Question: To ride or Not to ride

So, about two months ago or so I stumbled across an ad for a 10, 25, and 50 mile bike ride which will take place this weekend.  I was really excited and tried to get a bunch of people to go with me.   One by one, other engagements have claimed them and now I wonder:  do I do it on my own, or not?  It'll be fun and actie and I'll get a coveted t-shirt....but really, am I just being silly?  And....will I get wet and cold?  And/or bored without someone to chat with the whole way.  So....what do you think??

Gratuitous Brag #2, or....

How to Undo the Health Benefits of a Triathlon in Five Easy Hours

Every year for Missi's birthday (and now for Mandy's too!), we hang out all day and I make petit pain au chocolate -- chocolate filled croissants for the less snobbish among us. Sometimes they go well, and sometimes they don't, and every year I fiddle a little bit with the recipe trying to get that perfect combination of light, fluffy, buttery deliciousness. This year I failed...and I totally succeeded! Good thing I decided to make two batches at the same time, because the Croissant Muses are fickle, fickle chicks. Here are the results:

Batch Number 1 -- old timey mostly perfected recipe which just did NOT pan out (no pun intended) today. Who knows why?!?
There's nothing really wrong with them, but there's nothing really special about them either. Actually we were fairly pleased with them til the next batch came out. But in comparison, they are just somewhat rich bread with some chocolate bunged inside.

And here's the lovely new recipe I decided to try after reading about it last night and thinking it sounded like it might work well. Perfection (almost)! Look at those fluffy layers. So light and yummy!!! But I did them one better with.....


Good ol' regular beautiful crescent-y croissants. I never thought I would turn away form something filled with a delicious mix of dark and semi-sweet chocolate, but somehow the basic version is just better. Without the flashy chocolate, you can really appreciate the smooth, silky, buttery texture and flavor. Mmmmmm!! It's worth the extra 17 pounds I'll have packed on by tomorrow!!

Tri for Hope

Well, I suppose it's about time to kick the ol' blog back into business. I guess for a while I just wanted to forget about a place where you talk about what's going on in your life -- because what I really really wanted had just not happened. But time heals all wounds, and now life feels pretty darn good again. So maybe I'll have some interesting things to say. But probably not....:)

So, a few months ago my friend Missi decided to sign up for a triathlon. We did one a couple of years ago, and because we a) really like each other b) are competitive as, well, I don't know what -- we've always talked about doing another one together. But, since I thought I'd be having a newborn, I opted to sit this one out. Then, when Miss Baby did not actually come, I thought I'd better save my pennies for when - hopefully - the next little one comes down the pike. Unable to turn down a good workout, though, I've been biking with the girls who signed up for this triathlon for the last couple of months. Last week, Missi succeeded in talking me into signing up to run this one with them. Soooooo..that left me with 11 or so days to get my run and my swim in order. Bwah!! So it was with a little trepidation and a whole lot of bravado that I showed up for the race yesterday, with my training buds - Me, Missi, Amy, and Katja. (You can tell I must be feeling pretty good about myself, cause I'm posting a picture of my thighs on the internet. Ah!!!).


This tri was both tiny and only for women. I love these type of events, because they take a lot of pressure and scariness out of the idea of doing a triathlon, and consequently you get ALL SORTS of people signing up and competing. I think it's really inspiring to see all these womanly bodies in all different sorts of sizes and shapes, and all doing something really awesome. I wish our society somehow would celebrate this -- instead of the constant parade of stick-insect "role models" that parade across the magazines in the grocery check out aisle.


For some reason -- I guess so they can identify us, although for 2/3rds of the thing we have numbers on us as well -- they write our ages on us in sharpie. It sort of feels like a badge of honor and I don't know anyone who isn't just a wee bit pleased when the number is still showing the next day. :) It's really inspirational too, because as the race goes on, you can tell when you are passing people younger than you (YEAH!!!!) or being passed by people older than you (a good kick-in-the-rear when your will is flagging.)


Believe it or not, those smiles are AFTER we've finished the race. If that's not proof of the ol' "runner's high" I don't know what is. The race, by the way, was a sprint -- 1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 2 mile run. (And yeah, think about that for a minute. In other disciplines, sprint is like 50 yards, 100 meters......triathlon is just, well, nuts.) I was quite pleased with my aging old bones -- finished it in just over 1 hour 15 and was ninth in my age group, 32nd over all. It's not stellar, but I'm still happy! :) Of course, half of that happiness might be just having the blasted thing over!

Actually, it really was enjoyable until time came to run. We started on the beach, in age group waves, so we got to run into the water (trying to ignore the jiggling thighs) and then swim straight down the beach, trying to avoid being kicked. That's harder than one might imagine, because this being a lake, you really couldn't see people around you until about a nano second before their feet impacted your nose. Between the nerves of the start, the run, and the sudden activity, it was probably half way through the swim before I felt like my lungs might not burst. Then you hit the last bouy and turn into the beach, and it's a quick run up the beach and along some grass to the transition area, where you've left bike, helmet, shoes, and whatever additional clothing you plan on finishing the race with. So now you find yourself out of breath, dizzy from having just run up a hill, and now you've got to put your shoes and socks on -- without sitting down (or passing out) and then jump on your bike and head out onto the roads. We had a really pretty ride around the reservoir which somehow appeared to supply a brisk headwind the entire way around. This part was pretty fun because, thanks to my fleet road bike (thanks fam!!) I got to spend the whole time reeling in slower bikers and flying past them. At the end of the ride we got our first and only major hill -- and right at the bottom of it I got stuck behind a huge truck pulling one of those wood-chipper things, and it was afraid to go around the slow pokes headed up the hill. Between the competition and the oxygen deprivation, I lost my mind and decided to pass the truck. On a hill. On the yellow line. With traffic coming the other way. Thank goodness I'd said my prayers that morning and the Lord didn't feel like teaching me a lesson about consequences, because I came through just fine. The hill pretty much killed the last of my quads, but luckily I was close to the end and got to head downhill. Riding back into transition, it's time to RUN! Now......running after biking hard for 40 minutes, well, there's no other word for it -- it SUCKS. Hugely. Said competitive nature left in a hurry and I found I just really didn't care anymore. My legs agreed. In fact, my legs threatened mutiny continuously. But two miles and twenty minutes of walking and running and walking and running and I crossed the finish line, very very happy to be done.

And then I went back to run the last hundred yards with Missi. It was WAY more fun the second time! But Missi's only words to me pretty much sum up the end-of-tri experience: muttered sideways, under her breath, in a very pained voice, "Where IS IT????" (spoken of the blasted finish line.) :)

Friends who finish together, stay together! :)

Thanks for a great memory, Missi, and Amy and Katja!!

Then again, maybe not....

So, yesterday the months of hoping and planning and thinking and trying NOT to think came to an end. We got the call that Crista had had her baby and had decided to keep her. I've been worrying about this moment since before we even found out that Crista had chosen us (for then) to be the parents of her baby. I was terrified of how bad it would feel, of completely falling to pieces, of not being able to handle it. And you know what -- now that it's here, it's not so bad. Here's the view from here:

Mostly, I just feel normal. So does Mike. I guess that makes sense -- nothing has actually changed in our life. We were a family of three, we are a family of three. We still love each other, we still have fun together, our home is still a happy place. The world didn't end. It just didn't expand.

I thought I would feel this incredible sense of loss. I don't feel any. I realize now that's because I didn't lose a baby -- not in any real way. With each of our fertility tries, especially the ones where we say pictures of the embryos or had positive pregnancy tests, the sense of loss and failure was overhwelming. Now, the only loss I feel is the loss of a timeframe. We thought she was coming this week. We feel now that she's still coming (unless she's a he -- and then we have some painting to do!!), now we're just back to not knowing when. That's pretty familiar territory for us. It sucks, I hate it, I wish it were still going to be next week, I still sometimes find myself thinking I won't be able to do this or that thing next month because I'll have a baby. It hurts, but it's bearable.

I feel myself periodically wanting to get angry. But then, who is there to get angry at? Crista? How can I be angry at her for keeping the baby that she loves -- especially since I wanted her too, and I never met her! The situation? We spent a lot of time and energy and effort (and money) getting to know Crista, getting the room ready and all the requisite stuff, rearranging our lives. But, that's what you do, right? No one was acting in bad faith, no one did this on purpose....it just happens. Adoption is hard. Becoming a parent is hard. People who do it the normal way face backaches and labor pains and swollen ankles -- and sometimes much, much worse outcomes. We adoptive parents face trials and pains of a different nature. But you risk the pain because the result, when you get there, is worth it a million times over. In the past I've always had a fallback of getting mad at God, but how can I do that when his tender mercies have been with me every moment?

Prayer can move mountains and bring to pass miracles. Sadly, it wasn't the miracle I really wanted, but there was a miracle wrought in my life nonetheless and it is this: we are all ok. We have been ensconced all weekend in a mantle of peace and reassurance. I have felt so much love from so many different corners, knowing people were praying and hoping for us. I have not fallen to pieces and my heart is not broken. I am able to see and be grateful for the immense good that is in my life. I am so grateful that this time, I haven't been washed away by this huge tidal wave of despair, floudering and unable to see any good in life. I am ok. Life is good. Life goes on. And our life is full of blessings, even in the midst of the storm. We were here in Ohio, and hadn't gone yet to Texas for the birth. We didn't have to disrupt our lives and Jack's. We didn't have to meet the baby and then loose her. We were able to just carry on with our lives. I am here, surrounded by my gorgeous friends, who came to spend the first night with me and remind me that life is pretty darn sweet just as it is. (And the friends who texted, chatted, called, sent emails, and were present in my life in so many other ways.) For that matter, I'm blessed to live in this age of incredible technology where we are all connected no matter how far away we move (or are moved from.)

So, what next? We move on into a new week, and hope soon to have another phone call from Texas saying someone else thinks we would be the perfect parents for their little one.

Just add baby.....

Where ya been, Miss Sophie?

Well, I've been just a wee bit snowed under with my life at the moment. To whit: crazy thick-with-data anatomy class eating up most of Tues and Thurs and untold hours of studying, crazy rampant subbing on the other days in order to offset not working at all for the next five or six years, the requisite workouts and teaching at the Y and housework, and then the complete revamping of two bedrooms in our home and other preparations for our brand new gorgeous awesome family member.

Here's the fun output:

First up, we could hardly start painting for a new baby without taking care of the original one. We'd been promising Jack an updated room (he's just a WEE bit old for Koala Brothers) -- so we moved him into the spare room (he apparently thought he was gonna get to keep the computer that had been in there before. Nope!!) and got down to painting it his favorite color. Now the only trouble is, how to find the kid??

I just really love this room. It makes me smile.

Next, it was on to the new room. After this long out number by males, I went full-bore girly. It was a little hard to paint over the masterpiece that Jenn and I worked on together....but once I got into it, it just got funny. Look at those legs just dangling out!!


Then a little white on the bottom. Stay tuned to see why there's still a stripe of cartoon-character limbs.

It will eventually be a chair rail. We were going to go with beadboard, but given that time is advancing RAPIDLY, we figured we'd better go with somethign a little quicker. Mike got the rails painted this weekend, and they'll go up in a couple days when we can lift Josh's nail gun!
Tonight -- he's working on putting together the, gulp!!!, crib. You know, it's sorta difficult to stay in denial when there's a crib hanging out in the room across the hall. It's not like we haven't been waiting for ever and ever, and wishing and hoping and praying....but somehow is just seems really surreal that we are going to be (hopefully!!!) parents again. And of a girl!! Schweeeee!!!





Jack is doing his part to get ready for his baby sister. I walked into our room the other evening and saw he'd taken a moment to make sure she was properly armed!!

Some places just stay in your heart....

Almost eight years ago Jack, Mike, and I left Texas. We were excited to be getting home close to family and our fabulous friends. But we didn't realize how much we had fallen in love with our new home of San Antonio. I miss it SO much -- and this week, we get to go back!!!! I can't wait, so I had to post a few of my favorite things that I'm so excited to get to visit again!

The Bluebonnets. Who can resist a field full of these gorgeous peppy spring flowers. I just hope they haven't all gone by the time we get down there.

The Alamo! No Texan, whether native born or just wishing they were, can't resist the birthplace of Texas Independence. Mike and I used to sometimes just hop in the car and drive down to see it. It just has that kind of spirit to it.

The Riverwalk, especially at night. (Just don't eat and Cafe Rio.)

Instead, definitely eat at Taco Cabana. Freshly cut cilantro in the salsa bar -- yum!!!

And then there's the wildlife.....

Longhorns. So cool!

The beautiful live oaks in all their amazing shapes.

Coyotes! They used to serenade us from the park behind our apartment every evening in the summer. And then there's the one that seemed to commute at the same time I did -- he'd cross my path on my way to school.

And the cowboys in their pickup trucks!

And our favorite favorite hiking places --

Hill Country SNA

Lost Maples

Pedernales Falls -- also home to the worlds most fabulous beef jerky

And the Frio River

Oh, man, there is just NO WAY I am ever going to be able to leave again. I love this place!!!