Punctuated Equilibrium, Changes and Almost a Year

I was a biology major. In college I was introduced to the concept of punctuated equilibrium, and it has stuck with me. Punctuated equilibrium and gradualism are both part of the evolutionary theory. Gradualism suggests that change occurred slowly over time. Punctuated equilibrium disagrees suggesting that the fossil record doesn't support gradualism. Rather, huge changes happened all at once and then everything settled down for a while.

I never taught biology after student teaching so may not have the theory exactly correct after all these years. Forgive me, but our lives have gone through some punctuation this year, and I could use a little equilibrium. I feel like the ground rumbled under my feet and a new landscape emerged. Because it did.

We planted this tree when we moved in 11 years ago.
It had a V but one part was broken in a storm. It's grown.

When I was in graduate school, I had a friend in a counseling program who was taking a class on change. A whole class. And he had books all about change: the nature of change, helping people with change and the effects of change. It seems many people have trouble finding the equilibrium or the "new normal." I'm not alone. Personally, I know I suck (I mean "grieve badly") at goodbyes especially when I don't know what lies ahead.

Let's recap. In the past year, one of our dogs passed away, we went to China to pick up my son, and we moved. All the while still doing the regular parts of life, like homeschooling, teaching and taking classes. There were doctors' appointments all over the county. Buying a house and selling a house. Packing all of our stuff and then unpacking (not really yet) all of our stuff. Doing homework until midnight. Grading and instructing. And we went back in time to diapers, nap time and strollers. Add in language acquisition, sleep issues and toddler tantrums. Leaving our home and neighborhood of 11 years. Settling into a new neighborhood. Travelling too. Rumble. Rumble.

Last time on the swing set

I've put on some weight. Actually, my son and I are pound for pound. His is catch up weight. Mine, not so much. It may be stress related. Last year at this time we were scrambling for flights and getting our ducks in a row to go. It's hard to believe it has almost been a year. It's been hard, but the good hard that stretches and grows you. Patience and perseverance isn't learned on the sofa with a bag of chips. I wish. My son has come so far. A friend was listening to him talk yesterday and understood him. Huge deal. His most used phrase is "I got it" because he thinks he can do everything himself. Everything. Two year old boy.

Everybody is tired. 

I am thankful that I can run again this year. Running with people like Bobbi, Kate, Carrie, Emily and Julie has been a saving grace. My ankle gets cranky, and I listen. I've already run two half marathons this season, Wisconsin and Grandma's. They are both great races, and I had good races. Win. Win. I did the Esprit de She Naperville Tri as well. I love that tri. It's fun and fancy. It was also my first time in the water at the race as well as the longest bike of the year. I'm training for the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon in Oct and finished the first of the really long runs this past weekend. I'm not as strong as I'd like to be, but things are different. And that's okay.

Miles, smiles and sole sisters.

School is starting. My husband is back. My classes to take start today. Half my brood are going to school this year, and they are starting the same time my classes to teach start. We are keeping it classy. We will be a mixed family: homeschool and public school. I hope both sides are kind as we ride the fence. They can get pretty polar. I think it is what is best for us right now.

Anyway, this is long. Sometimes bloggers talk about little changes in their lives day by day or week by week. This year I couldn't do it. I didn't have the time, and I didn't have it in me. I hope to get back to a balance where I am posting more often. If I don't, life is still in flux and the landscape is still changing. Did I mention we also started potty training today?

The Poinsettia is Acid/Base Wise

Yesterday, I didn't post the winner of the reflective headband. After the holiday long weekend, I had laundry up to my eyeballs. I used a random number generator to pick the winner. Congratulations Barb (and her friend Chris) on your headbands. I picked up yarn today, and I have some online training to do for work so those headbands will be done pronto.

So, I got this poinsettia from a raffle at Jazzercise class (Yes, Jazzercise. It's fun, and that's another post). As a science teacher I was so excited. You see, poinsettias are acid/base indicators. It is not as dramatic as red cabbage, but it still indicates, and it smells better.

Here's what I did, and you can to. Gather all the things you want to test (clear solutions are better as color affects color), a poinsettia, a French press (or something to make your 'tea' in), containers to test in (we used glasses), hot water, and eager helpers.

Have your super helpers take the red leaves off and put them in the French press. It does take a lot of leaves. It actually helps to rip the leaves or cut them up. On a side note you can use the green leaves too but the solution goes from green to clear rather than green to red. It's a fun secondary test if you have the time and the ingredients.

Steep the leaves. The 'tea' should be a red-brown color.

Remove the leaves. The longer it steeps the better. The more concentrated the 'tea' the better the color.

Set up your testing materials. Add water to powders like baking soda, salt, baking powder, and borax. We diluted all the containers so the color was not as striking but it was detectable.

Give the little information on acid and bases. Ask questions on which ones do you think are acids and which one do you think are bases. Why?

What is up with this picture? The milk has a hue.

Remember that the orange juice affect the color. It is pink at initial mixing.

I take fabulous pictures; I know it. You'll have to trust me on the colors. Anyway, the acid solutions are pink. The basic solutions are green, and the neutral solutions are brownish. We didn't put them in order from acidic to basic yesterday, but we have done it before. We did mix it all together to see what colors they would make. I, being the geeky teacher, did ask if the new solution was more acidic or basic. Our big bucket in the end was slightly acidic.

Give it a try if you have a chance. It's an easy experiment, fairly clean and definitely seasonal.

Women, Education, STEM and a Masculine Mind

"Let it not be said, whenever there is energy or creative genius, 'She had a masculine mind.'" - Margaret Fuller

A few months ago I had an older student ask, "Why aren't there very many women in math?" It was a good question. I've been pondering it, and I think in light of the kidnapped Nigerian girls, I'd try to answer it to my limited ability. I don't really have a complete answer as I am one woman with a limited exposure in math and science, but I have thoughts. Buckle up.

First, I'd like to open up the question to "Why aren't there very many women in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math)?" In college my biology classes were full of women. (The soft science) In chemistry the numbers got lower (The semi-hard science or the semi-soft science) and in physics (The hard science), even fewer. I took engineering physics at one of the top engineering school in the nation. I remember being one of two women in a lab class. The other woman was all, "Girl Power! Let's best these guys!" And I was definitely, "I just want to pass." The numbers of women in my math courses also decreased as the courses became more complex . What's up, Ladies? Where are you?

As for my personal experience, I grew up in a science house. My dad and mom were scientists. I remember dinner conversations that were scientific and completely beyond my understanding. Boy, these peas taste great. Having a science family helped create an encouraging math-sci environment for me. My parents, particularly my dad, believed in equality of the sexes. That helps even more. My dad says with regularity that he grew up in one of the most egalitarian societies in the world. No, it's not here. The only person who told me that I couldn't do something was me. I'm awesome at thwarting my own efforts. Thank you very much. My family, my micro-community, easily negated social messages that said science is for boys or that math is hard. Oh Barbie, even you can learn.*

Educating women is fairly historically new, and it's definitely not global. #bringbackourgirls. Unfortunately, when women have gone against the social grain historically there has not been a celebration or a warm reception. The seas do not part. There is often hostility. It is like cutting a new path through tall grass with a machete. Tiring. Sweaty. A horrible stink. Putting forth great effort often looks like a hot mess. You have to be ready for a pretty crappy time. I am not a trailblazer, nor did I sign up for it, but I find in just moving forward in math and science that the path is not well worn by women. I am so thankful for those who I can look ahead and see, like professors and scientists. What about the women who are themselves pioneers and can not see other women ahead of them? Women around the world being the first to get an education in your family. You are amazing. Take my strength. Don't lose heart.

So I am quoting Margaret Fuller all over the post today. I was introduced to Margaret Fuller in a U.S. literature class in college. She said some pretty profound things in the 1840s. Almost two hundred years later, her quotes resonate. She was an American Transcendentalist who basically said that, of course, every person wants to be an enlightened man; no enlightened man wants to be a women. Why? Because the social position of women has been wife, mother, cook and housekeeper. There was little room for books, philosophy, science and mathematics which involve extended time as well as thought and often a good housekeeper. She was a voice outside of the men's philoshophy club that said, "Hey, I can't find the door." It looks great for the people inside thinking about greater society but what about the greater society that isn't allowed in.

"In order that she may be able to give her hand with dignity, she must be able to stand alone" - Fuller

So back to the question, "Why aren't there are more women in math and science?" There is definitely not one answer. And the factors work together even though they don't plan to. There are collective forces. To name a few...

• Straight up sexism. Just a girl. I'm just a girl in the world.
• Social pressures. Women are marketed for their parts not for their brains. Seriously, marketing parts.
• Gender education. Girls play with dolls. Boys build things. 
• It's challenging. Some sciences are physically challenging as well as mentally challenging. Math is so mental. Letters and numbers, come on.
• Discouragement. Possible and probable failure. Struggling for success is tiring.
• Loneliness. 
• Feeling or looking 'different.' Nerd. Geek. A masculine mind.
• Role models overshadowed by fad models. I love you Mayim Bailik and Danica McKellar.
• People, influential people, telling them the can't or shouldn't. People say dumb things. I am everyday people, btw.
• Thinking how teachers or influential people think about them. Women emote and are empathic. People say dumb things or look us in a way that we take to heart even if they are not true. And it collects in our minds and beings.
• And of course, the tyranny of the urgent. Somebody has to cook, clean, and help fulfill all the other lower properties of Maslow's hierarchy.

There are barriers both real and imaginary. The barriers are internal and external. Thankfully, times, they are a changin'. Let me be clear, not every girl should grow up to be a scientist or a mathematician, but they should have the opportunity to do so if they wish. If they have the talent, we should encourage them and applaud their development. And it shouldn't be so hard for them to find the door. So, Ladies, young and old, if you want to pursue math and science, getting all STEM like, I'll try to clear a path for you.

"We would have every arbitrary barrier thrown down. We would have every path laid open to women as freely as to men. If you ask me what offices they may fill, I reply ---any. I do not care what case you put; let them be sea captains." - Fuller

Smart girlios...stay clever.

*Do you want to encourage some science and math in your home but don't know where to start? Try GoldieBlox or Snap Circuits. Buy a microscope or a telescope. Investigate.

3.14 Ways to Improve Your Mathematical Intuition

When I went back to school to get my math endorsement, my teachers in several classes asked us to use our 'mathematical intuition'. The term caused me to furrow my brow. What is mathematical intuition?

I knew of intuition. Merrill-Webster defines it as a natural ability or power that makes it possible to know something without proof or evidence, a feeling that guides a person to act a certain way without fully understanding why or something that is known or understood without proof or evidence. Going with your gut. Your first instinct. You have a feeling. A sixth sense. Back when I was in the pre-married world and dating, people would tell me, "When you know, you know."* People trust their intuition.

The part of definition that says "without proof or evidence" seems like a contradiction to mathematics. However, after taking a few courses, I understood better what mathematical intuition is. It's building a trust in your own mathematical abilities. In the past we've used words like 'reason' or 'common sense,' but those do not encompass the feeling of confidence that people should have in math and their ability to do math. "That answer feels wrong." "Something doesn't add up." "Something has gone awry." Having good mathematical intuition helps you see when the math isn't right. And with math all around us - life is a story problem- being able to trust your mathematical intuition is important.

So here are 3.14 ways to improve your mathematical intuition:

1. Recognize Patterns: A key part of mathematics and the applied mathematics all around you is recognizing patterns. I'm one of those people who looks at how gas prices move and wonders what was going on in the geopolitical world that caused the movement. I look at big patterns. When are milk prices the lowest during the year? When are certain vegetables in season? How much is packaging and product shrinking? There are also small patterns. How fast do my girlios grow through shoes? How many times does my dog have to bark before someone let's him out? How many calories am I eating daily? We recognize patterns in people's and animal's behavior. Start recognizing patterns in numerical behavior. There is no need to obsess in the patterns. Just recognize them and their anomalies.

2. Estimate: In order to guess better guess often. On the days that we go grocery shopping together, my husband and I over/under the bill. Guess on how much gasoline will fill the tank. Guess on how many steps to the mailbox. Guess on how long it will take you to get to work or school. Guess how much that new phone will cost with its down payment and installments. Make those numbers real. When I was in my science education classes in college I read about the Nobel Prize physicist Richard Feynman.** After Richard and his father read about T-Rex's height in the encyclopedia Richard's father explained to Richard that the dinosaur's head would fit through their second story window. I loved that. Richard's father was making the numbers real. Estimating not only can be used for guessing answers. It can also be used to show ratios, to equate values, to make numbers tangible and to build mathematical intuition.

3. Try and Err: To build some trust in your mathematical intuition, you have to test your mathematical intuition. Just like your regular intuition builds off of what you have already experienced, your mathematical intuition needs some experience. Positive experience. I do a lot of math tutoring on white boards. Why? Because white boards are forgiving. Easy to erase. People have a hard time making mistakes and getting past them. In math, you may have to make a lot of mistakes before getting it right. And when you get it right, you probably won't trust yourself until you have done it enough to feel comfortable with it. This may take some time. Just like breaking bad habits and replacing them with good habits takes repetition so does building your mathematical intuition.

0.14...Don't Fear Fractions: Fractions may not become your friends, but they are necessary. We use them in money without a second thought. A quarter really is a quarter of a dollar, 1/4. Cents are one hundredths. Decimals, which seem to make people much more comfortable, are really fractions in disguise. Decimals are fractions hiding in a base ten system. You often buy things in fractions without knowing it. Milk is sold by the gallon. Meat and vegetables are sold by the pound. Gasoline is sold by the gallon. Those are all fractions. Yes, the word 'denominator' seems like it has the word 'demon' in it, but it doesn't.

Good luck improving your mathematical intuition. Have your pi and eat it too.


*That always caused me to furrow my brow too. 50% of marriages end in divorce. Should I trust my 'know'? Statistically, intuition didn't seem very trustworthy, and yet people often trust it wholeheartedly. There are times when my normal intuition and mathematical intuition collide.

** Richard Feynman's books are fantastic. He's writes well and is very down to earth.

The Waiting Place

"You can get so confused

that you'll start in a race

down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace

and grind on a miles across weirdish wild space,

headed, I fear, toward most useless place.

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go

or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite

or waiting for the wind to fly a kite

or waiting around for Friday night

or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake

or a pot to boil, or a Better Break

or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants

or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.

Everyone is just waiting"

- Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss

I don't pray for patience. I don't pray for patience because there is only one way to learn patience. It involves waiting. And waiting involves giving up control.

This winter has been a particularly good lesson in waiting. In Chiberia we have had the repeated snow-cold-snow sandwich since November. Often we hope for a snow fall before or around Thanksgiving. This year there were three snowfalls before Thanksgiving, and there has been some form of precipitation every 72 hours. I, like so many, am waiting for the weather to break. For Spring. For above freezing temperatures. It, however, is out of my control, so I wait. Waiting.

Two other factors in my life have made this the Waiting Winter. I'm waiting to heal, and I am waiting for our son. I have not run since Jan 1st. Tomorrow is March 1st. This make me sad. Thankfully, the weather has not been cooperative, but it doesn't still take away my desire to run. The healing road has been long, and although it is fruitful, there is still a distance to go. Just waiting.

I am also waiting to meet our son. Waiting for a match. Our dossier is filed, and I am paper pregnant. Unlike my past pregnancies, I don't know what I'm having or when I'm having it. I don't know how old my son will be, and therefore I can't plan. I don't know when I will meet him or what he looks like. It's completely out of my hands. I wait and pray. So much waiting.

Waiting wears on me. I think it wears on everyone. I have friends who are also in the Waiting Place. They are going through tough times, and they are waiting for change or relief. It can't come fast enough, and it feels like it isn't coming at all.

So what perspective can I offer as I see the forecast for snow again this weekend? Hope. There has to be hope or waiting will wear me away. Hope offers minor relief  and gives me strength to endure. The two days of above freezing weather when the sun shone remind me that Spring will come. It may take its own sweet time, but it will come.

My physical therapist asks me every week how I am doing and how my pain is. Although I can't run yet, I notice change. Last night I extended my foot in bed, and it didn't hurt. That's progress. The exercises I do at PT are often painful and take a lot of concentration. It's exhausting. And the exercises seem so trivial, but they are paying off. I got my inserts this week, and my physical therapist said I could run in two weeks. An end in sight. Hope. Strength to endure.

As far as our adoption. I am thankful for the woman at the agency who is working on our behalf. It is in her capable hands, and I have hope in that. I also have a full life plate right now. Distraction can be another form of hope. It reminds me that one thing does not have to be a consuming focal point. If I wait for the pot to boil, so to speak, I will miss out on all the other things around me. I don't have control over it anyway so I try not to worry about it. Distractions. Breaking up the waiting.

I'm also not alone in the Waiting Place. It is so easy to feel alone here. I'm not alone, and all it takes is a little vulnerability to find someone else was sitting next to me all along. Community. Yes, there is a temptation for group complaining. Misery does love company, but there is also a great opportunity to build one another up and encourage each other forward. Eyes ahead. Chin up. Arms locked. Waiting together. There is hope and strength.

"Somehow you'll escape

all that waiting and staying.

You'll find the bright places

where Boom Bands are playing"

-Dr. Seuss

To all the waiters, I wish us Boom Bands.

What I'm Getting for Valentine's Day

First of all, we are not a mushy couple. We don't do much for each other on Valentine's Day. We have three girlios who do daily crafts, and there is so much pink, purple and red in my house we practically live in Valentine's Day. My husband gives the girlios gifts every year* as my dad did for me when I was a kid, and I fondly remember. The girlios get a little chocolate and a piece of clothing. Clothing is normally clearance during February (bonus), and we figure it lasts longer than candy. They use it and remember when they got it.

Anyway, we do ask each other what we want for Valentine's Day. Some years I've gotten jewelry and, there is definitely chocolate. I couldn't resist getting B a mug this year that says "A beer for my dear." I told my husband that I wanted a marathon for Valentine's Day. I don't know which one because we don't know when we'll pick up our son, I start PT tomorrow, and things are up in the air. I have my mind on Grandma's or Milwaukee. I'd just like to do one marathon this year.

I work part-time five days a week usually at night. For the last couple days, I've been coming home from work to a cleaner house. The clothes are put away. The dishes done. Everything is tidied. My husband asked me last night if I figured out the gift that he's been working on. I said, "A clean house."

He said "Well, partly. You said you wanted a marathon for Valentine's Day. I'm giving you the gift of time. If I get these things done, you will have more time to workout, train, or get other things done."

This morning I came downstairs, and the more organized house settled me. Things I would do first thing in the morning are done. I already notice more time. Quite a gift.

He is such a keeper.

Imagine this all over my house all year round :)

*Ok, I buy them, but I'm the shopper.

These are a few of my favorite (holiday) things...

As measurable snow has fallen and the air is definitely cold, this is my follow up post to the ways the holidays kill my holiday spirit. Thank you for letting me vent about the holiday craziness. However, I remind myself that holiday is a compound word - holy day - and to treat it that way.

Here are some of the things I love about the holidays...

• Our family traditions - Every year we read The Advent Book taking turns opening a door everyday until Christmas. The book tells the Christmas story and on Dec 25 behind the big red door is baby Jesus. By Christmas my girlios have their pages memorized. We also read The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever, which is a great book for any age. Our Christmas morning tradition includes not any opening gifts until breakfast is eaten and all cleaned up. Apparently, the girlios have noted, Christmas breakfast includes bacon.
• The opportunity to bless others - I know the holiday season has begun when Operation Christmas Child boxes come out. My girlios love shopping, packing and giving to children around the world. There are so many opportunities to give during the season - meals, adopting a family, shoveling, etc. We try to be cheerful givers. It really is better to give than to receive.
• Pretending that I do crafts - My craft graveyard suggest that I have good intentions but little productivity. However, I like to believe that I am crafty. And since I have 'free' time in the holidays, I like to make and create things. Sewing, scrap booking, knitting, crocheting. Small projects normally get done. Long term projects drop by the wayside (and into the graveyard) when the holidays are over.
• Reading books - Since I have been involved in academia since the dawn of time, I don't get a lot of time to read for pleasure. I read some great books to the girlios during the school year but the holidays offer me the chance to read books of my choosing. I love getting lost in a book. I like, as Bobbi puts it, a book hangover. Losing track of time, staying up way too late, getting lost in a book, laughing or crying, and speaking in the same dialect for the rest of the day are things I love about reading. Fiction, nonfiction. Classic, fluff. History of civilization, history of math, history of dumplings. Sweet holiday reading.
• Warm beverages, fleece and blankets - One word: coziness. I love snuggling in blankets with a warm cup in hand. Sometimes it is with a book. Sometimes it is just sitting. Normally, there is a dog at my side and one at my feet. We can fit a surprising number of people on the couch.
• Playing in the snow - There is sledding, skiing, snowshoeing, snowball fights, snowmen, snow angels. We love it as a family. If the snow is falling it is usually between 20-30 degrees, and we can tolerate it. Of course, there is cocoa afterwards. I love winter running too.
• Using the oven - In the summer turning on the oven is oppressive. During the holidays my baking switch turns on. Turning on the oven sends heat and smells around the house. Since I have a little more time, I can experiment with recipes, stock up the freezer and make old favorites. It satisfies my creative desires too.
• Hanging out with my family - The holidays are a special time for my family to be together. We could be playing a game together, cooking together, or reading books/playing in different parts of the house. There is just a peace when we are all together. Yes, we still have to referee girlio scuffles, but even the dogs know when the pack is all together. A special bonus is seeing  member of the extended family - G'ma, G'pa, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. It's nice to catch up and spend time together.

I wish you Happy Holy Days. Set them apart and fill them with peace, love and joy. Blessings!

A weary mom's pep talk

Today I have been in a funk. I must have woken up under a dark cloud. I'm tired. Just tired. Tired of washing the same dishes, washing the same clothes, and cooking in general. I didn't want to be responsible. Being a mom and working seemed too much. The day felt long from the moment it started, and I was struggling.

So today I thought about the encouragement I wanted to hear. Here are a few things I heard.

• It's okay to let the dishes wait. They'll be there when you are ready.
• You don't have to make a gourmet meal. Simple still fills stomachs.
• Take time for yourself. Don't feel guilty about a moment of sanity.
• It's okay to close and even lock the bathroom door.
• You don't have to do all the laundry today. Try for one load.
• Your kids are only this age for a moment. Spontaneously hug them even though they are driving you crazy.
• It's okay to sit down.
• Change it up a bit. Change it up a lot if need be.
• Turn up the music if you like this song. Dance maybe. 
• It's okay to be good enough today.
• Today is not a reflection of tomorrow.
• Today may bend you, but it won't break you.

My day wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible. Partly cloudy when the forecast looked like rain. If you're a tired mom like me, I hope you find this encouraging. There are many many days we need it. There is hope on the drudgery days.

Top 10 reasons the holidays kill my holiday spirit

I'm not trying to be Scroogie. Really, I'm not. I promise to write a follow up about what I love about the holidays. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and then suddenly it's December. I blink, and then it's 2014.The holiday season is in full swing, and I'm already stressed.

So here's my mental/emotional unload (aka whining) about how the holidays rob me of holiday joy.

10. I have more lists: During the holidays I have an extra list or two to plan gifts going out in a timely manner (normally a fail), holiday pictures/cards (still have last years) and projects to do during our time off (snicker away). This is on top of my normal lists

9. Expecting some relaxing family time and not getting enough of it: We have to do all those things we didn't have time for on the regular list or things to do the extra list. (To make sure we get some time, I put it on my list.)

8. All the candy: Halloween is the official start of eating badly when there is some kind of holiday all the way through February. Stupid Take 5 bars. How many calories was that?

7. All the starchy fatty food: Let's face it. Thanksgiving food is the same color as the leaves in Autumn. A good portion of it is shiny. Homer Simpson when rubbing the food on paper and seeing the oil spot said "It's the window to weight gain." And the gateway to elastic waistbands.

6. It's cold: The snow is beautiful and fun to play in. However, after a day or two it's gray and dirty. The single digit and negative wind chills suck.

5. It's dark outside: Nothing says "Celebrate!" like waking up in the dark and the sun going down at 4 pm.

4. Making small talk: I am terrible at small talk. I am great at staring awkwardly and ending a conversation feeling like a fool. I love catching up with my family and going to minglings with friends, but, oh, the humanity. I'll just eat my words; they have no calories.

3. Getting the family dressed up: We are not fancy people. We are barely matching people. What do you mean you don't have shoes? Those are your only stockings? Why didn't I put those on my list?

2. Commercializing the holidays: Skip the meaning and get to the marketing.  Are the 4th of July holiday decorations out yet? I need to get a jump on those.

1. Brown Thursday: Is it only called Thanksgiving until 6 pm when the specials start? Can we just wait a day?


Happy Thanksgiving. Happy Hanukkah too. Blessings to you as the holiday roller coaster begins.

Steps of Faith

Today is National Adoption Day, and November is National Adoption Month. For those of you who do not know, our family is in the process of an international adoption. This week, completely coincidently, a big milestone in our adoption process took place. Our dossier was logged in China. The process to this point has been fairly bureaucratic. Our home study and dossier involved paperwork, interviews, doctor's visits, webinars and more paperwork. This week when the official letter came I felt pregnant again.

Here's our journey in a nutshell. We talked about adoption when we married. Two of our own and then adopt. We had two. Surprise #3 came pretty quickly after. We put adoption to the side. We brought it up again. We started talking to an agency. Before submitting our application we felt God might be pulling us another way. We hosted a child through Safe Families. We realized we still had a heart for adoption. We approached another agency. A year and a half later, here we are. And now we wait.

If you ask me how I feel, I would answer, "I don't know." Having a log in date did make my pulse race. There was panic and elation. We have really tried to keep our expectations limited. This week at the library I checked out 'The Odd Life of Timothy Green.' We sat down to watch it last night and I didn't know much about the story line. I was a perfect movie for where we were as a family in our process. The story is about a couple at an adoption center telling their story. They are unable to conceive a child but are miraculously given the child of their dreams, Timothy, for a short time. Timothy is different, having leaves on his legs. As parents, they make mistakes, they learn about themselves, they protect Timothy, they make mistakes upon their mistakes, they hover and they learn their dream child does not act as they expect. They are parents. We choked back tears. Okay, I let a few spill. I left the film comforted.

I didn't know what personality my children would have when they were born (and they are all very different). We adjusted as a family. That's what I expect. That's part of being in a family. And I'll make mistakes. Probably mistakes upon mistakes. I pray for our son and for my family and for us together.

I'm sure that there will be questions and comments. My friend Laury has some great insights on being respectful. (Unfortunately or fortunately, we field them now. Three times this week someone has asked if my two youngest girlios are twins. Umm. No.) Laury has gone through the process more than once and seeing her family regularly encourages me.

As I write this 'Happy Birthday' is playing in Chinese for the 50th time (because my girlios love the cd and know how to hit the repeat button), and my daughter just showed me a picture of the Great Wall of China she painted.

And we all move forward.

Marathon Week Anxiety, Phobias and Superstition

Yesterday as I was switching from my Birkie sandals that I wear around the house to my winter Birks** my socks slipped on our flat bamboo floors, and my leg got a bit out of whack. I yelped and panicked. I then rubbed my knee for the next hour or so. Why all the worry? It's marathon week, and I'm a big ball of fuss.

Of course, today my leg is fine. It does highlight my feelings during marathon week. I worry. Unlike the weeks of my largest long runs where I finished my runs, took a shower, ate something and then went to work within an hour, I become a porcelain doll in my mind this week. This week, I am overly careful. Yes, this weekend is a culmination of four months or so of preparation, but all my fears of last minute injury and my fear of not being able to finish rise to the surface. Running and non-running injuries take people out during training regularly. I get that. As we come down to the wire, I'm waiting for the shoe to drop, or the leg to sprain, or something.

I am not a stranger to anxiety. I wish I was, but alas, I have big and little panic attacks. I am thankful for the friends I can call or text when anxiety hits who listen to me, encourage me and don't judge me (or at least don't tell me about it). I've had big attacks too that normally come at night, and I am thankful for a husband that is willing to listen to me, pray for me and hold me in the middle of the night. The big ones aren't frequent, but they do really really suck.

Last year before the Milwaukee Marathon, I had trouble sleeping. That's not unusual for runners. I woke my husband up panicked and scared about the race, being able to finish, blah, blah, blah. He answered, "Then don't keep signing up for them." He's so perfect for me. I laughed and went right to sleep. That race is my PR.

I'm also worried about what to wear. The weather has changed, and it's going to be cold. I'm not sure how many layers, which hat, which gloves, or which pants. Really, it's stuff I wouldn't be so concerned about it was a regular weekend long run, but since it's race day it's worth fussing about.

Like many runners, I am a creature of habit. I know what we will be eating the day before the race - Thai peanut chicken curry with rice and broccoli. Non dairy, gluten free. I know what I'll be eating for breakfast - Market Pantry fudge graham protein bars. The knock-off zone bar is better than the Zone Bar. Honest. It gets a bit superstitious. I understand the importance of sticking to what works, but I also know I've run on nachos for my practice runs. The nachos may have given me an extra boost.

Anyway, there are 5 days to race day. I hope not to get injured in that time, but if it happens it's out of my control. I'm #591 if you want to track me. I'm blaming my anxiety on the taper weeks. With all this extra energy, I'm spending it on fussing. I'm glad I have a big race coming up to burn it all off.

I'll look a lot like this this weekend - cart not included.

** My feet are flat like skillets. Birks keep the PF away. I really only wear Birks and running shoes. I even got married in white Birks. Comfort before fashion.

It's about time.

I didn't think it was going to be, but it is. Back when I signed up for the Naperville Marathon (Yes, I registered before it sold out in eight hours) I had thought it would fit better into the family schedule, and since I was only doing one marathon this year I thought I'd PR. In November soccer season ends, cross country wraps up, and the schedule relaxes a bit. At least it did last year. Unfortunately, this year is not last year.

I was grumping a few weeks ago about my training. I was so frustrated. It was about time. Prioritizing time. Instead of having the ideal training season, running time was getting squished out of the schedule. In voicing my frustration to friend Kate, she reminded me about the joy of the race. Last year I had a Spring merrython coming off an injury, and it was fun. My Fall marathon went well, but the course was tough. I knew pretty early on in the course that there would be no PR. I was glad to get under 5 hours. It was beautiful though.

That's the type of marathoner I am. Under 5 and stay alive. My PR is three minutes under 5 hours. I was hoping this year to be stronger and maybe a little faster. I'd love to finish a marathon like I finish a half marathon. Feeling okay and confident. I'm realistic too. I'm not trying to knock an hour off my time. It would be nice to finish with a 4:45.

So a few weeks ago as my training was supposed to be peaking, my weekly mileage was lower than I wanted. My legs ached and so did my heart. I don't know if Kate meant to, but she pushed me to take stock. I now work four evenings a week and one afternoon. I am drained by the end of the day. Morning runs have gotten harder, and some weeks did not exist. I replaced one short run this training session with a cardio weight workout, which I notice when I run. I've run harder on my midweek runs. I've put in all my long runs at a comfortable pace. After taking stock, it's been about using the time I have not about the race time. Time. And changing my perspective on it.

It's taper time. A 14 this weekend, 10 next weekend and a couple short midweek runs until the 26.2. I am looking forward to the race. I plan to enjoy it. I love race day. I'll trust my training, and I'm pretty sure I'll finish, whatever the finish time. My attitude is much better. It's about time.

This will be my attitude (even if there's snow...maybe)

A Moment for Mother's Day

I love being a mom. I am thankful for my girlios. My own mother passed when I was young, around the age of my eldest daughter. My father remarried when I was in college. I have come to love my step mom and appreciate her very much. She's been great for my dad and is a fabulous grandmother to my girlios. It's been foreign to me because I didn't have a mom or mother figure from 10 to 20. With this in mind I am nervous yet optimistic about venturing into these years with my own girls. The mother-daughter relationship is the stuff bestsellers are made of. With three girlios, I expect at least three volumes.

Nemo and Dori photo bombed us!

As a youth, I never remembered Mother's Day. For a while, I would do something for my dad, but it didn't stick. Now, as a mom, we don't really celebrate Mother's Day well. It's at a terrible time of year for us. My husband has coached track for the past seven or eight years and May is track crunch time. He's zombie tired around this time. I've been taking classes and it's finals time.  Looking back on the last nine Mother's Days, I've been sick and called in for antibiotics. I've worked. I still cook and clean. My girlios selectively listen. This weekend even my dog is sick. My husband and I joke that he takes a nap on Mother's Day, and I take the nap on Father's Day. We generally don't do gifts for either day. This Mother's Day I'll set up coffee at church and study for my finals. Something normally happens during the weekend that disrupts 'ideal' plans, whatever that is. I don't expect anything except some sort of curveball.

This is not a gripefest. It's a commentary on a mom's life. I have had several mom friends comment that vacation is doing the same things as every other day in another place. It makes me laugh and cry because I identify. But, that's the joy of being a mom. One of the things I loved about teaching was that no day was the same. It's the same thing in the motherhood. And the hours are much much longer.

So what's my point. When my husband and I got married, I wanted to stand at the end of the aisle and take in the moment before things moved so fast and were over. A minute or two to look at my husband, look around and absorb it. Very Ferris Bueller of me. Unfortunately, the musicians couldn't follow the program, and I didn't have that moment. Don't get me started. It upsets me more than finding out one of the cameras didn't work during our wedding photo shoots. I digress.

I wish all the moms an absorbing moment this Mother's Day. A chance to mentally stop time, cherish your children at the age they are, relax in the chaos and be loved on a little. Good job moms. Kids of all ages, clear some space for your mom, mentally, physically and emotionally. She's amazing.

Happy Mother's Day!

The Week (or so) in My Open Toed Shoes

Last week was so emotional. It's hard to believe that the Boston bombings were just 10 days ago. And within that 10 days, a plant blew up in Texas leveling a town.  Our area hit an all time record for rain fall in April. April's not over yet. Roads, homes and schools flooded. It snowed, hailed and graupeled. A family friend died, and we mourned his passing. The days were dark, cold and overcast. The sun came out once, maybe. And it rained some more.


Seamus the Weather Dog

Dailymile sent me my weekly review yesterday and instead of the usual "Awesome, Gnarly or Terrific", it didn't really comment on my four mile week total. Hmm.

I've become an old woman, or my dog and I really are becoming more alike. One of my dogs, Seamus, will sense a front coming in about four to six hours before. If there's a thunderstorm, he shakes like a leaf. Weather systems now give me headaches. I feel them coming. Not acute pain, just dull constant annoyance. I long for them to pass or it to rain to relieve the pressure. I had a headache all week.




Birkies and a Dora BandAid

I also had a toe ache. After my 20 miles in two days, my toe began to throb. I'm fairly familiar with black toenails. I've gone a full year with all my toenails. That's very exciting. I own purple nail polish so I can match the black toenail accordingly. I expected the pain to subside. Sleeping the first night after acquiring a black toe nail is very uncomfortable. Expected. When I ran with Kate on Tuesday, the pain increased. And the pressure didn't subside. Running was out for the week. Granted, I didn't want to run in the blah weather, but I also didn't want to put on a shoe. Ouch.


By Saturday, it was time to do something about it. I won't go into details, but my husband took care of it. I was a little squeamish. The relief from the pressure was fantastic. It's healing up pretty well. I'm eager to run again. And I am eager for warmer weather.

It's also been a time to take stock and be thankful. Hug my girlios. Cherish my husband. Celebrate what I've been given. Attempt to relax. Enjoy this moment before trying to plan the next. Smile at the little things. When I saw the sprinklers on in the rain yesterday, I truly cackled. Ugly laugh slipped right out.

Me, My Girlios, Dad, StepMom & Friend Post Fun Run

On Monday, my family did a Boston Solidarity Run at the Runner's Edge. I couldn't do the one with the running club because of my Shrek toe. It was so nice to run in the sun. My girlios ran too. They were all rock stars. And my six year old is a machine. She ran almost the whole thing, and I don't think she sweat. She's been asking me to run fun runs. This summer, we'll take on a 5k together.

Monday was also the warmest sunniest day in a while. My girlios spent a lot of the day outside, making up for the last week. Another front and headache came through yesterday, but the forecast looks good. A lot of sun, warmth, healing, growth and all those things this Spring brings. I'm glad. We could use it.

A Runner's High and Heartache

 This is not the post I expected to write today. Today was my last day teaching a 5k class at the homeschool group. My students completed a 5k today. I had one sick and one injured student, but the other 14 ran/walked/finished a 5k within the class period. For some of them it was their first 5k. For others, it was just a chance to stretch their legs. My top runner came in under 23 minutes and runs barefoot. My second runner took several minutes off his PR. Everybody finished. It was an exciting day for me. I don't feel qualified to teach a running course. I run for my own joy, and that's what I wanted to share with my students.

The weather was great. 60s and windy. I made cookies.
I brought bananas. My running club, GRC, donated bags and stickers. I ordered medals, which I love, and I medaled the students when they crossed the finish line. I hooted and hollered when they finished. I tried to simulate that race feel. The joy of a race. That feeling of accomplishment. The love of running.

An hour later, one of the other moms told me about Boston. I felt like I got hit in the gut. I couldn't believe it. My heart hurt more and more. I could tell I was spiraling down when I heard there were fatalities. When we pulled in the driveway, one of my favorite running songs came on the radio - Switchfoot's "Dare You to Move." I completely lost it. Tears and gasps. Why would anybody target a marathon? Why would somebody try to destroy something I love so much? The Boston Marathon is something I know I will never run, but I respect it dearly and the event staff and the runners and the spectators who support the runners and the city.

I've been soaking in the media information intermittently today. It's overwhelming. Horrible. My heart truly breaks. I can tell that I'm moving through different stages of grief too. I feel helpless. I've been praying. I'm terribly angry. Right now, I want to make shirts that say, "I am a runner, and I'm pissed off." Don't mess with my love of running. I'll keep praying. Try to find some way I can help. Pray some more. And grieve. And run. And run.

What's Up with My Cup?

Which cup to chose? THE BIGGEST!

We have a nice spread of cups our house. I'm a tea drinker, and my husband is a coffee drinker. We both need a little jolt of caffeine to start the day. I've noticed that I choose the biggest cup I can in the morning, like a small bucket. I continue to chose the biggest cup among my mugs until THE biggest cup is clean again. Sometimes I will wash the biggest cup to be able to use it THAT day anyway. On weekends there is some bartering for cups between my husband and myself.

We have our favorites. The tall striped cup is my current favorite. It has nice cover and insulated band to go with it. The stouter striped cup was my husband's, (I mean is) but when the cat's away the mice will play. I think it holds the greatest volume and some mornings it's necessary. I love the plaid ones, but I only use them occasionally. The Starry Night cup is a girlio favorite for cocoa and tea. Yes, I'm raising them as little tea drinkers. They already have favorite flavors and favorite cups.

Are you cups normal sized? Or are they supersized like mine?

Embracing My Weakness

It's been all quiet on the Midwestern blog lately. School's back in session for me, and after slacking off a bit, I've finally buckled down. My week in review became a fortnight and then some. Tomorrow I run my first half marathon of the season. Our church's women's retreat is next weekend, which I coordinate, so I've got a big weekend/week ahead of me. Life's gotten busy again. Yesterday, though, we had a snow day.

Big snow. Little dogs.

This past week I learned a bit about myself I thought I'd share. I'm taking two math classes this semester, linear algebra and calculus. One class had been getting a higher billing than the other since the start. Calculus. It just flows with my brain. (Nerdiness previously established) Linear algebra was getting the back seat. In my search for why I realized that I prefer to do math with letters rather than numbers. I'm a terrible number cruncher. When I took trigonometry a few years ago, I had two errors going into the final. One was a copying error, and one was an addition number. Data entry has always been slow going for me. This week I noticed I was favoring my strengths.

When my daughter practices piano I tell her often (borderline nag) to practice the measures she doesn't know as well so that those sections can catch up to the measures she know well. I remind her that if she plays the whole thing over and over again without practicing the weak parts independently the piece will remain unbalanced. Strong parts will become stronger, and the weak parts won't catch up.

This week I took my own advice. I hunkered down and did some number crunching. Lots and lots of number crunching. I'm not much faster, or better at data entry, but I'm more comfortable and confident with the material. Much more balanced.

I am also trying to do this with my fitness. I love running. Love. Love. Love running. However, I can't do more than three real push ups. I'm unbalanced. When I look at my mileage for January, it's lower than I'd like, but it doesn't show my cross training. Yoga, weights, swimming and even resting. And now shoveling and snow shoeing. There have been several days this year that lifting my arms was a bit rough.Striving for balance. Embracing my weakness.

Snowshoeing with the girlios

Goodwill Jeans

I'm a thrift store diva. My favorite skirt from when I was a kid was purchased at a thrift store with my mom. It was ankle length, pink and white with flowers and lace. There was a little rip in the lace, and Mom fixed it. I've been a thrift store lover ever since. And it's a sweet memory of my mom as well.

They opened a Goodwill down the street from me. Sometimes the car just veers there. I get some incredible buys there like name brand running clothes, books and small appliances. Here's me in my new-to-me Levis. I also got a Moving Comfort running jacket. Both were 5$ a piece.

I'd rather giggle than model.

There are a few reasons I prefer to buy jeans from the thrift store. One, I'm a tree hugger. Keeping another item out of a landfill is important to me. If the clothes have more life left in them, let them be used rather than dumped. Recycle it. Pass it on.

Jeans at the thrift store are already broken in. They don't need to be stretched or softened. It's already done.

As a woman, the thrift store, especially the Goodwill, reminds me that people come in all shapes and sized. I equate pant shopping to painful dental work. Like many women, I am not often pleased with my shape. When I go to a store and there are one or two styles, I'm easily discouraged. I feel fat, my butt's too big or my thighs are too wide. Crappy self-talk. At the Goodwill there are racks and racks of 8s and 10s. That's where I reside. I have to look at both sizes because the jeans are all sized differently. Some 10s I can barely get my leg in, and some 8s are way too big. Thrift store jean shopping is fabulous on my self-esteem. Women come in all shapes and sizes, and you can see all the possiblilities there in one place, at the thrift store. It makes pants shopping a lot easier.

And it's cheap. Enough said.



I've made a few changes to my blog cover. Thought I'd change it up. Let me know what you think. Follow me here or on my new facebook page.

This is a test...This is only a test...

I'm between tests. I just finished a differential equation exam that really tested me. I can't tell how it went. In a day I'll be taking my math exam to be endorsed as a math teacher in Illinois. Honestly, I was more anxious about the dif eq exam than for the next one, but I still have anxiety.

Anxiety. It's stressful. I don't like what it does to me. I've had a bad relationship with anxiety for a long time. Clinically and thankfully, it isn't disabling. However, it augments my IBS and aggravates my TMJ. It makes me grumpy and impatient.

I know it's a waste of my time and energy. As I meditate on nobler things and verses, I think I can get it out of my mind, but I can't seem to get it out of my body. It gets hold of my temper and my intestinal system. Sometimes, it breaks up my sleep.

Jerk.

Anxiety, let's break up. It's not me; it's you.

I know. You'll be back.

Courage: Moving from Discouraged to Encouraged

So I haven't been blogging lately. I don't feel like I have time. I've fallen into fall and am still waiting to hit bottom. Every week since school started something new has been added on to the schedule. Piano, soccer, homeschool group, college class, work. One huge balancing act. It's the tyranny of the urgent until we get the rhythm down of the fall schedule.

And I have to say I am feeling discouraged. Even now as I am surrounded by a messy house and the girlios are just one phrase away from another fight (or weeping), I feel guilty about sitting down to type. The to-do's call, plead and scream. I've spent most of the day mulling over homework problems for class tonight, and two of them still elude me.

I have a lot to be encouraged about. This weekend during my 20 miler (I only had to do 18) I passed the 600 mile mark for the year. My pace was awesome for me. I am pretty sure the Garmin lies (in my favor). My girlios are healthy and doing well in homeschool. My husband and I still love to cuddle and talk late into the night. We just got a new bed and after a few nights of adjustment, I sleep solid. The weather is cooler. The praise list could go on and on.

I find it amazing, the power of one thing, to undermine my confidence. I am taking another math class this semester. It's a doozy. It's uncomfortable. The material (differential equations) and the classroom environment are uncomfortable. Why can't it be as easy as calculus? Why isn't there another gal in class? Why do I have to be the oldest? Why does it seem to be so cryptic? Why do the problems take so long? It's exhausting. And it's discouraging. You may be saying, as I also say to myself, that the other people in class shouldn't matter. Unfortunately, environment matters. Blocking it out is tiring. For many years, I would have told you that there were no differences between girls and boys. Then I had girls.

Anyway, I've been processing my discouragement. Yesterday, I taught my first day of 5k running and fitness class at our homeschool group. We are doing the couch to 5k plan, and yesterday was day one. I have 17 kids in class. Some are already runners, and some have never run before. My pace puts me near the back of the pack. I am okay with that, but it has to be discouraging for some of the newbies. I am so proud of all of them. So excited! They did awesome, but they may not be feeling awesome. I can think of a few people that may be very discouraged with how it went. I want them to stick with it, see improvement and be encouraged with themselves. I want them to make the move from discouragement to encouragement. Have courage. Do their best and forget the rest. Advice I should take to heart.

Being a teacher and a student at the same time has many privileges. I learn about both sides of the relationship. In November, I will be taking the state certification test for math and if I pass it and this class, I'll be submitting my 24+ hours of math to add a math endorsement on my teaching certificate. Although I am struggling in this class, I am trying to be the student I would want my students to be - asking questions of the teacher, making connections in class and seeking out other sources for a better understanding. I remind myself that it is good for me to empathize with future students that I will have and even current ones. This feeling I have, discouragement, is not foreign to many people regarding math. I really do want to be part of the solution.

So if there is anything in your life right now, like me, that is causing you discouragement, may I encourage you, as I am trying to encourage myself.

Have courage. Be strong and courageous.

On that note I have to go; I have two more problems to wrestle with.