It's a Girl

On July 17, 2001 at 11:15am Maura Cathryn Lawrence was born.  

 
I think I knew from the moment I found out that I was pregnant that the baby would be a girl.  I was afraid to have a girl.  Girls are complicated and moody and they give you trouble.  And boy did this baby give me trouble! I was sick from day one.  Tired all of the time.  And ended up on bed rest for the last two months of the pregnancy.  For the icing on the cake, I fell and broke my arm two days before she was born, so I delivered her with one good arm.

Soon after Cate was born, she and I shared a moment in our hospital room.  Our eyes locked and for several minutes we just quietly stared at each other.  I realized I was wrong - this girl wasn't trouble.  She was a blessing.  It is one of the most clear memories I have.  With her arrival - our family was complete.  We had a sweet boy and a sweet girl.

My baby girl is not a baby anymore.  She turns 10.  Double digits.  She is a smart, thoughtful, caring, loving, helpful, beautiful girl.  And I count my blessings everyday that God chose me to be her mother. 

She is adventurous.

She is musical.

She is a horse woman. 











She is my sweet baby girl and I treasure our relationship.

Happy 10th Birthday to my Pooh Bear and my best girl friend!  I am so excited to see the young woman you will grow up to be.

I love you, Mom.  XO

Who Says You Can't Go Home

Last night, I was lucky enough to spend several hours catching up with some "old friends".  All of them I have know since Middle School - with a couple from way back in the second grade.  Words cannot describe how much I loved seeing everyone. We grew up together in a small town.  Our high school class had just shy of 250 kids - and we all knew each other (in contrast to my husband who grew up in a DC suburb and had 700 kids in his class). 

I loved catching up and hearing everyone's stories.  I learned about kids (and grand kids!), career paths, spouses (and some ex-spouses), changes in our home town.  And we all laughed over the endless shared memories - Goat Man's, the King and Queen Seat, McDonald's on 22, the Pines, parties when Rob's parent's were at Sturgis, and the list goes on.  I was reminded that when you are young and feeling indestructible - you make some pretty interesting choices. 

Our graduating class has remained close since we graduated in 1985.  I credit the hard work of a couple of our classmates who were determined to host a reunion every five years.  Because of them, we are quite probably the only Aberdeen High School class in recent memory who has stayed in touch.  We were on an e-mail list serve before Facebook and now most of us have FB accounts. Even though our hometown is no longer small - and is in effect a Baltimore suburb - our reunions and social media accounts have kept us together and help keep connections close.  For that I am grateful.

Last night, there was a mathematician, a nurse, a machinist, a scientist, two teachers, two executive chefs, an Air Force veteran, an insurance representative, and an association director.  But, in these grown ups (gasp!), I saw clearly, the young men and women we used to be. 

I guess you can go home.  

I love you all!!

Peace.

Tee

SK8er Boy

I had some time between doctor appointments and errands yesterday so I stopped by to see Connor at Skate Camp. 

People who skate get a bad rap.  The public thinks they're a nuisance - what with their long hair, sagging skinny jeans, and such.  The thing is, if you observe a group of skaters together, the have a culture that is supportive and encouraging (with a little trash talk thrown in because that's what teenage boys do).  When there is a "little dude" skating, they look out for him and offer advice.  When someone lands a trick - there is wide appreciation because they all know how much practice it takes to get there.  Connor's camp leader is one of the most gentle souls I have ever spoken to.  And he is so encouraging to the kids. 

Skaters are often run off from sidewalks and parking lots.  Cops are called.  Luckily Silver Spring recognized that there is a need for a place for the kids to skate and they built a skate park.  The park was built after the efforts of some young documentary filmmakers - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqdibiYlzD8.

My son is not a team sport kid.  He has chosen boarding as his sport.  The enjoyment and challenge he gets from it makes me happy for him.  Watching him skate yesterday was one of the best things I've done in awhile.

I am proud of my SK8er Boy. 

Peace, Love, and Vans.
Tee

Runner Girl

A lot of things define who I am but near the top of the list is this statement - I am a runner.

Finishing my first Marathon

I wasn't always a runner.  In fact, sports or exercise of any kind was not really a high priority for me.  And then, my heart was broken.  I was carrying around an immense load of grief after the break up of a long and important relationship.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  I needed an outlet.  And someone said, "Go for a run."  Out of desperation, but not believing that a few miles in running shoes would make a difference, I ran.  And the grief felt a little lighter.  My first few times out running were accompanied by lots of tears and many conversations in my head.  I spent a lot of time pounding the pavement and reliving three years spent loving someone only to lose them.  Each time out, I ran farther and my grief became lighter.  There was one run where I spent most of it listening to my SONY Walkman and not the sadness in my head.  I realized that I had run through to the other side.

Over the years running has remained an integral part of who I am and how I manage my stress.  There is no better therapy than pounding out the pavement.  No better way to celebrate your surroundings than by logging a few miles with Mother Nature. 

Dad and Me at the Annapolis 10 Miler

My Dad and I bond over running.  He ran track and cross country in high school and has placed in his age groups at races over the years.  He is waaayyyy faster than I am.  I am built more for comfort than for speed. We did our first Marathon together and have run 10 milers and 5Ks together. 

Connor joins me for the run to the finish

Connor and Me - Crossing the finish line together

 I used running to get back in shape after having my kids.

Celebrating the finish with Connor and Cate

I was recently sidelined by a surgery to stabilize an aging ankle.  I couldn't run for almost 9 months.  It was as if a piece of me had been taken away.  When I got the all clear to run again, I felt like singing.  Now I try to run every day if possible, even if it's just for a bit.  I have my eye on the 2012 Warrior Dash.

"Running has given me the courage to start, the determination to keep trying, and the childlike spirit to have fun along the way. Run often and run long, but never outrun your joy of running."  Julie Isphording, Marathon winner

Wife. Mother. Daughter. Sibling. Friend. Runner. 

"Bid me run and I will strive with things impossible." Julius Caesar (Shakespeare)

Peace and Happy Miles. 

The Men in My Life

With Father's Day tomorrow I think this is a good time for me to do a blog post to celebrate the men in my life.  So here goes.

My Dad - Anyone who meets my Dad, loves my Dad.  He gives lollipops to the people in the toll booths.  My PopPop was also a happy guy and Dad reminds me of him.  One time when my Dad was having an MRI done on his head, the technician called my step-mother over to point out that my dad's brain looked like a smiley face.  I learned to love sports sitting on his lap watching the Colts, the Orioles and the Terps play.  When I spoke at my Dad's 50th Birthday party I spoke about how my Dad and I grew up together.    He was 18 when I was born.  I was an adult at his 40th birthday party.   I am 44 and Dad still calls me Baby Girl and still reaches for my hand if we are crossing a street together.  My siblings and I are lucky to have him and our kids are lucky to have a such a great PopPop. 

My Husband - I met the "B" over 20 years ago - in a bar - and we became friends immediately.  We bonded over March birthdays and beer at the Vous.  In many ways I think  that the foundation built on friendship is key to the success of our relationship today.  Marriage is never easy, but it is made more so by being with a partner who is willing to love you, hate you, grow with you, talk to you, listen to you, let you fly when you need to, disagree with you, fight with you, apologize, and realize that it is all part of the ride.  The "B" does all of that (with a little spoiling thrown in for good measure).  And everyday I am grateful for such a partner and that he is the father of our children.

My Son - Twelve years ago I became a mother when my beautiful baby son was born.  And although not technically a man, as he grows and takes the steps to becoming a young man, I am overwhelmed at the potential and the possibility all mixed up with attitude, long hair and skinny jeans.  He challenges me everyday to be a better, more patient, more flexible, more loving person.  Being in the tweenage/teenage weeds is rough but as I see glimpses of the person he is growing to be I know it is all worth it.

Peace and Happy Father's Day.
Tee

I was in bed this morning relishing the opportunity to sleep in a little on a weekday.  I heard Connor moving around as he got up and got himself ready for school.  I called out to him and he knocked and came into my room.  "Good morning, Buby" I say.  He walks around the bed and crawls in for a quick cuddle and a chat about his day and the fact that I left lunch money on his binder.  Connor then hopped up and went on with his morning routine. 

After he left I was struck by the smell of him.  He smells like deodorant and hair product.  He smells like a grown up - a man. This hits me like a ton of bricks and I am instantly awake.  And  I remember that other smell - the newborn smell - and realize that that smell will never be mine again - at least not as a mother.  And my heart aches. 

And it makes me realize that this is not just about Connor but also about Cate.  She has gone from a quiet, shy little one who was often in her brother's shadow, to a young girl who is wishing for waves in her hair and speaks her mind more confidently. 

And it is a potent reminder that as they age, so do I.  And that makes me freak out just a little

I realize that the whole growing up thing is inevitable and that I have helped it along through my constant encouragement that they tackle life head on.  But the smell of my boy with his Old Spice deodorant reminds me that time goes too quickly and I realize that I would give anything for just one chance to hold my babies again, and to smell them again.

Peace.

Breaking an Addiction

I am an addict.  There.  I said it.  Isn't that the first step to conquering an addiction?  Admitting that the addiction exists.

I am addicted to the bottle - the hair color bottle.  I have been coloring my hair since I was a freshman in college - 26 years.  It started with Sun In and grew from there.  I have been coloring my hair for so long, I no longer remember what my original hair color is.

I used to dye my hair because it was fun and let's face it, hair is meant to be used for fun.  Then, I found my first gray hair - which was quickly followed by more - and dying my hair was my way of staying one step ahead of age.

But I am becoming exhausted and my wallet is taking a hit trying to stay ahead of the gray.  Almost as soon as the color is finished processing, my lovely gray Lily Munster streak starts to come through.  So, I am wondering if it's time to check in to hair color rehab. 

The problem is, I don't want to just stop coloring my hair and let it grow out so that eventually I have two-tone hair before cutting off the old color.  I honestly don't think I could handle that.  So, I am seriously considering taking a kamikaze approach to going gray and cutting my hair very short - a la Mia Farrow - thus cutting off all of the color and letting my natural hair grow in.

I have a friend who beat her bottle addiction by close cropping her hair and letting it grow out to her natural color.  And her hair is gorgeous - it's silvery gray and doesn't age her.  I am terrified that if I do this it will be the opposite result.  I am afraid my hair is going to come in looking like salt and cayenne and make me look old. 

Can I drown out the siren song of Revlon and L'Oreal and allow my hair to age gracefully?