneven terrain.

There are no pictures of my fall down a few rustic, nature preserve stairs, when I insisted I was fine to finish the walk down to Matt's bike drop off, or when my vision went white and I was .this.close. to fainting so I made Matt move road blocks to come pick me up in the car.

There could be pictures of the fact that my right foot is still swollen to about double it's normal size and turning the most delightful shades of purple, black and blue, but it is so grotesque, I will spare you that visual.

There are no pictures of the fact that it meant that I couldn't attend the triathlon the we had driven 3 hours to watch and cheer at. That attitudes did not improve, adults included, in our 2.5 days away.

Honestly, the best part of the weekend? The drive home.

We are headed to Chicago tomorrow. Wish us luck, and maybe send a prayer or two our way.

White (House) Christmas

Matt is always one for new adventures.

His latest started at the end of October. It was an ego boost of an adventure, for he was recruited. Was explicitly told that his name was one on a very short list of people that have their sought after skill set. It would be a commute heavy detail of six months, but would yield experience (and prestige) that would be unattainable any other way in his current position.

Plus, there seems to be other seasonal perks they forgot to mention.

You know, like making the list to receive a White House Christmas card.

Run Turkey Run

We went for a walk this morning. Some penitence for what would be coming later today.

Daddy, I like the hills!, she said. I think it would be a lot more fun for you if you ran down them. I will cheer.

So he ran.

Faster, faster daddy! Wheeeeeeeeee! Faster daddy, faster! I know you can go faster than that! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I am Thankful for a husband who loves his family more than he loves himself, and is willing to take a beating to prove it.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Daddy-Daughter

Everyone has things from their childhood that they can’t or won’t let go of. (Right?)

One of mine was the Daddy-Daughter Dance. I was in 4th or 5th grade and I desperately wanted to go. I remember begging my dad nonstop to take me.  He wouldn’t even consider it. He didn’t dance and had no interest in going. He had no interest in going with me.

For weeks it was all anyone talked about at school. I withdrew (even further) from the conversations and into myself those weeks to avoid being asked why I wasn’t going. What would I tell them? The day of the dance I cried in my room. He sat in his favorite chair and watched TV.

My mom loves to tell me how much Matt reminds her of my father sometimes. I vehemently disagree with that statement and it drives a wedge even further between us every time she says it.

This past Saturday, Matt took Grace to our local carnival on one of their frequent ‘dates’.

They rode rides, ate snacks and played games. Gracie almost won a ham and a goldfish. (Neither one would have lasted long in our house.) Matt’s superior college dart skills paid off and he won her princess posters. They rode and snuggled and had the kind of love filled experience Grace has come to expect from him.

And I know Matt will always be the first one in line to dance with his little girl.

Childhood Dreams

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four- Manage and Start

Three

Two- Solid Rocket Ignition
One

------Space Shuttle Columbia has Taken Flight

Nature vs Nurture

A few weeks ago Matt was watching The Right Stuff. I could have cared less. It apparently was one of his favorite childhood movies when HBO would show the same 3 movies over and over and over again in the 80's.

(Although I wouldn't know that from experience. My family did have cable until the mid-90's. Not that I'm bitter or anything....)

Anyway - Matt was obsessed with the movie and space flight in general. His childhood dream? To be an astronaut. (I was much more realistic. I wanted to be a ballerina.) So in true Matt fashion, his obsession was full of books and studies on NASA and space craft and rockets.

As I've told you in the past, Grace also has an obsession with all things that move. This has only blossomed over the last year and has grown to include space shuttles now too. Watching the lift-off scenes of the movie was all it too.

Daddy, she begged over and over, again, again! I want to see it again!

And so he played the scenes over and over again for her. Then he pulled up shuttle launches on the internet, which fueled questions about what was happening and oh-my-goodness why parts were falling off??

So- this has become a regular scene at our dinner table. (Thankfully there is usually wine readily available.)

Did you know that NASA has had to cancel the space flight program? There are two more launches scheduled and then the flights will be part of history for the foreseeable future. So we have plans to do what must be done. To live out the childhood dreams of two of my loves.

We MUST go see a real space shuttle take off.

There will be picnics of hamburgers and juice boxes; dances of joy and sorrow; huddling for warmth and love on a beach in Florida this February.

And I can watch the sparkle in both their eyes.

Making A Difference, One Cube at a Time

I don't have many hits to this blog. I am OK with that. I am amazed by the fact that ANYONE reads this dribble about our lives and Gracie's shoes, and am blown away that readers from NES's blog have wandered over to read mine.

Sometimes readers come from unlikely sources though... like Matt's 20-something coworkers. Yeah Jasson, I'm talking about you. He was apparently enthralled by this post. Maybe it is because I didn't write anything else for over a week, so he had plenty of time to stare at the sad clown. Maybe he gets some sort of perverse pleasure from the forlorn.

Either way, he made a request for the clown and it now has a new home in a non-descript beige government cubicle.

And I'm glad to be of service to the select few who spend their time reading these pages, and I like to think that we are making a difference. Let me know if anyone else needs some 2 year old art to adorn their walls.

Matt's Race Report: Tune Up Tri

Per tradition, here is Matt's race report on Beginner Triathlete. Yea Matt!!

Race: Tune Up Tri
Race Type: Triathlon - Sprint
Age Group: Male 35 - 39
Time: 0:27:16
Overall Place: 6 / 252
Age Group Place: 1 / 17
Comment: Not exactly an Ironman, but...

Race Report:
Ok, disclaimer first that this was a super sprint, and heavily marketed to beginners, but still, there were some pretty fast folks here, and it was cool to get my first tri-award of any kind.

I did this race two years ago with some friends, it's a fun chance to go out and race as hard as you can without holding back. They do the race backwards due to the weather, so it's run, bike, swim. I stayed down at my cousin's place the night before, and brought our two year old to give my (8 months pregnant) wife a break. I caught a huge break in that my wave was the first off, on such a short course it's easy to get trapped behind or around folks.

Run:

1.4 miles, Time: 8:37

It felt like I ran very consistently. I think I was seventh or eighth in my wave for the whole run. There were a couple of uneven sections with mulch/mud, but nothing too bad. All the turns helped with seeing the folks behind me. I remember looking at my Garmin coming into T1, it measured the course at 1.3 miles. Even at 1.3, I'll take sub-7 miles any day!

T1: :38

Made the right call switching from cleats to toe cages, fastest T1 in the whole event. ;)

Bike:

4 miles, Time: 11:37

I passed one or two people in T1, so I think I was in fifth or sixth for my wave heading out on the bike. I tried to get sped up as fast as I could, since I knew the first 180 was coming up almost immediately. By the second mile I had passed all but the guy who would end up finishing first in the wave (but in all fairness, several of the people I passed were on hybrids and the like). Given the number of turns, I was really happy with being able to average just over 20 MPH. It was pretty funny gunning as fast as you could for a few minutes, and then whoa-ing up to do the hairpins.

T2: 1:08
Almost blew it here. Coming up to the dismount line, a volunteer was shouting to slow down, get ready to dismount, etc. I was braking fine, but two things conspired to almost wipe me out: as I came to a stop the volunteer reached out and grabbed my bike while at the same time my left foot got caught in the toe cage. I did a really fun front wheelie with the back tire coming almost all the way around. Almost ate a catch fence, but I got back under control. Whew!

I had considered going sockless because the race was so short, but it ended up being no problem getting my shoes and socks off, and then headed into the pool.

Swim:

250 yard snake swim, Time: 5:18

I could tell right off the bat that I wouldn't be catching the one guy in front of me, but I did see the guy behind me enter the pool area just as I was getting in. The first couple lengths felt fine, but I was really struggling at the end. The guy behind me got pretty close, but couldn't quite catch me. Hopped out and jogged to the final timing mat.

Snake swims are kind of tricky, since you're ducking under ropes, pushing off, etc. But it was awesome having the lanes to myself. This was only my third swim since like October, so obviously some more prep would have helped.

I knew finishing 2nd in my wave guaranteed I was going to win something, since waves were divided by AG's. I was really excited, since this was going to be my first award of any kind. Some of the younger folks in the next wave ended up smoking the field, plus I found out the guy ahead in my wave was the same AG.

Not sure what happened, but they handed out ONE penalty for the entire race, and it was the guy who beat me, so I got 1st in AG! AND my daughter was there to get my award with me. Sweet.

Three-Six

Birthdays are another marker by which we measure.

~~Life, love, accomplishments ~~

During the 12 years I’ve been a part of yours, you continue to amaze me with your unfazed determination to pull every ounce of joy possible out of yours.

Happy 36th Birthday Matt. 36 years doesn’t seem nearly enough time for all that you are.

Dreams

I like plans. I can’t help it. I’ll say it again. I like plans.

NOTHING in Williamsburg went to plan.

We headed toward Virginia Saturday morning. As all true planners do, we had been following the weather and knew there was a chance of snow. Chance. They said chance.

When we got into our car at 8am, it had just barely begun to flurry. By the time we reached the DC beltway, it was snowing. In Northern Virginia we could barely see the roads. The farther south we went, the snow turned into rain. Past Richmond, we were safely in the rain.

The rain did not stop though. At 40 degrees, it is not cold enough to snow, but it is sure cold enough to keep sane people from bringing their 2 year old out into those temperatures with pelting raindrops.

So the weather foiled our Saturday night plans. We were going to go to Busch Gardens to see their Christmas Wonderland. We had told Gracie all about it. There will be Christmas lights all over! and hot chocolate! and carolers singing! and a choo choo train! and *guess what?* penguins!

And then it rained cold pelting drops.

So penguins were forgone and the hotel pool was adopted instead. Except she didn’t forget our magical stories of trains and penguins. She kept asking about them. All throughout our Sunday morning trip to Jamestown with its Indian Village corn grinding, Settlers Village armor wearing and cafeteria ketchup eating, she asked about the penguins.

And it became clear what must be done. Matt’s dream of seeing the Williamsburg Illumination would have to be put on hold in lieu of 2 year old dreams of choo choo’s and penguins.

You know what though, it was worth it

.

Perceptions

With a sly grin, Matt announced last night that he was going to be interviewed by a local online sports magazine about triathlons. And he’s been asked to come to the interview wearing athletic wear.

While I still haven’t gotten over my gut reaction of snickering, and I don’t think I actually have, not out loud anyway, I know how much this means to him. For an outsider to recognize his accomplishments.

I know I have said this over and over again in this blog, but he has worked hard for this. He runs when the weather is cold and rainy. He goes to the gym before work or during lunch. I am proud of him.

People who haven’t seen Matt in awhile tend to not recognize him or freak out due to his weight loss over the last two years. I get the people who go on and on because it is an amazing accomplishment, but I am frustrated and angered by the people who somehow see it as a negative.

Let’s look at this handy little chart.


Do you see the fat guy in the red section? That was Matt at the start of all this. Now go down to the green guy. That is Matt today. How is this a problem?

Now that Matt is getting ready to do the Marine Corps Marathon again this weekend, people outside of our everyday are chiming up again. Sure, there are sometimes deaths at marathons and other hard-core sporting events. But they are explainable, they are catastrophic, the same end result would have happened no matter what. Sure, they might have had another few years before having an aneurism or heart attack, but isn’t it better to drop dead running instead of behind the wheel?

And you know what? Matt has had physicals and EKG’s done. He is in good health and the exercise only enhances that. Of course I would be beside myself if something did happen to Matt, but I could also spend my days worrying about car wrecks and government employees too.

So this Sunday Matt runs his third 26.2 mile run. Sure I worry, but not about his ability to do come home.

He has proven he can do this through all his hard work and dedication.

Divine Plans

When Matt and I were preparing for our wedding, we met with the pastor who wed us for an informal pre-marital session.

I was beyond nervous, but the pastor was beyond nice. Before arriving that day he had asked Matt and I to fill out a survey, keeping our answers confidential from each other. In the spirit of the exercise we did. Even the portion titled ‘Sexual Relations’. Trust me, it was excruciating.

I honestly can’t remember much of the three hour discussion outside of one blip. When we got to the sex portion of our survey, it was the one segment where our answers were 100% identical. It was full of questions like:

“Does your partner fulfill your needs emotionally?”
“Does your partner fulfill your needs sexually?”
“Do you feel pressured to perform sexual acts?”
“Do you see yourself with children in the future?”
“How many children would you like to have?”

Our answers?
YES
YES
NO
NO
ZERO

Matt and I had no intention of having children. I didn’t want children because of my diabetes and all the ‘what ifs?’ that surrounded pregnancy, for me and a child. Matt didn’t want kids because he said he was absolutely happy with our lives as it is.

A few years after we were married I changed my mind. I did want a child. Technology had changed to the point where I could keep my blood sugar almost perfect, and my AC1 in the non-diabetic range. Plus, new research was showing that the genetic predisposition for type I diabetes was dominant on the fathers side, not the mothers.

When I told Matt I wanted to have a baby, he looked at me with shining eyes and laughed. Defensive, I questioned the laughter. He responded that he thought this would happen some day and that this is how he KNOWS there is a God. God had flipped on my baby making switch and he was on board. While he loved our life together as it is, he would also love any baby we made together with the same passion.

Gracie was born two years ago yesterday, October 12, 2007.

And in 7 more months, she will no longer be an only child.

The switch has been flipped again.

Don’t get too excited though. We are super gluing it in the OFF position after this baby comes.

I AM Ironman

Per tradition, here is Matt's race report on Beginner Triathlete.

Pre-race routine:
I arrived in Cambridge Friday afternoon for packet pickup and bike racking. I was really happy I had already thought through what to put in my T1, T2, and special needs bags, so that made getting organized a lot easier. I went to dinner with some folks from my tri club, headed back to the hotel, and actually got a pretty good (Ambien assisted) night of sleep. Woke up around 4, got all my bags to the right locations, and headed to the swim start. Getting started early helped, I didn't feel at all rushed.

Event warmup: Ha! The warmup was swimming the couple hundred yards from the boat ramp to the swim start.

Swim (2.4 miles swim - Completed in 1 hour, 42 minutes)

Comments: Well, I had done swims in rough water before, but I don't think it was ever anything this bad. Things were fine on the outbound leg, but quickly got worse at the turn. With the waves coming in and breaking over your side, it got pretty disruptive, not to mention the lovely side effect of nausea. Fortunately the "side-wave" action was short lived, the reward being another turn to swim directly into the waves. Ugh. Couldn't sight worth a damn on the inbound leg, but was actually pleased coming around on the first lap, hearing that I was at about 43 minutes. The second lap was all the same sensations, just worse because my stomach was feeling worse and worse. I almost lost it about 200M from the finish, started to dry heave. Stopping didn't help, because the bouncing up and down wasn't exactly a yack reliever. So, suck it up move number one of the day was just shutting it out, since there was no way I was going to bail on the swim with the end in sight. I was VERY happy to get out of the water.
What would you do differently?: I could have used more swim volume in training, but really the conditions and resulting inability to sight well had a lot to do with the result.

T1 (transition 1, swim to bike)
Comments: I always pride myself on being pretty quick in transitions. I had been telling myself that I just had to take it easy in an iron distance rate. Happily, the condition I was in getting out of the water guaranteed that I would take all the time I needed in T1. Very helpful volunteers in the tent getting my suit off and packed up. I already had my bike shorts on under the wetsuit, so it was just a matter of putting on my jersey, shoes, and helmet before heading out of the tent.
What would you do differently?: Nothing. I just needed to sit for a few minutes to get my bearings back.

Bike (112 miles - Completed in 6 hours, 51 minutes)

Comments: I knew this was going to be rough when I saw the wind forecast for Cambridge was 10-13 MPH, because once you get outside of town the winds are almost always stronger than the forecast. Sure enough, the first outbound section things felt great, but I could see everyone coming back going significantly slower. Even going (slower) back into the wind, I was feeling pretty good.

The first 30-40 miles were pretty uneventful, other than the wind. I alternated eating a Clif Bar and an Uncrustable every 45 minutes or so, which seemed to be working well. I really got demoralized, however, when I turned onto the road north to finish the first loop. The wind didn't really feel like it had let up, and the road conditions were pretty bad for a few miles in there. One fun part, like last year, the water had covered parts of the road, so there were a few "Wheeeeeeee!" moments riding through.

I finally got to the special needs stop at the high school, and was very happy to see my wife and daughter, who had driven out that morning to watch. There was a brief moment of panic, though, when the volunteers couldn't find my bag. Fortunately, they found it, I was able to reload nutrition, take some Tylenol, and head back out. I wasn't exactly looking forward to lap 2, since I knew the wind, rough patch of road, and mind-numbing distance were all still out there waiting.

All in all though, lap 2 went well. I stayed pretty focused, dealt with the rough patch of road, went through the (now deeper) water, and really just tried to deal with the boredom. Happily, I thought up a great time waster in the last 20 miles. Singing "100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" over and over again might not seem like the greatest idea on the world right now as you're reading this, but it worked like a charm to keep me from going insane those last few miles. Or maybe I was already insane, and this was just a manifestation. Similar to Eagleman in June, I was really looking forward to the run, mostly because it meant I wouldn't be on the bike anymore.

What would you do differently?: I guess work on mental focus, but it's already hard on a ride this long, much less with the winds involved.

T2 (transition 2, bike to run )
Comments: Pretty uneventful, but the valet service for the bike was nice. With the water we rode through, I was really happy to have a dry pair of socks to put on, and also put my IT band brace on my right leg (which is the one that has always flared up). In prepping for this, I really thought I was going to have a hard time getting up and leaving the changing tent, but it was just kind of happened without me really thinking about it.
What would you do differently?: Nothing.

Run (26.2 miles - Completed in 6 hours, 9 minutes)

Comments: I actually felt really good leaving transition, and for the first four miles I was actually clicking off 10 minute miles without much effort. I slowed a little on the return leg, but was still back from the first loop in about 1.5 hours. I got to see my wife and daughter again, which was great. I actually thought for a little while that I might be done by 9PM, but, of course, my body had other plans.

Starting the second loop, my IT band starting acting up. But it was the one in my LEFT leg, aka the one without the brace. Okay, time to stop, switch it over, and really hope the right leg didn't act up, or I'd get to find out the answer to a question I've always had, "If someone has a limp in both legs, do you notice?"

I still had no doubt about finishing, I just knew it was going to take longer, and be pretty painful. So, I shuffled along, drinking at the aid stations, tried some soup, and felt my knee get worse and worse. Just before the turn around, I met up with Brian. He made the last half of the marathon a lot more pleasant than it could have been. He seemed to be in better shape than me, but seemed happy to settle into my pace, which involved walking for awhile after aid stations, and then eventually jog/shuffling to the next one. It was great having someone to talk to, mentally it was such a relief after 10 hours of just having your thoughts to yourself. It started raining somewhere on the second lap, which felt good at first, but as it picked up all I kept thinking about how miserable my wife would be back at the high school. I had tried telling her to just go back to the hotel, but she stuck it out, which was amazing of her to do for me (read about her perspective on the race at her blog: http://maketimeforlove.blogspot.com/

Anyways, the last lap was pretty uneventful, except for it being pitch black, raining, and me almost tripping on a frog. We joked that if you had to DNF an iron distance, frog-related injury probably wasn't the best way to do it.

Before long, we could see the lights of the stadium, and agreed to run it in from the last aid station. Ok, we cheated a little and started back running at the first phone pole past the aid station. Brian was great and wanted me to finish in front of him, but when we got back towards the school, my wife and daughter (who I am grateful was somehow sleeping in her stroller) were there waiting to follow along beside me to get to the track, so Brian went on ahead to finish. It was so gratifying to see my wife, I couldn't help but cry a little as we got to the track surface.

We split up so she could be at the finish line, and as I jogged around, I was mostly surprised at how little emotion I was feeling. I was just drained of every emotion, and all I saw was the finish line. A couple of guys sprinted past just before I finished, which was a little disconcerting, but hey, it's a race; I'm just amazed they could run that fast at that point. I crossed the finish, got my shirt, had my wife put the medal around my neck, and than the greatest thing happened, my daughter woke up and gave me a huge smile!
What would you do differently?: Nothing, it was about survival.

Post race
Warm down: As I mentioned, I was just spent in every way, shape, and form. My wife really wanted to help me get packed up, but I convinced her to just get back to the hotel and out of the rain. I packed my bike up, went to collect my bags, and when I saw that there was no wait for a massage (duh, it took you 15 hours), got one, which I think is one of the reasons I was mobile on Sunday.
What limited your ability to perform faster: Same as in my Eagleman report, I wouldn't change anything. I trained as much as I could while maintaining a somewhat normal family life. I would have loved to finish closer to 13 hours, and I never had any serious doubts about finishing, but the mental aspect of doing something this long is something you can't (in my opinion) completely prepare for, especially your first time. People can say having a child is a wonderful thing, but you don't really "get it" until you do it. It's the same thing here. Anyone who even tries an iron distance event is amazing (and crazy), but you you don't really "get it" until you do it.
Event comments: I will say that packet pickup, etc. seemed a little disorganized, but other than that I can't say enough about the race and the volunteers. The time they put in, and the encouragement they provide, is amazing!

140.6

I've always been a cynic when it comes to Matt's newly developed athleticism. I think to myself, How can running 10 miles make you feel better when you could just sit on your ass and eat a chocolate bar with me. That always makes me feel better!

I've been supportive, but rarely excited about the triathlons.

I was not excited about the Ironman. I was supportive by holding my tongue and telling him good job no matter what I was actually thinking.

Yesterday changed my mind. Not enough to want to participate or even encourage more insanity. Yesterday changed my mind about the human spirit.

This is not what I thought this blog post would be about when I imagined what I would write days ago. I thought then I would fill this page with anecdotes about how we whiled away the day while Matt sweated. I thought I would write little quips about amusing Matt moments. Yesterday, I learned that there is little amusing about Ironman distance triathlon.

Matt's day, and the day of those who finished with him, started early. The clock started ticking at 7 am while Grace and I were still at home. We arrived around 10 am and had our first Matt sighting around 1 pm. He says the waves during the swim were about 1.5 feet high and the wind was like a brick wall during the bike. I saw he was tired and frazzled during that first 1 pm stop to refuel his water bottles and food pockets, but was not effected myself yet.

I knew he was tired when he finished his 112 mile bike ride and hobbled into the tented area to change into running clothes. I willed him with every thing I had to come out of the tent. I knew if he had his running shoes on he would finish the race, because what is the point of starting if you weren't going to finish, right?

I panicked when he came back to the home base after the first of the 3 laps required to fulfill the 26.2 mile run. I could see he was sunburt, his face was white with sweat salts and his pace was slow. Gracie and I kissed him and sent him out for another 9 miles.

That is when I started to understand.

The sun was starting to set and the rain was beginning to sprinkle on and off. The winners were already finished as Matt started his marathon. Others were still coming in off their bikes as my husband was beginning his second loop.

When the skies were dark and the rain began to fall heavy, I rocked Gracie to sleep in her stroller shielded with umbrellas. I sat there watching faces. That's when I understood. When the already lack luster crowd support all but disappeared. I couldn't blame them. It was cold and windy and raining, but I refused to move to my car. I needed to watch faces and clap for each runner.

There was an old man, his leg said age 70, doing the full triathlon. I saw him coming in from a distance. His hobble was distinct even at 9:15 pm. I clapped for him. Way to go! You're almost there! I was so sure he was finishing. He was moving so slowly. At 9:30 he was back in front of me again. He wasn't done. He still had one more lap to complete. 9 more miles, alone in the pitch black rain.

That's when I cried.

The determination was unbelievable. His is a poignant story, but it is everyone's story. I finally understood that it is more about determination that fitness and conditioning. Nobody looked good as the finished the marathon. OK, the first few people to finish the thing looked good, but do they really count?

My prospective on the sport, and what it means to accomplish something like this, is forever changed. And while I knew I could always depend on Matt for anything, his show of sheer willpower and expression of mind over matter has forever changed my opinion of him. I now have proof that Matt will fight to the end no matter what the challenge is. And win.

The old man did in fact finish, 22 minutes before the cut off time of 11:59 pm.

And Matt? He can now call himself Ironman with a completion time of 14 hours and 57 minutes.

Tactical Mistake

Upon Matt's return from Boston, he presented both Grace and me with gifts.

I got Beacon Hill Chocolates and Mike's Pastry cookies (becasue he couldn't figure out how to keep the cream in my beloved Lobster Tails freash for a day in the hotel and plane ride. Personally, I think he just wasn't being creative enough :) Seriously though, these things are good enough to be the sole reason for your trip to Boston.)

Gracie was presented with a Lucy the Lobster and Her Clacky Claws and this little finger puppet. ------------------>

Despite the truly clacking claw on the top, the book was a meh for Gracie. The tiny little finger puppet though! That is a winner. The puppet ate dinner with us last night. Literally. We had to tell her several times that plush toys do not belong on your dinner plate and that the lobster does not need to eat himself. Especially not my famous, I make them once a year because they are such a pain-in-the-butt, eggrolls.

Do you hear that Grace? Toy lobsters do not eat eggrolls!

Anyway, the lobster is LOVED. And at the grocery store I made a TACTICAL. MISTAKE.

At the fish counter I pointed out the live lobster tank. Shit.

I wasn't thinking, at least not all the way though to the repercussions of what I was doing. In my small minded 5 second thought process before I spoke, I assumed Gracie would squeal with joy over sighting the real thing and we would be on our way. Nope. The fish counter is only 1/2 way though our shopping routine. The first half of the trip she ate contraband, unwashed fruit and the second half she lamented with a wayward bellow for the lobsters.

Lober, where are you lober? Mama, where is lober? Is lober OK? I want it. I want to see lober. I want it. Lober, where are you lober? Mama, go see lober?

See what I mean? Shit.

I spend the next few minutes ignoring her questions, which were increasing in volume and pitch, to come up with a story. After Matt's request for Uncrustables was fulfilled (don't ask, but if you ever need them they are located on the bottom shelf of back corner behind the tequitos and pizza snacks at my gocery store), we fought traffic back to the fish counter.

OK, Gracie. One more stop by the lobsters. But they are sleeping and they can't come out of the water, OK? We will stop by and say hi one more time, but you'll have to wait until next week to see them again after, OK? OK?!?

And so we did. It went smoothly. Mama, I see them! Shh! lober sleeping. OK, we go now. I see again though?

When we got home Grace promptly told Matt, "Shh - lober sleeping" and walked away. But now? Now an extra 5 minutes is going to have to be built into every visit to the grocery store. Stuffing Lil' Rick into his Halloween lobster costume should be a big hit this year though.

The Junkie Monkey is Back

Matt has worked for three different Agencies during our years in Maryland.

The second Agency has posts all over the world and as such, Matt was expected to carry a blackberry at all times, day and night, incase something happened in Zimbabwe that needed his immediate attention.

*It NEVER did.*

He kept the blackberry by the bedside for the first month or so. The thing would inevitably start buzzing at 3am, not because there was a crisis, but because someone in China decided to send an email. You can’t really be mad at the schmuck in China, it was work related and it was broad daylight there, but I could be mad at Matt for keeping the thing 2 feet from his head and not getting any sleep. So the blackberry was banished to kitchen.

Like most work-a-holics, the crackberry really is just that. He can’t help himself. He hears the siren song of the buzz and is drawn. It is actually better when it buzzes, instead of being rendered completely silent, because in silence comes paranoia. What if? What if?!! So he checks it every 5 minutes.

Any you know what? There is ALWAYS a freaking email. I can go all day without a single email. Matt can’t seem to go 2 minutes without one.

Anyway, when he left that agency, he turned in the blackberry. I was thrilled. He hand withdrawal shakes for awhile.

At his now job, they have decided to feed the addict. The crackberry is back.

Matt told me that a few of the guys he regularly has lunch with have a nickname for him, ‘Meetings’. I know, it is far from clever, but it really is quite accurate. His office quickly recognized that he is smarter than the average bear and much, much smarter than the typical government employee, so he was assigned special projects. Which lead to more special projects. Which has led to multiple meetings daily. Which has lead to some fairly high level meeting and projects. Meeting and projects that will soon affect the daily lives of the American taxpayer. Which has lead to invitations for him to speak at conferences.

Which has led to this…. the crackberry.

It was determined that since his brilliant mind is away from the office so much, they wanted to still be in touch with him and presented Matt with a shiny, still in the box new blackberry.

Super.

The one plus to it though, is that it has internet. Matt pulled up Google for me without hesitation to show off his new toy. If he can pull up Google though, that means accessing my Google Reader isn’t that much of a stretch. And if the Reader is ok, Blogspot is a Google creation…. So maybe you will be getting up to date reports from our Outer Banks vacation next week.

Flash

For the first time EVER I think I am jealous of Matt's shoes.

I just bought him these. (At his request!)

They are the controversial Spira Stingers. I could care less what they are called though, I'm just kind of pissed that Matt has a pair of yellow shoes before I do. I've been shopping yellow flats for the last year and a half with no luck. Matt reads an article about the springs in these sneakers and BAM!, yellow shoes.

Humph.

I've been searching for a pair of yellow flats that I love forever. Not fair.

Fish Lips

One of my first solid memories of Matt is at a house party in college. My brother and I were each in our respective Sophomore years, and I wanted to take him out. Pretend like I was cool.

I know that I knew the host of the party, some such friend of a friend scenario, but those details are fuzzy. I remember both Jerry and I being handed plastic cups for the keg of beer, a persistent friend insisting that my brother chug beers with him (which I instead chugged and handed him back the empty cup) and Matt being by my side (helping chug the occasional beer too) for the majority of the night whispering Portuguese in my ear. As much as someone can whisper in a crowded, drunken, college house party anyway and he has still never told me what he was saying that night.

That night I learned that Matt was an adventurer and spent his Junior year of high school as an exchange student in São Paulo, Brazil. It was over the subsequent years that I discovered how much junk/memories he was hanging on to from that time too. I have badgered him down to one box of mementos, now stored in our basement.

Except for this fish.

I liked it, so it stayed out and it now resides in Gracie’s bathroom. So now that carved wooden fish is deeply engrained in our nighttime rituals. We start the bath, sit on the potty, play in the bath, brush teeth, towel off and then stop and give the fish a big hug and kiss goodnight.

It is an adorable ritual. Watching herself in the mirror, she hugs it sideways then flips it to face her and greets with a big kiss right on its fishy lips.

Isn’t it funny how memories from 20 years ago can be reborn into something even more beautiful today?

Dancin' Machine

Music and art is an emphasised standard for Gracie at daycare. Matt and I would like to take more credit for her growing love of dance and art and different from the everyday, but I know I have her teachers to thank.

Despite the credit going to us, spontaneous dance parties have become standard in our house. When Gracie was in inconsolable wailing newborn, two songs would calm her down. Matt bobbing like a mad-man to Peanut Butter Jelly Time with her and gently rocking while forcefully crooning (in Italian I might add) Con Te Partirò by Andrea Bocelli. I know, it was in fact a war of two worlds.

These days, we moved onto more - umm - mainstream pop songs. Particularly Matt's pick of Sexy Back and Gracie's pick of Single Ladies. I know, but dude, she knows the words. She sings along. It's not like I've played these songs a million times in repeat. She just likes them and at least Single Ladies have a semi positive message.

So last night there was a Timberlake/Beyonce dace party. I finally took some good pictures.

It starts with manic Blues Brother's esqe dancing and stomping.....

Then the wild swinging starts .....

Followed by rhythm drums being pounding out on old plastic containers absconded from the kitchen ....

Finally, the collapse.

Because, after two songs at that pace you know you'd want to collapse too.

Welcome to our world. Won't you come on in?

Tuesday Morning Blues

So you know back here, when I talked about Gracie not sleeping (and Matt yelled at me for making public threats against our daughter on my blog, not that anyone else would know about that... and besides, I was only kind of serious.)

Well, she's still not sleeping. It's only been a week, but it has been a hellish week. I take that back, it's been on and off for more than a month, but it's only been every night for the hellish week.

At first we kept chalking up the sleeplessness to teething. Remember this chart? I actually refer back to it often and it is probable that she's getting her back molars, which by all accounts, is painful. Shouldn't they have already come in though? How long can you blame bad sleep on teeth?

So last night we drew our line in the sand. Back to basics. We cannot be a co-sleeping family. I take up 2/3 of the bed and Matt is a very, very light sleeper. Every movement, every noise wakes him up and Gracie makes circles like Curley from the Three Stooges when she sleeps. We had to put an end to this, so we decided it's time for Night One of Operation Cry It Out.

According to Matt, the initial screaming only lasted 25 minutes. It makes sense, that is how long Gracie always took as an infant. Even then it was gut wrenching, but we knew at exactly minute 25 the exhaustion would give out. It did this time too, but there is a major difference between the screams of a pissed off 11 month old and a pissed offer 21 month old.

At 11 months old you are filled with self doubt. As a parent you question whether your doing the right thing. The cries are shrill and wild and a little bit fearful. At 21 months, we are confident that we are dong the right thing and Gracie knows exactly what she is doing too. We had previously stopped letting her cry it out because it would inevitably lead to barf. There was no vomit last night, just anger and confusion and all the air in the room being redirected through her lungs.

After awhile Matt went into her room, but following the guidelines never took her out of the crib. After the initial bellow, they came like reverse contractions. 30 seconds of screaming - pause for 2 minutes - 30 seconds of screaming - pause for 4 minutes - 30 seconds of screaming - pause for 6 minutes....

He laid on the floor near her until she finally fell asleep. He is a much stronger parent than I am. I would have cracked in the initial 25 if I had gotten out of bed. It is said that it takes 5 to 7 days to change sleep patterns. One down, hopefully not many more to go.