new strength

Friday, April 19, 2013

Jack and his amazing teacher, Miss D.


With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts. 
-- Eleanor Roosevelt
It's been a hard week.  

I wish for new days, new strength, and new thoughts for us all.

Hope you feel it.

Talk soon,
Heather

runners

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

On Sunday, I ran a ten mile race in Austin.  It is the longest race I've ever run.  It is the first race I've run in quite a while.  

It was significant to me, physically, emotionally, and mentally.  I have trouble making time for myself, as a busy working mom, though I know that I'm a better lawyer, wife, mother, and friend when I am rested, healthy, and well-balanced.  I have trouble thinking of myself as a runner, though I've been one for many years, when I am not actually lacing up and getting out there.

As I crossed the finish line, I felt powerful (and exhausted and sore).  But I had reconfirmed to myself that I am a runner, and I was proud to be "back" in that community.

I made a couple of friends during the race.  These ladies are just about the cutest thing ever.  They told me which Garmin to get and that I'm their children's age.  They said running had changed their lives, and I silently agreed.


Durel and Jack met me at the end of the race.  Jack told me that he wanted to go do a race, too!  I told him that he could come with me next time.  (Because I am not ready to push a jogging stroller ten miles.  No sirree.)



We all know what happened in Boston on Monday.  As I hobbled around my office, sore from the previous day's triumph, I heard the news.  Part of me doesn't want to give it legs by talking about it.  And the rest of me knows that we're all thinking about it, so I might as well share my thoughts as part of our collective healing process.

It's particularly vicious to go after a crowd of people who have united to celebrate such a unique triumph of the human spirit and the human body.  The fact that the Boston Marathon is such an important part of the culture of Boston, of Massachusetts, and is part of their Patriots Day celebration make this act of cowardice and evil even colder.

I'm proud of the good.  I'm proud of Boston.  I am amazed by the runners who crossed the finish line and then kept running to Mass. General to donate blood.  I am more determined than ever to complete, if not a full marathon, then a half. 

I was welcomed back into the running community, as I knew I would be, with open arms.  And I don't give up on my friends.

For another beautifully worded perspective, read this:  http://anothermotherrunner.com/2013/04/15/undonebostonmarathon/

Hope you stay strong today.

Talk soon,
Heather

zombie

Friday, April 12, 2013

Yesterday, I listened to the song "Zombie" by The Cranberries.  I hadn't heard it in forever.  I like that song.

Proof that Jack is not 100% photogenic, all the time.
And proof that blue icing is Not.Normal.

Also, Jack had a cupcake.

Hope you connect some dots today.

Talk soon,
Heather

viva la cookie

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

You know how stereotypical grandmothers like to give their grandchildren cookies and stuff?

Jack's grandmothers are no exception.

In particular, Jack's Grammy (my mom) has found the best bakery in Austin which makes the fanciest and most delectable cookies.

And she frequently brings Jack special goodies from there to enjoy.

Case in point:  an Easter egg cookie so beautiful that I actually Instagrammed it before I gave it to him.

Also?  Who is this big kid?
Also?  We'll talk about his hair shortly.  Stay tuned.

I'm so happy that Jack has his Grammy and Nonna (Durel's mom) to spoil him.  I daresay it's worth the "unspoiling" that Durel and I are left to do once expectations are set far too high for normal life.  

(No, we don't eat cookies for breakfast, Jack.)

Hope someone brings you a seriously kick ass cookie today.

Talk soon,
Heather

quakers

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Jack's Pop (my dad) went to Penn.

To be clear, he went to the University of Pennsylvania, which is an Ivy League university located in Philadelphia.  Without any judgment whatsoever, it is not Penn State.  (How's that, Brynn?)

My dad is also a die-hard college basketball fan.  To Penn's credit, they have the coolest basketball arena in the country.  It's The Palestra, and is the oldest basketball stadium in continuous use in the United States.  It opened in 1927, and is still used by Penn and the rest of the Big Five today.

Image credit.  
I didn't realize it is also referred to as the Cathedral of College Basketball.  Nice.

My dad and I used to go to Philly to see Penn games together.  Afterward, we would go out to dinner, usually somewhere on South Street.  Those evenings are some of my fondest memories.  Quality time spent hanging out with my dad, seeing his pride for his alma mater, and learning about basketball from him.  Good stuff, indeed.

Penn's basketball program is, well, filled with spirit if not with success.  Penn's last trip to the Final Four was in 1979.  

But, as we know, true fans never give up.  And Pop knows that.  And so does the next generation.


Hope you don't give up on anything today.

Talk soon,
Heather

ass kickin' chickens

Thursday, April 4, 2013

I've waxed philosophical in the past that Jack was born a Texan.  He will intrinsically know what happened at the Alamo, what "perfect" nachos are, and the difference between a good and a bad tortilla.  

And while that knowledge is great, I feel obliged to represent the Mid-Atlantic region in his upbringing.

I won't teach him to pronounce water as if it were spelled "wooder."

I will teach him to love DC and Philadelphia.  And to respect Baltimore.  (Charm City, if you come out of your crime tailspin, I will reevaluate.)

I will teach him to parallel park.  That shit is important.

And, I will teach him to respect the likes of the Maryland Terrapin and the Delaware Blue Hen.





See?  I've already started.

Thanks, Uncle James and Aunt Jenny!

Because it is cool to root for, as we say, an ass kickin' chicken.  From the First State.  You know?

Hope your day has some aggressive poultry in it.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, April 19, 2013

new strength

Jack and his amazing teacher, Miss D.


With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts. 
-- Eleanor Roosevelt
It's been a hard week.  

I wish for new days, new strength, and new thoughts for us all.

Hope you feel it.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

runners

On Sunday, I ran a ten mile race in Austin.  It is the longest race I've ever run.  It is the first race I've run in quite a while.  

It was significant to me, physically, emotionally, and mentally.  I have trouble making time for myself, as a busy working mom, though I know that I'm a better lawyer, wife, mother, and friend when I am rested, healthy, and well-balanced.  I have trouble thinking of myself as a runner, though I've been one for many years, when I am not actually lacing up and getting out there.

As I crossed the finish line, I felt powerful (and exhausted and sore).  But I had reconfirmed to myself that I am a runner, and I was proud to be "back" in that community.

I made a couple of friends during the race.  These ladies are just about the cutest thing ever.  They told me which Garmin to get and that I'm their children's age.  They said running had changed their lives, and I silently agreed.


Durel and Jack met me at the end of the race.  Jack told me that he wanted to go do a race, too!  I told him that he could come with me next time.  (Because I am not ready to push a jogging stroller ten miles.  No sirree.)



We all know what happened in Boston on Monday.  As I hobbled around my office, sore from the previous day's triumph, I heard the news.  Part of me doesn't want to give it legs by talking about it.  And the rest of me knows that we're all thinking about it, so I might as well share my thoughts as part of our collective healing process.

It's particularly vicious to go after a crowd of people who have united to celebrate such a unique triumph of the human spirit and the human body.  The fact that the Boston Marathon is such an important part of the culture of Boston, of Massachusetts, and is part of their Patriots Day celebration make this act of cowardice and evil even colder.

I'm proud of the good.  I'm proud of Boston.  I am amazed by the runners who crossed the finish line and then kept running to Mass. General to donate blood.  I am more determined than ever to complete, if not a full marathon, then a half. 

I was welcomed back into the running community, as I knew I would be, with open arms.  And I don't give up on my friends.

For another beautifully worded perspective, read this:  http://anothermotherrunner.com/2013/04/15/undonebostonmarathon/

Hope you stay strong today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, April 12, 2013

zombie

Yesterday, I listened to the song "Zombie" by The Cranberries.  I hadn't heard it in forever.  I like that song.

Proof that Jack is not 100% photogenic, all the time.
And proof that blue icing is Not.Normal.

Also, Jack had a cupcake.

Hope you connect some dots today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

viva la cookie

You know how stereotypical grandmothers like to give their grandchildren cookies and stuff?

Jack's grandmothers are no exception.

In particular, Jack's Grammy (my mom) has found the best bakery in Austin which makes the fanciest and most delectable cookies.

And she frequently brings Jack special goodies from there to enjoy.

Case in point:  an Easter egg cookie so beautiful that I actually Instagrammed it before I gave it to him.

Also?  Who is this big kid?
Also?  We'll talk about his hair shortly.  Stay tuned.

I'm so happy that Jack has his Grammy and Nonna (Durel's mom) to spoil him.  I daresay it's worth the "unspoiling" that Durel and I are left to do once expectations are set far too high for normal life.  

(No, we don't eat cookies for breakfast, Jack.)

Hope someone brings you a seriously kick ass cookie today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

quakers

Jack's Pop (my dad) went to Penn.

To be clear, he went to the University of Pennsylvania, which is an Ivy League university located in Philadelphia.  Without any judgment whatsoever, it is not Penn State.  (How's that, Brynn?)

My dad is also a die-hard college basketball fan.  To Penn's credit, they have the coolest basketball arena in the country.  It's The Palestra, and is the oldest basketball stadium in continuous use in the United States.  It opened in 1927, and is still used by Penn and the rest of the Big Five today.

Image credit.  
I didn't realize it is also referred to as the Cathedral of College Basketball.  Nice.

My dad and I used to go to Philly to see Penn games together.  Afterward, we would go out to dinner, usually somewhere on South Street.  Those evenings are some of my fondest memories.  Quality time spent hanging out with my dad, seeing his pride for his alma mater, and learning about basketball from him.  Good stuff, indeed.

Penn's basketball program is, well, filled with spirit if not with success.  Penn's last trip to the Final Four was in 1979.  

But, as we know, true fans never give up.  And Pop knows that.  And so does the next generation.


Hope you don't give up on anything today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, April 4, 2013

ass kickin' chickens

I've waxed philosophical in the past that Jack was born a Texan.  He will intrinsically know what happened at the Alamo, what "perfect" nachos are, and the difference between a good and a bad tortilla.  

And while that knowledge is great, I feel obliged to represent the Mid-Atlantic region in his upbringing.

I won't teach him to pronounce water as if it were spelled "wooder."

I will teach him to love DC and Philadelphia.  And to respect Baltimore.  (Charm City, if you come out of your crime tailspin, I will reevaluate.)

I will teach him to parallel park.  That shit is important.

And, I will teach him to respect the likes of the Maryland Terrapin and the Delaware Blue Hen.





See?  I've already started.

Thanks, Uncle James and Aunt Jenny!

Because it is cool to root for, as we say, an ass kickin' chicken.  From the First State.  You know?

Hope your day has some aggressive poultry in it.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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