Where oh where has my little blog gone?

I can't believe I haven't written an update in a month. A whole month. That's a long time. 30 days. We move in less time than that. But life gets busy and blogging gets relegated.

Anyway. Here's an update:

I'm training for the Thanksgiving Day 10K that's happening on, well, Thanksgiving, as the name implies. Pre-Sam, this would not have been an issue. I've run the race twice before. But now, my body has changed so much and finding the time and energy to train has been a real challenge. I have scaled back training to running three times a week and stretching occasionally, even though I "should" be cross-training and lifting weights as well. But there are only so many hours in the week and I don't feel guilty. Except that my two long runs of the last two weeks have been SHIT. Last week I walked the 4.5 miles instead of running it (and to give you an idea of how unbelievably slowly I run, I finished the walk in almost the same time I would have finished the run). It felt okay. Then yesterday, I set out for my 5 miles and foolishly forgot to take any fuel with me. Duh. So after about 45 minutes, my body decided to go into glucose-less mode and I had to concentrate on merely putting one foot in front of the other and just making it home, since I don't tend to carry a cell phone on my runs. I made it home eventually and scarfed a peanut butter and banana sandwich on whole grain and felt better for about five minutes, after which I was ravenous again. I will no longer believe myself to be super human (despite thinking I could fit right in on "Heroes") and set out to run more than 4 without fuel to keep me going. I almost decided to bag the race entirely on the trek home, but after the PB and banana, I decided fuel, rather than giving up, was the way to go. So I'm testing my fuel theory on my 5.5 run this weekend. And I've resolved to add the cross training back in at some point after we move--hopefully before February (when Sam goes to school two days a week) but it's all up in the air.

In other news:
I am living amid boxes and boxes and more boxes. Par for the course for moving, I know, but to my anti-clutter mind, it's simply maddening. I have to bite my tongue and my lip and everything else within my teeth's reach to keep from lashing out at the kids and Marc (unfairly, of course) because I am frustrated with my surroundings. I keep inwardly saying "it's temporary, it's temporary" and I keep hoping that eventually it will sink in.

But that brings up the whole "how do I really feel about moving" dilemma. There are things about this house that I can't wait to say goodbye to. For one, I can't use the toilet in the master bath because apparently I don't have the right touch when I flush it and it spews water out of the tank if I attempt to flush. It's a long story. We know what's wrong with it, but the part isn't cheap and Marc's rationale is "we're moving--why fix it?" Whatever. So anytime I have to go, like before a shower, I inevitably forget and then get ready to shower and then have to go to the hall bath to go and then back to the master bath to shower and it's a pain. So I'm looking forward to that process ending soon.

I'm also looking forward to having no mature trees. I love mature trees--they are beautiful to look at. But they suck to have to mow around and the leaves are a pain when they fall. Since our new house is only five years old and the neighborhood's age matches, the plethora of leaves from mature trees will be conspicuously absent for a few years. I know I'll miss the shade in the summer and I will probably complain about it, but for the moment, amid many more leaves than I can shake a rake at, it's something to look forward to.

I can't wait for a first floor laundry room.

I'm looking forward to meeting new people. Well, in theory. In truth, though I may appear outgoing to the average person, my hearty gusto and witty party quirks are merely a cover up for the insecurity I feel when meeting new people. In my subconscious, I figure, well, if they're going to judge me, I'll really give them something to talk about. It's left over from my college and acting days, I guess. Inside, I hate large gatherings and small talk. I'm really bad at both of them, which is why I was miserable in my sorority and eventually quit, and why I tend to despise large gatherings in general. Which is one of the reasons I do the Thanksgiving Day race, by the way--so I have something to talk to all those relative about. But I digress.

I will miss my community here, but it's hard to think that way, since we will be about 1/2 hour away from it when we move. Close enough to get back when I want to. But I know that to really "move," I need to make an effort to meet new people and make the new community my home. So I'm going to try and do my best.

If you are still reading, I commend you for fortitude. This has got to be boring. But I'm making up for a month of not blogging. The move date is Nov. 27, if you're keeping score.

In other news:
My daughter woke me up at 6:30 this morning to a) get her a cup of water and b) do a monster check. Grudgingly, because I knew I wouldn't get any peace until I accomplished these two tasks, I got up and did them. No sooner had I rearranged the covers and snuggled in than she called out "Mom! Can you start my story?" (she listens to Winnie the Pooh stories on CD to fall asleep. I can't fault her because I do the same thing with Harry Potter sometimes) I feebly called back "no," and then her voice escalated in decibels and rather than have her wake Sam, I pulled my weary, sore ass out of bed and pushed the button. My hip is killing me from yesterday's run/walk and I have to locate a tennis ball in all the mess to rub over my left IT band if I have any hopes of running this week at all.

Today's agenda involves a trip to the Children's Museum with a friend and her two kids. We have tried to do this for almost a month, every Monday, but it has yet to happen because of one of the four kids always being sick or having a previously scheduled doctor's appointment. So we'll try again today. After that, I will come home to do some laundry in the basement (sigh, only two more weeks of that), and then cobble something together for writing class tonight, since this is the first writing I've done in two weeks.

I could write about my voice recital or the public read-around, or the "discussion" (fight) that Marc and I had last night about the value of my staying home with the kids vs. getting a job to increase our income and make our lives a little more financially comfortable, but I won't bore you with details. Instead, I will post a pic of the kiddos at Halloween. For the uninitiated, Sydney is Angelina Ballerina (char in a children's book--a mouse who has great ballet ability) and Sam is Angelina's cousin Henry. My stepmom made some of Syd's costume and all of Sam's.




And I will just mention that I finished High School Confidential, which was a really interesting and scary read. I haven't been out of hs that long, and I recognized some of the stuff that went down, but damn, I'm so glad I'm not there now.