Proud mama

In the morning I bring Ellie to the sitter, we have about 10 minutes of alone time, just the two of us. We blow kisses to the house and talk about all the "red cars" we see on the road. We recently became a two car family (woot woot!) and our "new" used car is red, so now every red car she sees she yells, "nother one red car Mom!"

In the afternoon I pick up Luke first from school and then we get Ellie from the sitter. With him I have about 20-30 minutes of alone time, we pack up his things from his locker, go potty, say goodnight to all of his friends and then drive to the sitter to get Elle. Yesterday as we got in the car he said, "how was your day Mom?" I told him how I was working on some things for the coffee shop and then he got a little sidetracked and told me something about one of his classmates. A few minutes later he said, "Mawmmmm, please will you tell me something about your day and your work?"

Seriously, I love this kid.

Mind-reader?

Has this happened to you? You're giving your kids a bath, playing in the water with them but thinking to yourself about how you need to get to the gym, or why didn't you get up early and run on the treadmill like you swore you would the night before...and then all of a sudden your almost 4 year old looks at you and says, "Mom, we need to build a gym to attach in to the house for you. Right mom? Then you won't have to go to workout class, you can have it in our house. RIGHT HERE FOR YOU." He proceeds to smile from ear to ear with his hands illustrating the "right here" part so proud of himself for thinking this up.

Then I think, wait, was I talking out loud to myself? How does he know what I was thinking? So I ask him and he just smiles and says, "Mom, we need to get you a workout place in our home for you, right mom?"

Is this normal or is my kid clairvoyant?

Jack Stevens

Six years ago today we lost my father-in-law to esophageal cancer. He died on his daughter Kim's second wedding anniversary, almost a month before our wedding and a week before Father's Day. My brother took John out for a drink the night of his death, a rite of passage as a new member of the club if you will.

Jack Stevens was a dapper man, a pillar of Saratoga Springs, a legend. He played a bartender in the movie, My Old Man, which was set in Saratoga Springs in 1979. For seven years his father, "Big Lew", was in long-term care and Jack visited him every day. Every day. According to John, when they went on vacation he would hire a friend to bring him the paper and talk with him for no less than 30 minutes. That is loyalty and compassion. I only knew him for two short years and after my father died I was comforted in knowing that I was about to have a father-in-law to guide us through big decisions and hold our newborn babies.

We shared stories on Facebook tonight and this is what has ensued:

Hannah Stevens Christopher ‎:) Let's share nice/funny memories of Dad. I'll start. I went "the lake way" home tonight (6/12/11) in memory of him. He would always suggest this way and say it was the best, most direct route. He would even remind us which roads to take!!! That part used to crack me up. Like I didn't know the way home:)

Jane Oh Hannah, thanks for sharing that--means so much!

Amy I remember him sitting in the old kitchen at the table and as John and I were leaving I rubbed his bald head! We both were kind of surprised, I don't know what prompted me to do that but I was sooo embarrassed, he just awkwardly smiled at me. Ha!!!

Hannah I loved that old kitchen. Remember his pile of papers used to be so neat and organized?

Hannah I hope John has a nice/funny memory to share.

John I loved his stories. His friends stopped into the Colonial Tavern to have a beer while dad hid in the car. The friends talked to Grandma Blanch and told her that Jack was up at school studying and it was too bad that he couldn't come on the trip to Indiana to to see his school in the basketball finals.

Hannah Hahaha! I never heard that one!!!!! I believe it though;)

John He also had his friends answer the pay phone in his hall way to say, "Jack's in the library studying Mrs Stevens." When he really was on the trip to Indiana.

John I always like his Polo Grounds story with Leo Quinn. Dad was like 11 or 12 and fell asleep during a NY Giants (baseball) game. Dad loved baseball. Leo not so much, but dad fell asleep and missed a game-winning home run. He also always bragged about riding the subway from Rockaway Beach to the Polo Grounds at such a young age. They stayed with Leo's aunt.

Hannah Never heard those either. You really need to think of more and share away:) I always liked the Race Track stories from the summers he worked there.

John How about working at the Gaslight? He said wives would call looking for their husbands and they would ask dad to lie for them. He never would. He would hand them the phone and make them deal with their situation.

John How about driving by the West Side Field. He always said the same thing, "That's where I struck out 16 Greenwich Witches. I really had my curve ball going that day." Then I would ask him, "Did you ever get any hits dad?" And he would s...ay, " I had a double my first game of the season that hit the back fence on one hop, but I only had a few singles the whole rest of the season." He was only slightly disappointed by his hitting but was always really proud of his pitching!!

He would have loved the string of grandchildren that have come along and they would have loved him. RIP Jack, you are missed.

Magic

The night John told me he loved me was only three days after my father had died and two weeks into knowing each other. We were parting ways in the parking lot of my apartment building in Saratoga, he was in his car and I was in mine, as I put the car in drive he swung his car around so that we were facing each other in opposite directions. His car was playing Magic by Ben Folds, and as the words of love and loss hung in the air he said something about not wanting to leave me. Ever. We were crying and laughing at the craziness of what was happening before us and then he said it. Whenever I hear that song it brings me right back to Regent Street in Saratoga Springs.

We went on a hike Saturday and while it was quick it wasn't easy, we were both like, um, what? Really, are we that out of shape? It was steep and rocky but we loved it and the view was unbelievable. There was a little gazebo at the summit and as we gazed at the view I grabbed my iPhone and said, "we should dance up here!"

Magic. It was the first song on the playlist.

You're the magic that holds the sky up from the ground
You're the breath that blows these cool winds 'round

Fish and chips in the park

Luke loves Thomas the Train and coincidentally Thomas and Friends love to eat fish and chips. Thus Luke also craves fish and chips. He's also pretty much BFFs with his walrus who he believes "lives in the cold world and eats fish too!" He asks daily if we can have fish and chips for dinner and at first I thought, um, he will never eat this and then on a whim (with the plan for John to actually be the one to eat it) we ordered it for him and he devoured it.

Tonight we indulged his wish and ordered ourselves up some meals from Adirondack Seafood Co. However, he didn't want to just eat it at home or at the restaurant, he wanted to have a picnic in the park. And so we did.

We found the perfect spot in the grass and as we sat down on our blanket Luke declared, "this is just the best spot for a picnic. I suppose. Right Mom?"

Oh I suppose Luke. It was perfect.

He shared his fish with Ellie who really would rather not venture there, she was happy with her leftover mac-n-cheese and applesauce.

We walked across the bridges and around the pond. We even went to the playground.

It was monumentally epic in the eyes of my Luke.

38 minutes

We were standing amongst 50 or so people, most of them in running gear, athletic and fit, smiling at the sunshine and getting amped up as U2's It's a Beautiful Day pulsed through the air. I knew more than half of the faces, some of them veteran St. Mary's families, and some of them through Luke's pre-school class. I offered to go get our race numbers and get us registered while John stayed with the kids. As I walked down the stairs to the flurry of activity the tears started to well up in my eyes.

I am here. I am about to run a 5K. Me. I have always and forever hated running. Hated it. It is not fun to me. But I want to love it.

My dad used to jog all the time. He called me his "pacer", I'd ride my bike along side him during his jogging route, which coincidentally was pretty much the route of this race. He had bad knees and I don't think jogging was really his thing, but he was in the military and it was part of the deal so he stuck with it.

I brushed off the tears long enough to get our numbers, we registered soon after hearing they were doing a 5K, so our race numbers were 2 and 3. I grabbed our bags and headed back outside to John where I choked up again. He kissed me and said, "just do your best, don't worry if you walk part of it, the idea is that you're here."

And then we were off.

John kept pace with the front group of runners, I was with him for all of 3 minutes before my pace clearly was slower. We ran entirely through my families stomping grounds, past the street I grew up on, along the bike trail that was once a railroad where my neighborhood friends and I would leave pennies for the trains to flatten (kids, do not do this please!). I let the sun shine on my face as my thighs burned and my shins felt as if they were being stabbed by some evil monster. I walked, I ran, I walked, I jogged, I walked. I joked at the water table that this was so much harder than the treadmill.

My mom watched as I ran past our street again, she cheered as I thanked her and told her I was going to die. I walked. I jogged. No one was in front of me and I was afraid to see if or who was behind me. I was 4 streets away when I passed the neighborhood watering hole complete with an outdoor band who cheered me on, "go, go, go, go!" I kept running. Smiling through the fear of wanting to throw up.

I rounded the corner of Church Street and was greeted with clapping and cheering as I saw my family on the sidelines. John was smiling so big and as I passed him I heard him say, "you did it! Yeah!" And then I heard "here's Amy Stevens with a time of..." as ran through the finish line.

Amazing.

Ellie wanted me to hold her immediately as I tried to catch my breath and Luke said, "hey, mama, where you been?" All I could do was laugh and kiss his honest to goodness sweet little face.

The finish line has created an addiction. I can't wait for the next race, the next runners high, the next best time.

And I would like to congratulate my husband for finishing with a time of 26 minutes. Sweet awesomeness.

Mother's Day

So I ran my first 5K and it was incredible but before I get to that I need to backtrack and write about Mother's Day because it's overdue, past-date, and necessary.

My mom is due for her time in the sun here in my little blogosphere, she's lived for a long time in the shadow of my father's death. I admit this is unfair and I feel guilty for not writing this out appropriately and timely, on Mother's Day.

We have lived a bit of a tumultuous relationship, the push and pull of mother/daughter has always been a part of us and my father was the anchor that found the middle-ground (see, I snuck him in here already!). He would tell me, "be nice to your mother" and in turn to her would say, "Hey Mar, let her be" when the two of us would hit a rough patch. Without him it's been a little unsettling in many ways. I still hear him whispering in my ear. In the end though, she is my mom. My mother. She knows immediately when something is wrong, she knows my voice, my tone. She loves my kids as if they actually are her own and they love her back.

I want nothing more than for her to be happy in life. To find her way, her self, her normal. I thank God nearly every day for the total unconditional love that I was raised with. It is in a way an out of body experience when I hear myself talking to my kids as she talked to me, her sayings and mannerisms. I am her in many ways.

The future that I pictured for myself (marriage, kids, full sets of grandparents to visit and love on, the ideal situation) has been likened to an unfinished painting that has been restretched and repainted. The future will never be the past, but the reality is that time is ticking and there isn't enough of it to waste.

I will pick my mom up tomorrow morning at 6:15 and take her with me to strength training class. I won't be all that awake to conversate and such but she knows that and nothing is expected. Thank you mom for loving me through thick and thin, from Pennsylvania to New York and back, through weddings and funerals and the birth of babies. You are loved, you are cherished and your Sponge Bob Squarepants eating grandson thinks you hung the moon.