The eye of the tiger

Other than being an extremely cool place to live, Asheville boasts itself as being one of the more active communities in the Southeast. People of all ages kayak, hike, fish, run, bike, golf and do lots and lots of outside sports on a pretty regular basis. Our year-round mild weather supports it, as do all the crazy, healthy people who sponsor races and events throughout each season. It’s infectious. And after this slightly lazy Midwesterner moved here nearly seven years ago, I decided to take full-advantage of all this place has to offer. And I became a runner.

And let me take a quick pause here to mention that growing up I never really possessed any sort of athletic ability, other than standing under a basket or on the other side of a volleyball net and waving my extremely long arms in the air, or driving a golf ball a mile and then missing a two-foot putt. Thus the extent of my high school sporting career. Awkward Brooke, maybe blocking a few shots but mostly sitting on the bench getting belittled by our team’s fat, pathetic excuse of a volleyball coach. I’m talking to you, Darrell Ehlers. You will be happy to know that you are number one on my People To Give A Piece Of My Mind To list.

I digress. So. I move to Asheville, started running, had a baby and kept running, however now I was pushing another person up and down the killer hills that exist at EVERY intersection within city limits. But luckily all of my favorite friends here liked to run too, and we started a stroller club. Which allows us twice-weekly opportunities to share our hilarious child-rearing stories, catch-up on gossip and trim our backsides. Not to mention the frequent visits Taylor and I make to the gym, allowing me my daily one-hour break and excuse to run off any sort of anxiety that exists from raising a sassy toddler. Right now I feel like I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in.

And this weekend all my months and months of pushing Taylor up mountains was put to the test, with me running in 5k races both yesterday and today. I went into yesterday’s event without any real expectations, just wanting to finish the hilly-course in less than 30 minutes and not barf as I crossed the finish line. Here I am with my training partner right before the race, who was still a bit confused as to why we got her up so early:

So, in case you were wondering, I most definitely did NOT upchuck when the race ended. Instead, I ran across the finish line with enough adrenaline that I could have run two more races right then and there. If you’ve never experienced the feeling of finishing a race, go sign up. It’s an unbelievable high. I’m STILL flying. And not only did I finish it, but I KILLED it. I ran the 3.1 mile course in 26 minutes and 44 seconds, placing me 104th out of the 572 runners. Here I am making the final turn - Note the expression on the dude behind me, totally in shock of HOW FAST I AM:

And after I finished, kissed my husband and baby and stretched, I was able to cheer on my good friend, Chele, as she finished running the half-marathon race that was going on at the same time. And, for the third year in a row, I CRIED when she crossed the finish-line. She is a beautiful, running goddess and I am so very, very proud of her.

And this morning I got up and did it all again. Granted, this 5k course was a bit flatter and less hellish, but I pushed myself at the end and actually beat yesterday’s time, clocking in at 26 minutes and change. And, here I am, typing this up almost 12 hours after the run and I’m still riding my finish-line-high.

In your face, Darrell Ehlers.

Go Hawks!

Since Chris and I were both traveling last Saturday, we were excited to watch our delayed college football season start this afternoon. Especially when our first glimpse of our beloved Iowa squad was watching them wipe the floor with the Cyclones. And our littlest Hawkeye was pretty excited too.

Here are T and the Rubes doing the Hokey Pokey after the game:

GO HAWKS!

17 months old

Today my sweet potato punkin pie turns 17 months old. And as I sit down to record all the milestones Taylor hit during the last month, the first thing that comes to mind is how big she’s gotten. I’m around this girl all day, every day, and I can still recognize how much she’s grown in the last weeks. Chris was away from her for a little over a week, and when they were reunited, he just kept remarking on how grown-up she looks. Where’d our baby go?

And when I say big, I really mean BIG. Gigantic. And she’s getting heavy as all get-out. Almost to the point where I’m having a hard time carrying her all over the place. And, honey pie, it would really help Momma out if you would just HOLD ON TO ME. I’m serious. She’s never helped me out when I’ve carried her, and now it’s to the point that it’s hard to multi-task when carting her in and out of places. But at least I’m gaining some freakish strength in my left arm.

So she’s a big, happy toddler who is talking and jabbering ALL THE TIME. And she actually knows what she’s saying now, and is doing so well with learning new words and sounds. She wants her baby, she says, BAY-BEE. She wants a drink, she says, JOOS. She wants to harass her four-legged sister, she says, RUUUUUUBE. And while we were at my parents’ last week, she learned how to say, Thank you. Which is about the sweetest, cutest thing in the world, when you hand her a snack and she grabs it, looks at you with those big, blue eyes, smiles and yells, DANK-U! My Gomar would be so proud.

Unfortunately one of her favorite words is still NO. And some days that will be the ONLY WORD SHE SAYS. Taylor, would you like some juice? NO! Taylor, let’s go to the park. NO! Taylor, please don‘t pull Ruby‘s ears. NO! Taylor, you’re driving your Momma nuts. NO!

She’s also started to have some issues playing with other kids, noticeably marked by a handful of playdates that end with Taylor throwing her body on top of the other kid’s toys and screaming bloody-murder until she has physically tucked every single play-thing into her arms. Which is not only loud and hard to carry on a conversation over, but rather embarrassing. Who replaced my mild-mannered little girl with this toy-obsessed bully?

Oh, and another not-so-nice behavior that evolved this past month is the dreaded TEMPER TANTRUM. Thanks, Universe. I thought I had at least a few more months before I had to deal with the Terrible Twos. And trust me, I’m still in complete denial, and I’m pretty sure I’ll still partly blame all nasty outbursts on TEETHING until she turns 30. Because my loving, sweet baby girl would never flop around like a fish or wail at the top of her lungs unless she was in actual pain. RIGHT?

But, unfortunately, all her teeth are accounted for and we’re still averaging one to two melt-downs a day. And the other night, after she THREW her plate off her tray at dinner and sobbed through dessert, Chris and I had a sit down to discuss how we’re gonna manage these come-aparts. Because otherwise, Momma would be starting happy hour around two or three every afternoon. And the best solution we could think of is to just ignore her. Make a point of it, and actually turn our backs to her and pretend we’re not affected at all by her screams. And this morning, after she erupted because we wouldn’t let her feed scramble eggs to her baby - the horror! - we continued on with our usual breakfast conversation over her crying and flopping, and after about five minutes she calmed herself down and finished her food. And Chris looked over to her with a cheesy grin and said, Honey, Mom and Dad just won that battle. Get used to it.

So, yes, it’s been a challenging month. And I look back to when we first brought her home, and how hard we thought it was then. Come on! All I had to do was feed her a billion times a day, make sure she had a clean diaper and the rest was gravy. That was a cake walk compared to chasing her through an airport, calming outbursts and making sure she is constantly entertained. So, this is PARENTHOOD. And it’s HARD. Because what she’s learning from us now is going to shape her into the person she will always be. And now we’re ready for it, and we’re learning something new every day. And we’re LOVING it. And while everyday presents a new obstacle, and also tests my confidence in my mothering skills, it also holds a bazillion more moments where I just look at her and feel my heart surge with so much happiness and love. This is the best job ever.

Me versus the rocket

When I was younger, one of our favorite weekend-summer afternoon adventures was going to Moorehead Park. And since it was only about 20 minutes from the farm, we were pretty frequent visitors. Mom would usually pack a picnic lunch, we would take a short hike and then tire ourselves on the playground equipment. We were especially in love with the rocket. It was this gigantic, metal rocket that you could climb through and up to the top, and then slide down. And when I was home last week, Libba and I decided to introduce Taylor to the coolest playground apparatus of all time.

But the rocket wasn’t so cool this time around. In fact, it was down-right mean. And I know that equipment like this isn’t meant for giant adults to play in, but, come on, I wasn’t gonna let baby T go up solo.

You can’t see it in this photo, but right about here was when I hit my head so hard against the upper landing the entire rocket shook. And a stream of non-appropriate blogger language followed. Which resulted in a mother-daughter melt down and Taylor screaming, screaming, screaming until she got out of the rocket.

And after taking a moment to nurse my concussion, we realized that the only way to get down from the rocket is to take the slide.

Which, of course, soothed Taylor’s nerves. What can I say, my girl LOVES slides.

I, on the other hand, had a nasty headache and a bit of a complex against my old child hood friend.

Stupid rocket.

Back to city life

The Famous Amys traveling band returned to Asheville on Saturday evening, and it feels good to be home. Mostly because we now have Chris back with us. And if you could have seen the Taylor-Chris reunion in the Atlanta airport, you would have thought we were filming a scene for a Hallmark movie. As soon as T saw her Dad walking towards us, she went running through the concourse, jumped in his arms and bear-hugged him for about 15 minutes. Absolutely PRECIOUS.

And, once again, my daughter proved that she is, in fact, a jet-setting toddler. And while her airport-behavior was less than desirable, she was amazing on both flights. To which I rewarded her when we got back with her very own baby-stroller and new doll.

So, Lillian, I guess this means when you come visit us in Asheville, you won’t have to worry about the baby stealing your toys. Or maybe you will. But I promise to have lots and lots of iced animal cookies for you.

And now that I am completely unpacked, have our clothes clean and the cupboards stocked, I can sit back and reflect on how wonderful our trip to the farm really was. Being there for eight nights not only allowed me enough time to see everyone I wanted to see, but it let Taylor become completely comfortable with my parents and sister, and by the end she was stomping around the farm like she owned it.

Not only did she enjoy having more space than she’s ever had to run and play, but she also had first-time run ins with both my parents’ farm cats and, from the sidelines, the bulls in the pasture. Neither of which she was too hot about at first. But by the third day she was stampeding after the kitties, only to be disappointed that they would run madly away from her. Which I can’t blame them. They were half-wild to begin with, and then this gigantic toddler shows up, stomping after them, screaming KITTY! I’d run away too.

And I proved to have raised a city-baby when the first time I showed her the bulls and asked her, What’s the cow say? And she responded, Mwah. Mwah. My Dad almost fell over. And after some serious practice, we finally had our little urban girl yelling MOO to our livestock by the middle of the week.

We also got to see the beginning stages of my parents’ new pond, appropriately dubbed Taylor Lake. It was dug in July, and won’t be completely full until next spring, but just to see it rise a little bit every day was awesome. I can’t wait until next summer when it’s namesake will be able to swim off the dock, make sand castles on the beach and fish to her heart’s content from the shore.

And while the scenery was heavenly, the best part of the whole trip was being able to spend time with my family and friends. And watching Taylor interact with her Papa Don, Ya-Ya and Aunt Beeba made my heart smile.

It was a truly wonderful trip back home, marked somewhat by the tons and tons of pictures my sister and I took. Which, no surprise, the majority of the images were of Taylor. But, come on. If your daughter-granddaughter-niece was THIS cute, you’d take lots of pictures of her too.

Bloggerpalooza 2009 from the sidelines

Last night Libba and I hosted a blogger reunion of sorts at the farm, and if you want to look at some of the wonderful moments my super-talented sister captured at the party, click here.

Wonder where I am in these? Oh, I was following my daughter around trying to prevent nuclear melt-downs all night. Because Taylor was being a bit, how shall I describe it, NAUGHTY. Enough to the point that Meghann's two and a half year old, Lilly, looked right at me and said, I'm NOT playing with that baby anymore. And I was all, Really, Lilly, I don't blame you. Because everything that Lilly touched - EVERYTHING! - Taylor would run over to, yell NO! and grab away from her. Even if it was Lilly's toy. Totally unacceptable behavior for a margarita party.

So while everyone else was strolling down memory lane and giving baby Luke squeezes, I was soothing emotional come-aparts of one very cranky toddler.

But at the end of the night, Taylor and Lilly decided to let bygones be bygones, and Miss Lilly even helped me give T her bath. Super sweet. And while I wish I could have spent more time chatting with all of you bloggers, thanks for showing your beautiful faces and sharing some tequila. I can't wait to see you all again next year!

We are fam-ah-lee

My sister and her absolutely gorgeous engagement ring arrived from Birmingham today. Which means that all pictures from here on out are going to be completely amazing and I'm going to be drinking enough wine to fuel a small empire. And, of course, Taylor's gonna get some super special attention from her godmother.