A few weeks ago Jaime told me she was in search of a swimming boot camp for the Bigs. She did some great research and decided on Stony Creek Swim Center. And of course I followed suit and signed Izzy up for the Puffer Fish class, where they promised our children would be able to swim 2-3 feet underwater and front and back floats. Just what Iz needed, as we spend nearly every day at the pool in the summer.
The first class Izzy was a bit timid; she didn't know how to blow bubbles out her nose (heck, she can't even blow her nose!) and was hesitant about putting her face in the water.
Floating and jumping were easy peasy for her, though.
By day 2 she was putting her face in the water while swimming. And by day 3 she was diving for rings. I was floored. Her confidence built quickly and her desire to try out her new skills grew each day.
The last day of her lessons she showed off all of her new skills...
Swimming with her face submerged
Diving for rings
Izzy girl is on her way to becoming a great swimmer one day. In the meantime, we'll keep practicing all her new skills. And as Izzy say (so does Nemo) "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!"
Pretty happy right now. This was our first weekend without a single plan on the calendar. No packing. No moving. No gymnastics. No long run. No yard work. Not a care in the world (well, except for the fact I can't find anything in the apartment). Was the perfect weekend to focus on family and celebrate our very own Daddy Mike. He doesn't make many appearances on this blog, but he certainly deserves a special post today.
Mike is an amazing father. A great mix of compassion, sensitivity, silly and sweet with the girls. Love that we do (most) everything together as a family. Love that he loves all three of us girls so much. I remember when we found out we were having a girl...we were on a long walk (waddle?) and Mike said, "What am I going to do with a girl? I don't know how to have tea parties." Well I'm pretty sure he's overcome that fear...it's a good thing, because it melts my heart to see him with the girls.
We spent hours at the apartment pool yesterday doing this:
The girls love watching him swim laps and flip turn himself back and forth, back and forth. As soon as he stops they yell, "Do it again, Daddy!" He swims so smoothly, almost elegantly. I must admit, I also enjoy watching him swim. His Division 1 swimming career was pre-Kelly and is somewhat mysterious to me. I wasn't a part of that chapter of his life and wish I had been able to see him compete. Hence, I am entranced when he swims. The girls and I just sit on the side giggling. We all love it.
Had dinner at our old neighbors' house (they are gracious enough to continually invite us over to get us out of the apartment) on Saturday night. Sunday morning the girls and I made Mike breakfast in bed and showered him with smooches and gifts. We took a long walk this morning through our new neighborhood, explored the newly dry-walled house and had a nice lunch. Mike has spent the remainder of the day watching the U.S. Open. All day. In fact, all weekend. It's his weekend so I have had to zip my lips. He does so much for us that it's the least I can do.
Daddy Mike on his self-designed new deck
Happy Father's Day to my Mikey and my own Dad. Love you guys to the moon and back.
You may remember a little relay I ran last year called Ragnar. Well, crazy as it sounds, I ran it again. This time with my running group, some new friends and some very long-lost friends.
Ragnar is a 200 mile relay with 12 people in 2 vans spanning 36 hours. It's logistical mayhem, but it's what I love most: planning and running. Our team surprisingly dubbed ourselves as the Perfect Strangers and by the end of the weekend we all knew more about each other than we did on Thursday afternoon.
Van pick-up a la Bri and Jaime in the Circle City:
We loaded up our vans and headed north to Chicago to pick up some of my friends.
We had dance parties (well maybe that was just me) and shared our excitement and nerves about the race. I practiced the lyrics to a song that we talked about creating a choreographed routine. We shared new dance moves. You know, typical car trip shenanigans.
We stopped in a Chicago suburb to pick up a friend from my high school cheerleading squad (Megan!!!). Can't believe it had been 18 years since I had seen her last. But she's just as I remember her: hysterical. We then stopped in Rockford to pick up a friend from my junior high cheer team (Donna!!!). I hadn't seen her since 8th or 9th grade and she, too, was exactly how I remembered her: chatterbox. Facebook brought me back in touch with these ladies and I'm so happy they took the leap of faith to join all these strangers for a weekend trip.
Straight to Paisan's for beers and pizza. Beautiful Lake Menona in the background.
We woke up early to capture a team photo: yellow was van #1 and purple was van #2. Tall socks were optional :)
Van #1 headed to the start line to run through the safety meeting and packet pick-up. We were able to watch the 7:15 group start and share in the excitement all the other teams had while runners took off on their 200 mile journey.
Bri started us off, tearing up as she stood in the starting corral. We're an emotional group of women and we were so happy to be together doing this crazy relay.
As soon as Bri took off, we rounded up back into the van to go to exchange #1 where she handed the slap-stick bracelet to moi. I only had 4.5 miles and it was just 8am-ish. No biggie. Until I turned directly into the sun. And had to climb hill after hill after hill. Hot. Hills. Not my fave. Plus, I was in van #1 last year and had remembered all of the exchanges...so as I passed last year's exchange #2 (just 2 miles into my run) I realized that Ragnar had changed a few legs along the course and mine was one of them. Tease. I had 2.5 more miles to go. Can't remember much other than climbing hills and seeing spots. But I made it. Handed it off to Meghan. Who handed it off to Karen. As Karen was running her leg, the rest of our van did this:
That's right, our first dance party at an exchange. We opened up the van doors, blared the music and started dancing. Our laughter is what I remember most. Think everyone at the exchange either saw us, heard us, recorded us, or joined us. It was epic. We had energy to burn and moves to bust out. After several songs we decided it was time to get to the exchange to meet Karen. Then we saw this (there are no words):
Karen handed off to Meggie. Meggie handed off to Jaime. Jaime was running the longest leg of the race (10.9 miles) so we decided it would be best to "leapfrog" her. This is when we let our runner run a few miles, we drive up a few miles and meet her to give her fuel. Then she runs more and we meet her again. Van support. And boy, did Jaime ever get support. Our tactic was to give her 3 miles on her own until we meet up with her for the first time. We stopped the van in some shade (near a cow pasture) and once again had ourselves a dance party. As Jaime approached, she joined in for a 2 minute dance party as well. Vans next to us were recording us. Runners that passed us gave us fist pumps. It was epic. Karen then joined Jaime for a few miles. Leapfrog & dance party. Meghan joined Jaime for a few miles. Leapfrog & dance party. I joined Jaime for a mile and let her finish her last on her own. And cue major exchange where we hand off to van #2. Phew. Rest time.
We ate lunch. We tidied the van. We took baby wipe showers and discovered the awesomeness that spray baby powder possesses. We visited Target for more water and snacks. Then we drove to the next major exchange where we'd wait for hours until van #2 was complete with their 6 legs. This is where the fun got out of control. Almost immediately we decided it was time to start choreography on our dance routine to Call Me Maybe. Hours of grueling practice in the heat. Onlookers watching, clapping, video taping. It was time. We recruited, first, a stranger for a trial run through on the camera, then Jaime's brother Robb to film the final show (he's much more professional than that stranger). For your viewing pleasure, I introduce to you the PS's rendition of CMM:
As of today, we've had almost 1,200 hits. Love everything about that!
After our dancing was complete, we spent some quality time in the van cooling off. Played games. Sang songs. Had hair competitions (who was the better Mufasa?). Just overall fun girl time.
Before we knew it van #2 was on their way into the exchange (after a very long and grueling afternoon of running some very long miles in the heat). Was amazing to see our "other half" and grab hugs and some quick stories. We were immediately sobered to hear that Rachel's mom had an emergency back home. There were worried glances. Tearful hugs. But Rachel's attitude was incredible. She's such a positive person. It helped that we had 3 nurses on our team, all of whom offered incredible insight and support to Rachel. Swear, our team caught Rachel's attitude and carried on. It was time to do some night running:
This year we wizened up and packed a bike to accompany the night runners. It can be VERY scary and intimidating running on pitch black trails mostly alone. The bike came in handy for more than just the night rides, though. More on that later. All of us made it through our night runs without a hitch. We handed off to the other van and took off for the next major exchange, some food and some rest. This part becomes very hazy, but I do know that while a few of us slept in the van the other half dined at Denny's and have some pretty funny stories to boot. The girls finished their pancake balls and drove us to the next exchange where we slept somewhere in the ballpark of 2-3 hours.
All of us woke on Saturday morning. with major tummy issues. And an early morning phone call from Rachel told us that her van was struggling, too. Vomitting. Tummy issues. Not sure who would be able to make it to the next run. Worry set in. But our van made the conscious decision to rally. No matter who dropped out or who was sick we were going to finish this race. We did the math of how many miles all of us would have to run if we had to pick up extra legs. We are the Perfect Strangers...this is what we do...we finish. We figure out a plan to accomplish our goals. As a team. Our minds were set: we were going to kick today's ass.
Exactly at that moment, we received the best picture ever from our biggest cheerleader. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention a fellow Perfect Stranger's support while she couldn't be with us. Christi sent us pictures, posters, messages ALL day long. She was our biggest cheerleader from afar. Christi and Amy had their 10 year college reunion but they'll be with us next year :) Anyway, upon opening Christi's motivational message we all shed some tears. It was exactly what we needed at exactly the right time. Goodness I love her.
Finally it was daylight and we were ready for (what we believed to be) our final legs of the race. A change of clothes, some Skittles and another port-a-potty break did the trick. Time to run. I have to mention that after Meggie posted our dance on YouTube we started getting recognized. I kid you not. We'd be at an exchange and hear, "Hey, are you the Perfect Strangers?" or "Um, are you the Call Me Maybe dancers?" Yep. That's us. We're kind of a big deal. Was so fun and gave us a laugh knowing the video had gone viral (within the race, not the country) so quickly.
Bri handing off to me...
My final leg was about 6 miles along Lake Michigan. I ran through Carthage College and along the shore. It was beautiful and inspired me to keep going. Today was going to be a good day.
Me handing off to Meghan.
Crossing off my final leg of the race.
Here we are leapfrogging Karen on a beautiful gravel trail on the Wisconsin/Illinois border. We cheered on other runners from the race as well as regular, everyday bikers, walkers and runners. Who doesn't need an extra pick-me-up while working out?
There aren't many pictures (if any) after our van passed off to van #2. Sandi headed off on her last leg of the day while Rachel decided she was going to leave to be home with her mother, and the other gals described their nerves about running in the day's heat again. Told us how hard yesterday was and they were afraid of what today held. Here we go. We immediately put together a game plan for the rest of the day. We were going to get through these miles no matter what the cost.
Sandi completed her leg and handed off to Steph. Steph ran half of her leg where I met her to finish her leg. Holy heat. I had to call in for back-up. Jaime came and rescued me. I hadn't eaten enough that morning to get me through two runs. Hadn't anticipated more miles. Jaime brought me fuel. I crossed the line to hand off to Meggie/Meghan who traded miles running and biking for that leg. I grabbed ice by the handful to shove into my sports bra and my mouth. Heaven. Next M&M handed off to Jess who had Steph to ride next to her. I'm telling you, this bike came in handy at the most crucial time. The heat was so bad that no one could run many miles without stopping to walk or to ride the bike and trade some miles. Jess handed off to Megan while Steph rode more miles. (During this time Meghan, Meggie and myself attempted to shower in Lake Michigan only to have the whistle blown on us. Apparently that's not ok. Meggie hunted down a hose at the lifeguard station where she proceeded to shower. This is where I exited the scene and opted to be stinky for a full 48 hours.) Megan ran all of her miles and handed off to Jaime to take a few of the last leg's miles with Donna on the bike. I leapfrogged her, hopped on the bike and Donna ran the final 5 miles. It was special to me that I was able to ride alongside Donna; we were able to catch up and spend time together after 22 years apart. Those final miles were through the city and then along Lake Michigan in Chicago.
After almost getting lost and witnessing hundreds of thousands of people at the beach we saw it...the massive orange arches of the finish. Donna was getting emotional, as her husband and two children were waiting for her at the finish. We found our team, dropped the bike, and all 11 of us ran onto the beach and into the finish together. We made it. It took a lot of heart (and baby wipes) for us to get there...but we did it.
After gaining our medals (aka bottle openers on a ribbon) we snapped a few pics and started the walk back to the vans. We were exhausted and just wanted to go home. The ride to get out of the city was quite memorable to me...we laughed, we cried, we smelled. And we just kept saying how proud of us we were.
The ride home was long. It was dark. We were tired. But ya know how we made it through? Dancing. That's right. Pump up the jam because we had some singing (rapping), dancing and schooling of Meggie on some integral 90's dance tunes to do. You bet your bottom dollar that we made the ride home epic.
Although Ragnar's 200 mile relay is behind us, we still have many miles to run. Many more memories to make. And call me crazy, but I can't wait to do it all again next year with the Perfect Strangers!
So we've had a busy few days. To say the least. Mike and I have been anticipating this day for months and it finally arrived. Moving day. It was more like moving weekend.
Thursday evening the girls took off with their grandparents so Mike and I could embark on one of the busiest weekends in our marriage. Friday morning we loaded up two trucks (thanks for switching cars with me for the day, Jaim) to transport all of our belongings that would be going into our new apartment (summer clothes, kitchen accouterments, toiletries and toys). Speaking of apartments, Mike and I signed our first apartment lease since 2002 (for me) and 2000 (for Mike). It had been a long while since I had owned an actual key and was in search of the perfect key chain. Found one while packing up the girls' toys. Perfection.
Friday evening our neighbors had us over for dinner and drinks. I made that night last far longer than it should have, as I didn't want to return to our house for the last time. To face the fact that it would be our last night in our house. The last time we would walk home from their house in the dark of night after a fun evening. Oh, how I dreaded turning out the light on Friday. Mike held me while I cried and cried. Was a tough night.
We woke early Saturday and started last minute packing (me) and taking apart beds (Mike). The movers arrived and were thrilled with how "organized" we were for them. The fact that we had everything unhooked (appliances and electronics) and packed (some things even shrink wrapped!) made their day. Made my day that someone appreciated the weeks of planning we had put into making this move go smoothly.
Mike and I helped move boxes outside and started a Goodwill pile in our driveway. I'm sure all our neighbors were tickled to see that the Clampets were moving out. However, as soon as I posted on FB that we had a growing donation pile, we had 4 separate friends swing by to collect some free stuff (and some even brought us more boxes...thanks Courtney!). Even after all the collections, I still made 3 separate trips to GW. Feels good to purge. Mike still thinks I'm a hoarder because I have every picture I've ever taken since 1991 and my high school letter jacket. That baby might come in handy for Halloween someday!
Katie drove by on her way to the gym (which I will miss...she'd stop by every time she saw us outside to say hi) and immediately got out to ask how things were going. Within seconds I was choked up and crying. Then hugging and sobbing. Katie is the friend that always says the right thing. Clutch. After our long embrace she looked at me and said, "You need to go visit your new house today. Spend time there. Take pictures. Then go out and buy a piece of furniture you've been eyeing. An expensive piece." Goodness I love her. And I didn't want her to leave, as again, that would mean I'd have to go back to reality. But alas, she left and we were back to business.
I was quickly feeling useless so I unloaded the refrigerator and freezer into coolers and took off for the apartment. Couldn't believe the apartment was the lesser of two evils, but I needed to breathe. So I did what I do best: organize. I unpacked the fridge, the kitchen, my clothes, the girls' clothes and Mike's clothes (his ties are organized by color!). Soon Mike arrived with the movers and our beds were delivered. So I made beds. Plugged in nightlights and air fresheners. Organized toys and books. I was in my element and it felt good. I was actually getting excited for the girls to come back to the apartment to see their new home. It was starting to feel like home. Gasp!
All while I was organizing the apartment, Mike was unloading the truck into our two garage units, and my step-mom, aunt and sister were sending me pictures of my niece's graduation from high school. With every picture I opened, so did the floodgates. I was missing my family something fierce. Thankfully my sister knows me so well that with every serious picture she'd sent, she'd follow them up with the a goofy one. Love her. And missed them. So much.
Once the movers were done Mike and I showered up and welcomed our very first guests: the Millers. Earlier in the day Amy had asked how the moving was going. Then asked if we needed some beers delivered later. Yes, please. She warned me that they were on their way to an 80's theme party. So I had to warn her that we were living like we were in a fraternity (read: mattresses on the floor and basement furniture in full effect - minimalists for 10 weeks, yo). Best hour of the day.
Sloane Peterson and Cameron circa Ferris Bueller. Love them.
Then Mike showed me this picture that one of the movers handed him. Um, who's that girl?
So after a few beers and a lot of laughs, Mike and I headed over to our new house. And Katie was right; I felt so much better and all was right in the world.
Plus, our new deck was just completed and I could immediately envision nights spent out there with our friends and family in the very near future.
We celebrated with a sushi dinner date night. We were one step closer to the marathon moving weekend coming to an end.
Sunday morning we had a delicious breakfast out (sans kid made it feel like we were on another date, yay!) and quickly headed to the old house for a final roundup. I was ready to take on the day. Until I saw this:
And then this:
Good grief I couldn't breathe. Mike quickly decided he needed to make a trip to Lowe's while I stayed back. And spent the next 30 minutes moving all of our framed art and sobbing uncontrollably. I just let the tears stream down my face. I needed to get it all out. And did I ever. It was almost cathartic. As soon as the art organization ended Mike returned and I was in full-on focus mode: clean this place up so we could see our girls. That was my motivation.
I scrubbed bathrooms and floors. I vacuumed carpet and baseboards. I threw out way too many recyclable items in my haste to get it all over with. Fast forward 3 hours and our girls were running into my exhausted arms. Dude. I could breathe. Izzy, Lane and Laura toured the empty house laughing (thank goodness, as I was afraid they'd be freaked out) and making jokes about where everything had gone. Bob was cleaning the garage with Mike. And I was loading up the car with last minute cleaning supplies, Goodwill bags and wedding albums. The girls took one last swing on their set.
We checked out the cocoon that has been on our garage for months, still no butterfly has emerged. Izzy turned to me and said, "Mommy, I think the new people that live here will really like this cocoon." We took one last look at the backyard and quickly saw a butterfly hovering around some potted flowers. The girls and I got closer. And the butterfly kept flitting around, as if wanting us to come closer. Flirting with us. And then it hit me...the butterfly was a symbol of new life, new beginnings, a fresh start. My chest tightened and my throat got a large lump. It was time.
I wanted one last picture of us in front of the house. One last memory. Mike and I embraced and stared at the house. He made a joke about him dodging the bullet of having to paint the entire house this summer. And I cried. Got into the car and cried all the way to lunch. I had just said goodbye to our house for the last time.
Once the girls got a glimpse of their new (shared) room at the apartment they were bouncing off the walls. Organizing their loveys. Running through all the new rooms. Shaking their booties in their typical "booty shaking" dance routines.
My girls were back. My temporary home was organized. My husband was in heaven ("This is going to be the best summer: no yard work and all the time in the world to spend with all three of my girls."). This was our new life.
We close tomorrow morning, which I'm sure will stir up more emotion. However, we made it through a grueling weekend filled with physical and emotional exhaustion. And you know what? I can finally breathe again.
There have been a lot of "lasts" in our house lately. Here are a few we've had this week:
This is the last Tuesday in our house.
This is the last swing on our playset the girls will have.
This is the last time we can just walk across the street and hang out with our good friends.
This is the last time we'll grill out at our house.
This is the last time I'll drop you off at your house (said by Brenna, my carpoolmate).
This is the last time the girls will sleep in this house.
This is the last time the girls will ever be in this house (as the girls blew us kisses while being whisked away for 3 days by their grandparents).
And let the floodgates open up.
It was a bit difficult to read the girls their last book two nights ago. In the same room they heard their first books read to them by me. Their first was probably Goodnight Moon. And their last was If I Were You (the cutest daddy/daughter book ever - thanks mom!).
I made it through the book.
And decided we needed to get down to business.
Monkey business, that is.
Tonight is the last night Mike and I will sleep in our very first house. But it won't be the last of our family's fun memories together.
