Jack...and introducing, Annie

We'd like to welcome to our family, the stray cat who wouldn't go away, Annie.

But more about her some other time. This is about my good boy Jack. As this blog is sometimes a journal for myself, a few notes on the day featuring my oldest boy, Jack.

A) He took a nap today for the second time this week. Either he's not feeling well or he's about to go through some sort of major growth spurt.

B) He is really pleasant company after a nap.

C) He got in trouble for not listening to me at the park today. I told him not to go near the stream that runs through the park. He and his friends, Alyssa and Isaac did anyway and he ignored me as I screamed for him to get away. (It was high and running quickly.) Because he did not listen, he lost his TV privileges for the afternoon. I am, however, sometimes a sucker and look for ways for him to earn back things he has lost. In the past, I've had him fold the dish towels and I do have a mountain of laundry to fold. And then, after his nap and after I went upstairs to fetch Robbie and change diapers, I came back downstairs to this scene:

It melted my heart and was very much worth "The Little Einsteins."

(Robbie tried to help...)

D) Before he went to bed tonight, he told me, "Mommy, children can say their prayers by themselves." He proceeded to kneel by his bed and say his prayers.

Life can be so sweet.

Cutie pies in ties...

I should be running or sleeping. Instead, I offer this, yet another look at some rather darling children. I have no idea if I'll get Ellie to ever give up her binkie. I had a blankie and I turned out fine, so she can keep that. But after church before lunch, cute though they are, just isn't the best time to take pictures. You'd think I'd have figured this out by now, yet I persist.

Finally, our opinion matters....

Don't hate us because our opinion matters. The fate of your favorite TV shows is now in our hands. No. Stop. Do not try to diminish this moment for us. We've always wanted to feel important, like we really have a say. Elections don't turn out the way we'd like all the time, but this time, WE MATTER!

Do you know how I know? We have a Nielsen TV Ratings diary sitting on the dining room table, all ready to fill out for the week beginning Thurs., March 26. And, as if the honor weren't enough, there are FIVE crisp one dollar bills sitting with it. Five dollars and the chance to influence television...is there anything more amazing to do in life than this? How many shows have I seen cancelled (I heart-ed"Invasion") because the powers-that-be didn't know I was out there, watching, waiting for the next episode? Forget that Bob's name is on the envelope. This week, MY VOICE WILL BE HEARD!

Have a show you need to see saved? We are happily taking bribes to include your show under our "visitors" listing.

Pancakes! I can have pancakes!

Just when I thought I was going to drop 50 pounds simply from not being able to drink milk, Bob's fans come through for me.

As I have previously whined, I have been put on a strict non-dairy diet while doctors try to work out what's causing Robbie's non-pooping issues. It's been a challenge, but I'm two-weeks dairy free. I feel like I should be in an addiction support group or something for the time I spend fantasizing about a glass of milk.

Anyway, Bob recently ran for a position on the Mount Morris Village Board with his friend, Joel Mike. They won. To celebrate, Joel suggested taking "the girls" (ie., wives) to the Maple Tree Inn, an amazing little place that is open for six weeks only around Easter. Their entire menu is buckwheat pancakes and FRESH maple syrup with a few breakfast-y sides. It's incredible.

I'm glad I went once before I got cut off the hard stuff. I had resigned myself to not going again this year because the temptation of pancakes might push me over the edge.

Enter John Loveland, Bob fan and owner of Allens Hill Farms. (They make a variety of organic mixes that can be ordered over the Internet. Their signature item is a natural sweetener, apple cider mollasas.) He sent Bob today this pancake mix that has NO dairy. It's just flour, sugar, baking soda and yeast. The folks at the Maple Tree Inn said I could bring my own mix!

So, now I don't have to cook dinner AND I get to eat pancakes. Life is good. Now, if all this non-dairy would just help the boy....

All Hail Spring!

The first day of Spring in New York brought us a sunny, 45-50 degree day. In other words, we put sweatshirts on and put the park back in Park Day (what a group of friend's and I call our play group...) A tiny park in the middle of nowhere had these baby swings. I feel badly that I didn't get a picture of Jack today, but he was at a dead run with his friends Kiki and Alyssa for two hours. Robbie and Ellie, as you can see, were captive in the swings. Robbie, I swear, was laughing the entire time except when I tried to take his picture.

The snow is gone. The tulips are coming up. I've seen crocuses and at my house, mini daffodils. I think, finally, we can put Winter behind us.

(knock on wood, knock on wood, knock on wood...)

Amanda fnishes 5 miles!!!

**WARNING. UNFLATTERING PHOTOS AHEAD**



As comebacks go, 56:38 isn't the greatest time in the universe.

But it's a finish.

It was within my goal range of finishing my five-mile race within an hour. Even in great shape, I wouldn't have finished better than 48 minutes or so, so 56:38 on a sunny March day in downtown Rochester felt fantastic.


Bob and I left our older two children, Jack and Ellie, with their older sister Hannah, and loaded Robbie up for the 45-minute drive to the city. I was nervous the whole time, kept taking my gloves on and off, asked Bob a million times if he was nervous. We got the city and met our friends, Dan and Holly Lombardo. Dan was running, while pregnant Holly pulled support staff with Robbie and their daughter, Madison. Bob and I excitedly wished each other well, muscled our way to the middle of the pack and then the mob started running.


I was nervous, but I had a plan. I knew I had a pace I could run the entire race at and I stuck with it. I always pick one person out ahead of me that I know is running too fast in the beginning and I tell myself, "I will beat that person." I passed her on mile 2.5, so I had to find another person. At mile four, I regretted deeply not dragging Jack and Ellie. I wanted them to be out in the sunshine and feel as alive as I did at that moment. For some reason, Kelly Clarkson's album "Breakaway" just pumps me up and I scrolled through my shuffle until I found her and pushed myself to run as fast as I could for that last mile. As I approached the finish, I drew on my reserves and started sprinting. I knew my kids wouldn't be there, but I knew Bob would. And he's loud, so I knew I'd be able to hear him cheering.


As I approached the finish, I looked for him. The city was electric with thousands of people gathering for the St. Patrick's Day parade, and their cheering helped me finish strong. Holly took my picture as I crossed the finish. I walked forward through the line. No Bob. Hmmm. I had to go potty so I ran to the bathroom, and on the way out, he found me and apologized profusely. Bob being Bob (he does talk radio and is well known) had been waylaid by a dozen people. Oh well. He missed my big finish, but I think he feels badly enough about it to forgive him this small trespass.



It was a great experience to be back in the running saddle again, to be training for some small thing. I had a goal. I stuck to my plan. I finished the race. I think I'll push on to a half marathon in the late spring early summer, just to give myself a goal to work toward. And if it helps me continue to lose the baby weight I piled on through two, back-to-back, pregnancies, great. :)







Bob and I after the race. I'm trying to be ok posting a picture where I look awful. :)























The folks from church: Dan Lombardo, Steve Montemerano (friend of Dan's), Brett Powell, Bob, me.






I am not a natural runner. I am neither small nor lithe nor do I look like someone who could go out and run a block much less a marathon, but I am. I discovered along my path to becoming a runner that most people could be runners, to0 (really) if they get over the idea that running is hard. I've had a lot of people ask me recently how this came to be my preferred form of exercise. I will try to be brief. (stop laughing.)


In high school (how is that for starting out brief...) I played volleyball, basketball and occasionally, I "ran" track, which means I threw the discus. I rode horses and hiked in the mountains and was the lifeguard. And I gasped for breath through every step. My hometown is at 6,500-feet elevation, but I don't think you could blame my issues on that since I was raised there. For years, people told me I wasn't trying hard enough to get in shape, that I was lazy. Asthma was a theory, but inhalers bought me no relief. I bought into the lazy theories. After all, if I exercised and my lungs still weren't conditioning, I must be lazy, right?


When I went to college and wasn't forced to do more than walk to class, I didn't, not because I didn't want to but because I simply could not breath. There were so many things in college I did not do because I was embarrassed that I wasn't in shape. I loved to play sports and hike, but my gasping for air was embarrassing.


After college, I got tired of not doing the things I wanted, so my former co-worker and roommate Kelli DuFresne and I started running in our Carson City neighborhood. We were pretty horrible, but we tried and I kept with it, struggling my way up to running three miles most days. I gutted it out four to five days a week, never really breathing right, but figuring eventually I would be in shape and would be able to run and breathe at the same time.


In 2003 while living in Washington state, a doctor asked me during a physical if I'd ever had blood work done to get a baseline of basic health stats. I hadn't, and she ordered them up. The results were astounding to me: genetically bad high cholesterol (dad's fault) and I was severely anemic, bad enough to be put on prescription iron pills. I had never felt fatigued and thought the anemia was an oddity that hadn't affected my life much.

But it had.


About a week after I started the pills, I was doing my 3-mile jog when it hit me that I could breathe. For the first time, I was running and not gasping. I did an Internet search later on anemia, as the iron pills were the only thing different in my life, and discovered that a lesser known side effect of anemia was shortness of breath. I sat there stunned. All those years of not doing things, of feeling lazy, of having people think I didn't try was all solved by an iron pill.

Running felt different. I felt so strong. I thought to myself one day, "This feels so good, I bet I could run a marathon." I made the mistake of saying that the next day to a copy editor that I worked with, Frank Purdy, who aside from being an Ultra runner (that's REALLY long distance) was also a high school girls cross country coach. I didn't stand a chance. Frank walked up to me before I left the office that day holding a piece of paper, declaring me lucky. Here was an 18-week schedule and look, it was 18 weeks until the Yakima River Canyon Marathon and I could do it. I took the piece of paper, said OK and the next day, I just started following the schedule. If it said run three miles, I did. Five miles, I did. Seventeen miles, I did. I ran in snow and ice, training through the winter with Frank becoming a relentless voice on the other end of the phone. I'll never forget the message he left me on my 27th birthday, a day it snowed about a foot: "Hi Amanda, it's Frank. Don't think that snow is an excuse not to run. It will cushion your fall and give you a better work out." Frank, in a way, gave me permission to run in any condition and I did! (I've since added wind and heavy rain to the no-run category...)


I also always struggled with shin splints and bad knees. My friend, Geoff McCombs recommend that I get my stride tested and invest in the proper pair of shoes. I went to a fancy running store in Seattle one day, where I did just that and have been in love with Saucony Hurricanes ever since. It made an ENORMOUS difference and if anyone reading this is thinking about taking up running, BUY THE RIGHT SHOE FOR YOU! It is worth every penny. My running shoes are $115 a pair and are ONLY used for running. They are that special. In April 2004, I finished the YRC Marathon in 5 hours, 16 minutes (like I said, I'm not fast). But, I lost 25 pounds while training and felt such vigor and life and learned such discipline from the process.


After I got married, Bob and I started having babies and running beyond the occasional short trail run or 5K just hasn't happened. But this summer, we happened upon an amazing deal just up the street. A lady a block away decided she was going to be serious about weight loss and went and bought all the best equipment to help her commit. It didn't work and her $1,500 space saver model Nordic Track treadmill was just in her way. She sold it to us for $200. I LOVE it. My previous treadmill experiences weren't that great, especially when you consider almost ALL my previous running was done in scenic situations like running along the Truckee River or running along an orchard with Mt. Adams and Mt. Rainer looming in the distance or here in New York along windy dirt trails skirting the edge of the amazing Letchworth gorge. I like running outside. I like the wind on my face, my dog by my side. But, with three little kids and next to no time, that treadmill has been my friend and lifesaver, allowing me to again do the exercise I love.

I was never a natural at this. I still look foolish. I am slow. Right now, I feel a bit like an ox lumbering down the road. I will regain my speed and maybe again be competing in the 9 1/2 minute mile range soon. This year, I will rock the Nunda Fun Days 5K, a race Bob and I have done every year we've been married. If we can get one of the girls to run with us again, we can compete for second place in the family prize category (the Chichesters are unbeatable. We just accept that, and go for second...).


But here's something I've learned: even someone slow and goofy looking is going to reap the same health and happiness benefits that someone speedy in fancy running clothes will.


If I can do it, anyone can. And I'd take healthy and happy any day, wouldn't you?

What's playing in your car?

Every now and then, you find some little gem at the library that just surprises you. Or, in this case, made me want to jump and down, scream, kneel and thank the Lord. I was afraid the other library patrons would think me blasephmous, crazy, or would want the CD for themselves, so I just grabbed the it, hustled to the front with my library card and shooed the kids out the door.



Finally. Finally. A CD mothers and their children (maybe...) can enjoy together. The Barenaked Ladies bring you: Snack Time. The fellows behind such hits as "If I had a Million Dollars" "This Old Apartment" and "Falling for the First Time" bring their unique sound to the kids' level. It is not your average kids fare, which may explain why my children have been more ambivalent about the catchy tunes than I'd prefer. I LOVE it. I will persist in playing it until I hear them singing along to "789." " 7 ate 9! The cat'll have to do with 8 lives now and and the Chinese will be out of luck..."

Until then, I suspect Jack will continue to utter his plea for his audio books. He's an addict. Really. At the moment, this is the level that we're listening to and which he asks for over and over and over and over and over and ... you get the picture.

























He's become a bit of a van CD player tyrant, never understanding why we can't ALWAYS listen to his books. They're good, but I could use a little Barenaked Ladies to even out the mix. However, threatening my reverie is Ellie's find of the day:


We were at Wal-Mart today for a few items and to let Jack spend a gift card given to him for his birthday. There we were in some random "boy" aisle, and Ellie turns up with this. I swore it wouldn't happen to me, but the first time she expressed an interest in the Princesses, I caved and then grandparents contributed and she thinks she IS Sleeping Beauty. Anyway, my first inclination was to say no or just put the CD back. She's 2. Her memory is short. But then I looked at the song list, and while I'd like to say the catchy BNL's "Eraser" came to mind, I found myself humming "So This Is Love." I wanted to think, "Well, Cinderella, look at what love gets you: three kids clinging to you in a Wal-Mart toy aisle." Despite myself I realized that I liked all those silly Disney songs, too. So, I let her get it.

On the way home, I played the CD. Ellie listened passively, because while she likes the Princesses images, she hasn't been fully indoctrinated to the music yet. It occurred to me that as I sang along to "Belle"-- "Behind that fair facade, I'm afraid she's rather odd. Very different from the rest of us. She's nothing like the rest of us. Very different from the rest of us is..." that Ellie was watching me in the rear view mirror with a funny look on her face. I know it's supposed to end "Belle." But I'm fairly certain my kids were thinking "Mom." Oh well.

Happy 4th birthday to Jack!

Collage 1: At a March 6 party for his friends at the Mount Morris Bowling Alley. The kids used wheelchair ramps to help get the balls rolling. Jack is in love with Scooby Doo right now and yes, that is the Mystery Machine on his cake. It only took me an hour. :) The kids had a great time, but we decided their attention spans end after about six frames.

Collage 2: And from the family party on his birthday, March 7. In the photos, Sophie, Hannah and her boyfriend, Mike, Aubrey and her boyfriend, Brandon.

He was the baby I always wanted, the little boy I dreamed about. He came two days late, after 16-hours of labor. He had colic and screamed for pretty much six months. He was a poor sleeper. But, he grew out of all this and turned into just the most amazing kid.

It isn't hyperbole. He honestly amazes me. He can drop kick a soccer ball and write all his letters in order. He is starting to sight read words. He is obsessed with books on CD. He will listen to them for hours. He has a budding sense of humor although he hasn't exactly figured out just how to properly tell a joke. He loves kisses and hugs and cuddles. He has a temper, and thankfully, is learning to control himself. He loves being a big brother. He loves to draw and build and play outside. He loves being with his friends.

Jack is just an angel (with a devilish streak...). I love everything about him, his nose sprinkled with freckles, his prickly brown hair, his skinny legs and knobby knees. I love that he is Mr. Manners about 90% of the time. I love that he thinks of his brothers, sisters and friends always. I love that he is beginning to understand God and have a love for him. I love to hear his prayers and his expanding vocabulary: "This is not what I respected." :) He is so fun. So sweet. He's the baby I dreamed of.

"I go dance class."

In the group picture, starting with Sophie going clockwise: Ellie, Prophet, Alyssa, Keilani,

Kalyee, Parker and Pumehana.

Anyway, I've alluded to Ellie's "dance class." Ellie has turned into such a little girly girl. Twice a week, Bob drives his daughter, Sophie, to her dance class in Geneseo. She has been dancing for about 8 years or so, and in fact, the first time I saw her she was a tiny 10-year-old at her dance recital. Anyway, Ellie had it in her head that 'dance class' was something spectacular and she should be going. For a while now, she would just randomly say, "I go dance class!" and she would dance around the room. Well, Bob was leaving to take Sophie to dance one night and Ellie said, "I go dance class!" If he would have just smiled and left it at that, all would have been well. Instead, he said, "Yes, honey, someday I will take YOU to dance class!" Ellie did not hear or understand "someday." She started babbling about not having socks on and ran off. She came back moments later with her socks, shoes and a coat saying, "I go Oofie's dance class!" Sophie's Thursday dance class is around 8 p.m., bedtime, and they don't let people watch. Bob had to tell her no and we cringed as her face fell and she started screaming.

I paid her off with TV. However, the incident weighed on her daddy's mind and he came up with a better solution: Dance class. He asked Sophie to teach a little class for Ellie and some of the other little girls from church or the neighborhood. The other mom's LOVED this idea, as did Sophie, and now, Ellie and her friends have dance class.

The first week did not go well as parents wanted to watch and siblings were running around. However, week two was better as Sophie took the girls to a different room at the church and began lesson one with how to run and walk like a ballerina.

I am the only mom not at the event. This is Daddy's thing with his girls. As you can see, I went nuts buying her a little dancing dress, but that's where my involvement ended. The first week, Ellie could hardly sleep, had her dress on first thing and any time Bob left her view she panicked. She HAD to go to "my dance class." It is a sweet thing to behold.

I don't know how long it will last or if Sophie will be able to really teach a group comprised of mostly 2-year-olds a real routine, but this is wonderful. My little girl is THRILLED beyond measure and her daddy gets to start over again taking his girls to dance class.

Goodbye dairy and other bits...

If I'd known my Wednesday morning bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats with almonds would be my swan song to milk for a while, I wouldn't have let it get soggy. No, Honey Bunches of Oats -- from a fresh box, mind you -- tastes best when it has been sitting for just a minute and the milk has just absorbed some of that honey yumminess. But, I was chasing kids and checking email and fixing an ad I did for someone and it got soggy.

Like I said, if only I'd known.

Wednesday was Robbie's appointment with a pediatric gastrinologist, Dr. Koorosh Kooros (I can't say it right either...) Basically, since he was just over 3 months old, Robbie essentially hasn't pooped on his own. This has been stressful and may cause me to divorce my family doctor if not my husband. Dr. Hansen has said that Robbie would grow out of it, it would even out after he started solid foods, etc. None of this happened and I've pretty much taken to making Robbie poop (Q-tip, Vaseline, not fun...). Anyway, flash forward to me pitching a small fit over seeing a specialist and then flash again to Robbie and I storming the Galisano's Children's Hospital this week. With his skinny boy body naked but for a diaper and his dashing one-dimpled smile, young Robert was the hit of the pediatric gastrology clinic. We met with Drs. Gable and Kooros and I explained our issue, which apparently is an issue faced by LOTS of other people. Our best guessed diagnosis: Milk protein allergy. Robbie's body, at the moment, views those proteins as alien and fights them. The cure: either a prescription formula OR Mommy goes off the hard stuff until Robbie is done nursing, which in our world happens to coincide with when most children grow out of this allergy.

I am very grateful that, hopefully, this problem will be manageable with diet. I'm sad that I didn't demand something be done earlier. But, we go forward from here a little smarter. At this moment, I am about 41 hours without dairy and I'm HUNGRY. I realized today that I consume about 500 calories of dairy a day and my body appears to miss it. Soy milk is sort of, well, ugh. Not a fan. And my poor by STILL hasn't pooped and they told me I can't help him anymore. Well, they did say it could take up to three weeks for the milk proteins to leave my body. Until then, he gets a laxative and I'm opting to view this as a forced chance to eat healthier for myself.

And, as usual, some photos of our recent events:

At our house, Robbie is crawling and pulling up, the kids are bored of winter (thus the sticker faces...) and Bob is taking Ellie every week to a little dance class for her and her friends taught by her older sister, Sophie. More on that later, but see how cute she is in her dancing dress?