Blog

November 30
I ran this morning after taking a week and a half off due to illnesses and migraines, and boy did I feel the lack of running. I struggled through 3 1/2 miles, which two weeks ago would have been a walk in the park. It was a beautiful morning for a run - clear, cold, dry - but I was having to work too hard to keep up with the group to be able to enjoy it.

I've been so frustrated with my running over the past few months. I lost a lot of ground over the summer because of problems with migraine medications. I went weeks without running, and when I did run, I overheated to the point of having to sit on the side of the road so I wouldn't pass out. I finally felt like I had recovered somewhat and had put together some great runs, and then I got sick. Two Fridays ago I ran 8 miles and felt so good; I could have gone farther if I hadn't been out of time. I was looking forward to building on that base. But now I'm starting over again. If I'm lucky I'll make it through five miles for my long run on Saturday - if I'm lucky.

Decker is this weekend, and I gave up any hope of running it weeks ago. I'm disappointed because it's one of my absolute favorite races. Now I'm just hoping that I can stay healthy through December so that I can put together a good race for 3M at the end of January. I'll be devastated if I have to miss that race, too.

November 27
Despite lots of family turmoil and drama, our Thanksgiving celebration was exactly what I wanted it to be. We had a house full of people, family and friends, who wanted to be here and whom we wanted to be here. There was no one here out of obligation or guilt. We had a collection of funny, interesting people who were here to enjoy themselves. Brandon cooked up his usual masterpiece - this time it was a crown roast of lamb, and Sarah and I handled desserts. There are pictures of the spread, and of Brandon's beautiful roast, in our Web album at www.kodakgallery.com/hokgarder.

Of course, it wouldn't have been a holiday without illness. The night before Thanksgiving, Lily climbed in my lap, told me her stomach hurt, and projectile vomited all over me. I started gagging and heaving in response. Sarah and Brandon swooped in to help, while I changed my clothes. Lily slept for most of Thanksgiving day, and she's still not up to full speed. I'm still recovering from the cold I caught from the girls. As I predicted, it's taken me much longer to get over it than it did them. Stupid little kid germs.

Also, after months and months, I've updated my book log. The entries are brief, but it's been months since I've read some of the books. I also went through a spell where I couldn't finish any book I started, I think I'm through it now, at least I hope I am. I only have two unfinished books on my bedside table - Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts and Living to Tell the Tale by Gabriel Garcie Marquez. Someday maybe I'll finish them.

November 20
Stupid little kid germs - under a microscope they're probably big and hairy and covered in goo. The girls were each sick this week: Ella on Wednesday and Thursday, Lily on Friday and Saturday. And now I'm sick. I'd been feeling like I was trying to get sick all week, so I'd been megadosing on Vitamin c and other anti-oxidants and holding my own. I had the best week of running I've had in months. I ran five with the early group on Monday, five on my own on Wednesday, eight with the very early group on Friday, and three on trails yesterday. I felt so good on the eight-miler that I probably should have tried to add on some more. Saturday's trail run was more of fast hike than a run, but it was still a good workout. I had woken up feeling icky, but went to the run anyway because it was for Shelly's birthday. I think standing around and getting cold afterwards, despite having changed into dry clothes, did me in. I came home and took a shower and immediately felt like a load of bricks had been dropped on me. Brandon and I were supposed to go to they symphony, but we cancelled, and I was asleep by 9:30.

Today I felt better, but only slightly. The girls each recovered in about 24 hours, but I'll probably be sick all week. The cold will go into my lungs, and my asthma will flare up and I'll feel like I'm breathing through a straw. It figured that I get sick after a great week of running. Now I'm taking tomorrow off, and I'm not pleased about having to take a forced break. It's one thing if I decide to take time off. It's quite another if someone or something makes the decision for me. When I told Brandon that I had called my running friends and told them I was sick and not going to run, he was pleased. He said he would have been pissed if I had gotten up and gone running and then gotten sicker.

I know it's the right choice, but I still don't like it. Stupid little kid germs.

November 15
I'm a chicken's mother. I helped hatch a baby chicken last week, and she's still alive and peeping. Last Tuesday, when I arrived to pick up Ella at school, I wound up in the middle of a debate over who was going to take home an egg that was beginning to hatch. Somehow, I ended up being the lucky one. We brought home the incubator with the peeping egg and waited eagerly for the chick to pop out.

Several hours and lots of peeping later, still no chick. So I called my friend Kelley, who raises chickens. She came to the rescue and helped hatch Chicken Doodle, who had gotten stuck. Kelley said it was the thickest egg membrane she'd ever seen. After a few hours, I moved the chick out of the incubator and into a box with a heat lamp. Brandon, who had initially grumbled about my bringing the egg home, made a nice little nest out of shredded paper for the chick.

I went to bed convinced the chick wasn't going to make it through the night and I'd be branded as the mom who killed the class chicken. Brandon went into the closet about a half hour later, and I heard him talking to the chick. He came out and told me to go look at Doodle. I was stunned to see that she had gone from flopping around to walking and hopping and eating and drinking, all in about half an hour.

When I left the next morning, I was relieved to see that she was still alive. I got home to find the girls waiting for me on the sofa, desperate to see the chick. I took them back with baited breath, hoping that the chick hadn't croaked in the 90 minutes I was gone. Fortunately, she was hopping around quite happily.

We took the chick to school, and I was quite the hero. Everyone thought it was very funny that I had a friend who knows how to hatch chickens - what are the odds. Chicken Doodle lived in a box in the class room until yesterday, when the family who brought the eggs in initially returned from vacation. The two little girls were thrilled that one of the eggs hatched. They didn't even mind that the other two didn't make it. When Doodle gets big enough, he'll go to the twins' aunt's farm, and I have been assured that they don't eat the chickens who live there - only the eggs.

It's funny how attached I got to the thing. I made sure to check on her every day when I took the girls to school. I even picked her up and talked to her. I think she knew who I was. I'll miss being able to see her every day, and I truly hope that she doesn't end up as someone's dinner.

But I think you can't truly call yourself a mother until you've brought home a class pet for your child. Now that I've had a chicken in my closet, I qualify.

November 12
At least when Ella sneaks out of the house, steals the car and takes a road trip when she's 15 we won't be able to say she didn't warn us. Tuesday she came home from school talking about a secret plan she and her buddy Lisa had cooked up. She said she couldn't tell me because it was a surprise, but then the excitement of it all proved too great and she blabbed. The plan was for Lisa to sneak out of her house, get her parents' car, learn how to drive, and pick Ella up at midnight. Then they were going to drive to "Roarlando" to go to Disneyland (nevermind that Disneyland is in LA). They had even worked out where they were going to stay - the father of one of their classmates lives in "Roarlando" so they'd stay there. Ella was absolutely convinced that this was going to happen, and nothing I said - nothing - would convince her otherwise. She even had a suitcase packed by the door. I tried several times to explain that because Lisa is only five she can't drive a car and that Lisa's mother wasn't going to let her take the car. It didn't do any good. Finally I told her that IF Lisa showed up at our door at midnight with a car, Ella could go to Disney with her.

Brandon and I went out to dinner, and when we came home the babysitter, who is a teacher at the girls' school, asked if I knew about the Disney plan. She said that Ella was still awake because she didn't want to fall asleep and miss it when Lisa came to pick her up. Brandon and I promised to wake her up if Lisa arrived. Wednesday morning, she climbed into bed with us, genuinely upset that Lisa hadn't come for her in the night.

I told Lisa's mom all about this, and she cracked up. Lisa had kept popping out of bed Tuesday night, telling her parents they needed to go to bed. She was waiting for them to go to bed so she could get their keys!

These girls are only five, and they're already planning to sneak out. It's unbelievable. And they're still talking about it. Each night at bedtime Ella tells us that she might not be here in the morning because she might be leaving on her vacation with Lisa. And Lisa keeps asking her parents where they keep the car keys.

We are so screwed. I don't think we can let Lisa and Ella be around each other when they are teenagers. If this is what they're planning at age five, what are they going to come up with at 15?

November 8
On Friday, I did something completely out of character for me: I flew to Chicago for an over-night trip on 6 hours' notice. I'm a planner, a list-maker. I don't just up and take trips. For me to just hop up and go, was a huge breakthrough for me.

It all started at about 9:30 Thursday night when Brandon's dad called from Chicago to say that he had left behind the bag holding all of the banners and custom drapes he needed for his display booth at the big conference he was attending. Brandon started calling courier companies, looking for someone who could get the bag to Chicago by noon on Friday. Then he had to drive out to his dad's house to get his spare keys, drive to the office to get the company's FedEx number in the hopes that FedEx could ship the package in time, and then drive to the airport to find his dad's car in long-term parking and retrieve the bag. Before he left for all of this, we discussed the possibility that one of us would have to fly to Chicago. We had a frequent flyer ticket from Southwest we could use, so cost wasn't an issue. Brandon really didn't want to go because he didn't want to have both him and his father out of the office at the same time. I was hesitant to volunteer because of work, kids, appointments, etc.

I went to bed hoping that Brandon would be able to get FedEx to ship the bag. Brandon called about half an hour later asking if I wanted to be a courier. Once I woke up enough to really think about it, I decided to go for it. I had never been to Chicago, I have friends there I've been wanting to visit, and who knew when I'd have the chance to go again. So at 11:30 Thursday night I made reservations for a 6:50 am flight on Friday.

I threw things in my suitcase, hoping I'd remembered everything I needed, set my car keys by my phone and somehow managed to go back to sleep.

I don't remember the last time I flew by myself. It was so nice. I could leave for the airport when I wanted to - without having to wait for Brandon to make his one last cup of coffee or having to round up the girls and all their gear. I flew through the security check with my one small shoulder bag - my bag didn't even have any goldfish, crayons or juice boxes in it - and marched on the plane without any problem. During the flight I was able to read, doze, and listen to my iPod, all without having to take care of two kids, planning ahead for the next possible problem.

My father-in-law met me at the airport, and I handed off the bag of stuff that he needed. He drove me to Chiayu's house, and I was finished with my courier duties. I spent time at Chiayu's and went with her and Owen to his baby gym class. After that we walked to a neighborhood restaurant for lunch, and then she put me on the El for downtown. I checked into my hotel and then headed to the Art Institute.

I always forget how powerful it is to see great art in person. I had been desperate to see the Seurat, but that proved to be somewhat anti-climactic. It's behind glass, so you can't really get a feel for the layers and textures in the paint. I was far more blown away by Van Gough's "The Room" and Mary Cassatt's painting of a mother giving her baby a bath. I teared up standing in front of that one. Then there was the HUGE Georgia O'Keeffe painting of clouds from above. That one blew my socks off. I just stood looking at it for about 10 minutes. I've never seen anything like it.

After the museum I wandered around Millennium Park and then went back to the hotel to wait for Chiayu and John and Owen to arrive for dinner. I loved just walking around on the streets - there were people everywhere. The hustle and bustle was such a change from Austin. There were pieces of art just out on display, street performers playing drums, other tourists. I sat on the steps at the museum for a while and just watched the world go by.

Saturday I went running in the morning, doing a loop around the Field Museum and the Aquarium and taking a detour through Grant Park and Millenium Park. It was a good way to do some quick sight-seeing. After I changed I got some breakfast and wandered through gallery shops across from the Museum. Then I hopped on the El and headed back to the airport for home.

I wish I had listened to Brandon and stayed for another day. Once I was there, I realized just how much there was to do and see. It would have been fun to go to the Aquarium and the Field Museum. But I guess it's good to have something new for the next trip. I'm hoping to take Ella and Lily next summer, and Brandon if I can pry him away.

So the girls survived my 36 hours away, even if they didn't eat any fruit or vegetables the whole time I was gone. And they didn't take a single bath. But they went to Zilker Park with Brandon for a picinic and lived by "daddy rules." And I learned that I really can leave for a day or two without the world falling apart.

Next up: New York City for five days in January with Lisa and Heidi. Hooray!

November 2
This morning's run was one of the rare perfect ones that only come along once in a great while. It was cool enough for long sleeves and gloves, but not so cold that I needed tights or was freezing. The sky was so clear that it seemed like we could see all the stars, and the sun was just coming up. There was a thin line of bright orange in the east, with the sky changing from light to dark blue in the west.

We've decided to run Windsor on Wednesdays. Until this summer, Windsor was one of my favorite routes. It's on the streets, which is a nice break from the trail every morning. There are just enough hills to make it challenging, and there are gorgeous houses all along the route, which makes for nice scenery. This summer, however, I had a string of horrible runs on Windsor, including one where I ended up sitting on the curb, hyperventilating. I'd developed a mental block against the route.

Between today and last Wednesday, I've gotten over my fear of Windsor, and it's back to being one of my favorite routes. We started out nice and slow, which I love. We worked through the hills, and then on the last downhill along Exposition, we picked up the pace a lot. The last bit on Lake Austin was at a good enough pace that I couldn't talk. I finished feeling like I'd accomplished something real with the run, rather than just shuffling through a couple of miles on the trail. Jennifer, being the great runner that she is, finished way ahead of us. She said she was feeling euphoric at one point.

When I got home, Brandon asked how the run was. I said "Outstanding!" so enthusiastically that he thought I was being sarcastic. He gave me a funny look until I said, "No really, it was a great run." They don't come along that often; it's the kind of run that keeps me running, even through the bad ones.