Beauty

Beauty:

Last week I forgot my bike shoes on a ridiculously early morning ride with my wonderful friends.

Forgetting bike shoes on a road bike is like forgetting ski boots on skis, cause you’re all strapped in, all fancy like

…that and I drove in in slippers.

There was no riding for me.

Which was bad because I woke up all amp’d to ride and then I couldn’t…..

….and then the stress of the day took its toll

….mito kids were not doing well

I came home and I needed to ride.

My bike shoes greeted me at the door like abandon puppies…were ya’ been? You left us!  

Or that is how I would like to think of them because they are so stinkin’ cute!



Here they are left over right….mixin’ it up.



I rode. Head full, heart heavy.

I rode more, head clear…

I rode more….heart beating too fast to be heavy

I rode more….I could no longer think, only yell back at my legs

My legs are COMPLAINERS!!!!

A butterfly landed on my hand….kinda because I was climbing so slow, the butterfly thought I was a good place to land…like a very slow island. And I studied this delicate, beautiful wonder until a bead of Heather sweat landed on its wings…..

EWWWWWW…

It flew away.

This week was hard. Our special needs community lost a dear boy.

Lost….he died.

It is surreal to me that I am part of a community where children die. But I am, and in an odd way, this reality is what connects us. This unreal, horrible , vulnerable reality connects us.

And the news was sent out. And we all processed it….as mothers, as friends, as warriors. And we cried….

And then we search for the beauty.

I think these Special Needs Moms are amazing; I don’t know if it’s because bad news has been told so often, the good is searched for and then inhaled like oxygen.

Or if the bad has been told so often that every new day is a gift.

Or if magically, they find a way to clear the head and fill the lungs.

No matter. To bike shoes. To a beating heart.  And a sweaty butterfly. 

We Are Good. We Have Plenty

I do like Thanksgiving. 

I find it the simpler of holidays….a holiday focused around a meal, gratitude, family….. 

Hubs and I went to Virginia to visit my Mama-in-Law. The flight is long, the drive is long….time to think…the visit is relaxing and instead of Black Friday shopping, I thought about what I am grateful for. 

I post a lot about gratitude and I do mean it- Our family and friends are like oxygen to me but if I said that the holidays don’t get to me a bit, I would be lying. I would love our family to be different. 

but we are not

and so I search for simpler things to make me grateful: 

1. Pink sunrises and sunsets: 
Times when the world is illuminated in pink are the times when I know my girl is watching over me. In Colorado, there are times when the entire horizon is enveloped in pink. I look up, take a deep breath, and thank her

2. People over 80: 
I spent this vacation with the most interesting people; one who was a secretary during the Nuremberg trails, another who spent time with Lindbergh (she commented that he was a crazy driver). So many stories, so much life, I ate it up with a spoon. We talked about life and ate pie. These 80+ women were the Cat’s Pajamas. 

3. Cats Pajamas: 
Just ‘cuz

4. I am happy I can read: 
14% of us in the US cannot. Think about that book that you treasure and how it changed your life. 

5. My body: 
HA! Because I never scrutinize it the mirror 🙂 

As I get older it is less about my pouchy belly but more that I am thrilled to have legs that will take me up a mountain and down a mogul field. It is not perfect but it works and I am happy everyday for my beating heart, my breathing lungs and my gigantic you-can-feed-a village-thighs

6. My job: 
I do like my job, my company and the people I work with

7. Our nieces and nephews: 
My goodness, how we adore you. And what a thrill it is to see the oldest become a good man, the youngest smile and the joy you ALL bring our families. That….. and you still think I’m cool or let me think I think I’m cool. I love you. 

8. My Babies:
It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. You will always be the best thing I have ever, ever done 

9. Hubs: 
Yeah…..you’re pretty good. It’s not until you walk through hell and back that you realize who you want to walk through hell and back with

10. I am grateful to this life: 
To this journey. We are here only briefly. What will we do? Will we lament how we have been robbed? or will we look for the pink in the sunset? 

As I set the Thanksgiving table we talked…..do we need to carve more turkey? Do you need more rolls? Stuffing? 

The response? We are good. We have plenty. 

Heady Mama- By Samantha

Mama is a bit full of herself the past couple days. Her attention should be fully on ME but lately she’s like a giddy school girl.

She gets like this when she gets published. This week she’s seen her name in print twice so go figure, she’s queen of the world.

Earlier this week her essay on I’m Bringing Sexy Back came out in Get Born. It highlights a typical date night for Mama and Daddy……zzzzzzzzzzz……

Mama loves Get Born, adores the editor and says the writing is unique and snarky….whatever that means. I’m only interested in the pictures and as Mama would say, the photography is fabulous.

Check back here the next week or two….Mama will be giving away a Get Born subscription to her 20,000 visitor!

And then, THEN, because she just wasn’t prancing around enough…..this arrived yesterday; Mama’s second Chicken Soup publication. And there she is on page 25.

To make matters even worse, none of these stories are about me. Thanks Dad! is a story about Pops.

This sexy story is about date night. Date night? What’s interesting about date night? It only means I get a babysitter.

I the midst of her gallivanting around the house, Mama did manage to talk me for walk yesterday. She taught me how to moo at the cows….Silly Mama.



Can I Hold You Tight Enough?

Sometimes after a tough week….

When our precious, fragile community seems to be on it’s knees…

When kiddos we know and love have been hospitalized, poked, prodded and even induced into a coma so that their poor brain can stop seizing…

I place Samantha on my lap,

And smell her sweet breath,

And kiss her nose,

And feel her eyelashes blink against my cheek,

And think that I cannot possibly hold her closer or adore her more.

The 20th Reunion and My Facebook Addiction

My 20 year high school reunion was planned through Facebook.

I think the only computer class I took in high school was on a clunky IBM with a black screen and green characters, it hummed when it was thinking. This was before AOL had mail, when Amazon was only a river and Bill Gates was still nerdy. Now look at me, my computer is chained to my right hand; right by my i-phone and my mp3 player. The Internet is my social, artistic and informational network.

Facebook.

Because all Facebook don’t we? Of course we do (oh come on, admit it). We post pictures of our vacations, our children, our events. It is the ultimate, ultimate social network. When I got the invitation to my 20th, I started connecting with long, lost high school buddies; checking blog sites, seeing what everyone was up to, commenting on cute three-year old birthday photos.

As it got closer to our reunion, someone commented that maybe Facebook had replaced the need for reunions. Was this true? Did we no longer need to meet and exchange cute birthday photos if we had already done it on Facebook?

Interesting thought….I had connected with many people who I didn’t think I would ever see again. Suddenly I knew where they had vacationed in Europe, how many children they had and that on Thursday night, they were quite annoyed that the cat had thrown up on the Persian rug.

Does this qualify as a reunion?

My answer after this weekend is resoundingly…..NO….

It does help. Walking into room of people I hadn’t seen in a while, it was nice to know who just bought a house, who got married, who has a new girlfriend…..it takes the small talk out of the situation. It is a little strange however, to know so much about some one’s life who you actually haven’t seen in twenty years. It’s a level of knowing that maybe I haven’t earned because I haven’t actually seen them in a while.

And let’s face it, it is quite odd to meet your classmates new husband and already know that on Wednesday night they had quite the flatulence problem because their wife posted it on Facebook. Hmmmmm….let’s work up to that knowledge, perhaps over a beer or two.

So no, this network doesn’t replace conversation and interaction. We can blog, text, facebook, email and tweet…….it’s all good but it doesn’t mean quite as much until we meet…..

and it was good to meet again 🙂

Crazy Thoughts From the Middle of Nothern CO

So this post might be a little far reaching for some. I hesitated on posting it but these thoughts have been sticking with me through dinner and a thorough kitchen cleaning. It is time for me to purge…bear with me.

I walked a labyrinth today. I have never walked a labyrinth but I have to say, it’s quite a meditative, thoughtful event. My friend Quinn took our writer’s group through the process.

We waited at the entrance of the maze. Quinn gave us a meditation, something to ponder as we made our way through.

“Imagine you are entering the Universe of the Great Mother. You can envision her as the Great Goddess, Mother Earth, the Virgin Mary, the Buddha Tara, the Chinese Kwan Yin or any other feminine manifestation of Divine Energy.”

Got it. I rung the bell at the entrance and started my walk. As I walked, I thought of the Virgin Mary. This surprised me. I am usually a Mother Earth or Buddha type of girl but today, I thought of Mary.

Why Mary?
I thought. I looked around. The prairie landscape reminded me of my trip through the Ilhara Valley in Turkey. Historians say that Mary settled Ilhara after Jesus was crucified. Perhaps that’s why I’m relating to her, it’s the landscape. I continued to walk and thought about my trip to Turkey many, many years ago. Years before I was a mom, years before my life changed so profoundly.

Maybe it’s because her life changed profoundly too, maybe because she was told what her life was going to be, maybe because before she was Saint Mary, the Virgin Mary, one of the most significant female figures in civilization, she was a mother. I thought.

Oh.

Well.

That could be it. Today Mary might be easier to relate to than Kali, the Hindu goddess who is known to lie in a bed of snakes.

I don’t like snakes.

So I walked the rest of the labyrinth thinking of Mary. Thinking of her strength, compassion and her role as a mother. She became more relate able to me than in any church service, any Sunday school or Western religion class and I was really happy to have her join me.

Funny thing is that I’m not really the religious sort but I was filled with peace and acceptance during my walk. Amazing what (and who) you can find in the middle of Northern CO.

Saints, Asses and Tomtaoes

Saints

Our life continues to be blessed with people who love Samantha and are not intimidated by her medical needs. This makes life doable, bearable, pleasurable and enjoyable. The latest addition to Team Samantha is Kelly; the daughter of our next-door neighbor, nursing student and fan of our little peanut.

Perfect!

Kelly shows up at the door with her keyboard so she can play for Samantha. She sings, reads and cuddles.

Mama goes out for a ride because it is, after all, only 2 1/2 months until the Courage Classic. Mama rides stress free knowing that another Samantha Saint is watching over little Princess.

Asses

Speaking of Mama….I must confess that there are times when yes, I can be, an Ass. Sometimes I don’t realize it until I’m in throws of my behavior and then it hits me….”oops….I’m being an ass”

The other day the car in front of me can to a stop and looked like he was trying to merge in the turn lane. Lanes on either side of us were moving quickly and it looked like he had stopped traffic so he could get in the turn lane (or at least this is what it seemed like to me).

“Oh come on.” I said.

No movement.

I honked my horn.

I tried to go around him.

I honked again.

And then I realized that the REASON he had stopped and was trying to change lanes was because the car in front of him had stalled. Ooops…nevermind.

THEN to make matters worse, he pulled into the other lane and made room for me to get by. I was so embarassed I rolled down the window and apologized.

“I’m sorry I honked at you. I didn’t realized what was going on.”

He waved, smiled and continued to eat his banana.

I was embarassed; me and my road rage. I then, on top of it all, he was nice!

I then I realized what he did. I had been an ass, he had let it pass.

I got an Ass Pass.

The other day I was out on my bike and got cut off by a car. We both stopped at the red light. Instead of giving him a lecture on sharing the road or at the very least a good glaring, I decided to give him a pass….ass pass.

Maybe it would be a better place if we didn’t assume that wrong doings are a personal assult but merely a person distracted or having a bad day. Maybe they just need a pass.

Tomatos

My garden is planted and I am growing baby yum yums that will burst into lovely veggies in a month or two. I love this! I love eating food I have planted, watered and cared for.

We have a rouge bunny that keeps showing up with a napkin, knife and fork. Not sure if I’m generous enough to give HIM a pass.

Happy Spring my friends

Mama takes me golfing

Mother’s Day was rainy, grey and a bit chilly. Did that stop my Mama from taking me out? Nah

We went golfing, as a family. It really was quite fun. I developed quite a knack for driving the golf cart!

Here’s Pops….where did his ball go?

Daddy takes a shot.

Mama’s happy to be out!

Nonnie, Mama and Me bundled up in the cart.

Crazy Pops!

My favorite place to be

I am too young to comment on this picture.

Now looking at this picture, golf just seems silly.

It was such a nice day and so much fun to do something as a family. Mama, by the way, golfed her best game ever! Good day.

The deeper side of Mother’s Day

I have to preface this by saying I had a great Mother’s Day. Samantha joined us for a fun round of golf (she felt it necessary to help drive the cart), had a lovely dinner and most importantly, Samantha had a good day. Let’s face it, when Samantha has a good day, everyone has a good day!

I had so much fun I forgot to take pictures. Fortunately Nonnie stepped in so footage will be posted soon.

As I was getting ready this morning I thought about how happy I was that we were not in Children’s for Mother’s Day…..these are the crazy things that go through my mind when plucking my eyebrows.

Well, what about those families who are in Children’s today? I thought. Would they still find joy in the day? Open Mother’s Day cards while sitting on that little pull-out bed? Have brunch in the hospital cafeteria? Can you celebrate while being worried and sad for your child?

My thoughts went back to Mother’s Day three years ago. It was the first Mother’s Day after we lost Jack….

again, I think I should just stop plucking the eyebrows if these are the thoughts that go through my head during this procedure.

How did you get through that? That had to be a sad day. Funny thing, I don’t remember being sad. Introspective perhaps, but not sad. Why was I not sad? Did I block some memory out? Did I repress some bad Mother’s Day juju three years ago?

And then I remembered that three years ago I was quite pregnant with Samantha.

And then there, in front of the mirror, with tweezers in hand, I felt so very grateful for my little girl. My grooming session was also over because I was all weapy.

She had given me hope that Mother’s Day; my dream, my faith, my tiny wish. I hadn’t even met this little peanut but she had allowed me to look into the future with a new sense of optimism.

What a good daughter. Hope, that was her gift and it continues to be her gift; every single day. That’s better than any Hallmark card, even if it does play music.

Thank you Samantha.

Gonna Ride like the Wind

Ahhh..whatever happened to Air Supply? Good tunes, good tunes.

So since people are donating to our Courage Classic team, I decided I should get out and start training.

Ouch.

I am not a fan of the wind. My favorite memory of a windy night was with my friend Jessica. We were taking an overnight ferry from Italy to Greece. Our sleeping choices included inside a fumey, hot, natsy lounge area or outside; under the stars, in the fresh air, with a lovely view of the ocean.

We chose outside; which at 10:00 in the evening, under the protective blanket of the Italian coast seemed like a perfectly reasonable choice. We couldn’t believe more people were joining us. Then it turned midnight and our little steamer turned into the open sea, and the wind started blowing. We toughed it out in the gale force winds until 2:00 in the morning.

“Jess,” I said, “Jess we have to go inside, this is nuts.” I couldn’t find Jessica. She had buried herself in the confines of her sleeping bag. She poked her head out and the wind immediately caught hold of her bright red hair.

“THE WIND!” She yelled. “THE WIND IS A BASTARD!” She was howling. The wind was howling. She looked like a crazy red-headed mermaid, wiggling in her sleeping bag. We drug our belongings into the hot, nasty lounge and settled in for a sleepless night.

The wind is a bastard…..the wind is a bastard. I used this quote many times on my ride. Headwinds are nasty, unfriendly and even worse when your traveling your out-of-shape hiney uphill. I passed by Windy Glades Ranch, sounds poetic doesn’t it? Hmmmmm…..

And then I changed directions and the wind went away. Funny how that happens. I could relax and recall with a smile Jessica’s red, red hair whipping around that night.

I made it two hours and only inhaled one bug. Not bad for a starter training ride.

Vail Pass here I come.

Wanna donate to my ride? Check out http://www.couragetours.com/2009/hschichtel

Muchas Gracias 🙂