Social Media

I recently joined twitter. Now, if you're thinking, "Gosh, I need to follow Audrey", which I'm sure all of you are...let me just say this...there is no one more boring on twitter than yours truly. Save your time.  I currently have four followers (without a clue who two of them are), and to date I've "tweeted" seven times (four of those tweets done by my one year old). Did you know that Kim Kardashain has over 11,000,000 followers?! Don't worry, I'm not one of them, but I hardly think anyone is THAT interesting!  The truth is I've never seen the point of twitter if you're on Facebook.  It's basically the same thing right? As it is, I already have a somewhat love hate relationship with Facebook.  There are things about it that are good. It allows people to stay involved and share life with friends and family that live far away.  I love that I've reconnected with family I haven't seen in years, gotten to talk to friends I haven't spoken to since we left Mexico, caught up with high school friends, etc. However, I feel there is a negative side to Facebook as well.  I find it gives people the tendency to portray their lives in a distorted way.  It's so easy to post a certain status or photo to draw attention and get those  "5 minutes of fame". News feeds are chock-full of perfect kids, perfect weddings, perfect marriages, perfect vacations...perfect lives. Why? That's so far from reality. I've seen Facebook connect people in good ways sure, but I've also seen it hurt relationships and break up friendships. It has a way of tapping into people's insecurities and making it seem like the grass is always greener on the other side.  It's hard to find a balance of sharing life with family and friends and not succumbing to the artificiality of it all.

So no denying I was reluctant to add yet another social media with twitter. But a good friend of mine joined twitter right about the time the Boston Marathon bombings occurred. She was using twitter as a way to stay up to date on current events. That's what sold me on the idea.  I'm not one to watch the news or read the paper. I enjoy doing both, but it rarely happens.  So I made the jump, and admittedly really like it.  I have a few friends I follow, but most of my feed is filled with local and world wide news. Wow! It's true what they say, "ignorance is bliss".  Twitter for me is like the opposite of Facebook. It's nothing but real life...and real life is scary.  It can be heavy reading about kidnapped children, collapsed buildings, and current events in Syria all the time. It seems like there's always some sort of "death count". Have you guys been following the coverage on the Gosnell trial? Sickening! We live in such a fallen and terrifying world! I'm always thankful to find some comedic relief in Jim Gaffigan's tweets.  He's a good one to follow if you need a good laugh from time to time.

So we definitely live in the age of social media, and if I'm going to participate I'll have to accept the disadvantages right along with the benefits. If I've learned anything, it's this...

• I waste too much time on Facebook and Twitter.
• I like genuine.
• I hate fake.
• We live in a small world...wow! I have mutual friends with people all over the world.
• Depth in friendships can only occur when we are vulnerable and admit our own short comings, not by only posting/seeing the good parts.
• There is always a different truth behind the mislead perfection.
• I'm grateful I get to participate in the lives of far away friends/family and watch them become parents to beautiful babies (some that I may never get to meet).
• My kids are definitely cuter than yours.

Hahahahaha!! That last one was just to mess with you.  

A Proposition

Last November I ran the Philly marathon with my sister.  Best marathon experience yet! The race in itself was worth the trip, not to mention I got to train/run with my sister, visit one of my greatest friends, eat lots of delicious food, and set a new (the cherry on top)... PR! No question I was elated after crossing the finish line. Before Philly, I had never included speed work in marathon training, the point was just to finish.  Thankfully, those months of hard work paid off and I was able to accomplish what I set out to do.  I have to give most of the credit to my brother-in-law extraordinaire for coaching me, and to my awesome sister for keeping me motivated (always running in front was your way of doing that I guess hahaha). I walked away from that race with a whole new level of determination.  You marathoners out there know what I'm talking about...to qualifying for Boston!

Well, reality has set in. Maybe it's the dark mornings, cold weather, training alone...or maybe it's that I just don't have the ability to do it.  Maybe my legs are too short, I don't know.

I'm turning (a # I'm not ready to type out) next year, and I thought training to qualify would be a fun goal to try and accomplish before then. Now that I'm not so sure I can do it, I've decided to change my plans a bit. There is a certain marathon I've been thinking about running, one that I've never wanted to do before, one that would definitely qualify as a "challenge" before I turn (a # I'm not ready to type). But there's only one way I could fully commit to it...and that's if my running coach also commits to training for it. Yes Brett, you know which one I'm talking about... Heart of America.

Now before you rush to say no...I have already talked to a certain friend of yours (his name starts with D and rhymes with Male), and he too said he could commit if you did. I can think of a handful of other people who would rise to the challenge as well. So what do you say? I'll tell you what I think. I think you need to reunite your Lunatics!

I realize I'm putting you on the spot by bringing this up through a blog post. I'm hoping it puts a little extra pressure on you and makes it harder to say no :)

Think about it...but not too long.  We need to start training!

Not an everyday run...

Alright so it's been almost a full year since I last blogged.  I've actually written a lot over the last year, but haven't "published" any of my posts. Most blogs I follow are written by interesting people who write about their travels, their journeys of weight loss, their thoughts (usually educated thoughts) on different issues, their struggles/successes with parenting, or they are just down right funny and excellent writers.  When I first decided to blog, I had no idea what direction to go in (I still don't) so I lost all motivation. However, one of my new year's resolutions (I made 13 for 2013) is to write more, so even if it's just for a year, I'm doing it.  I don't pretend to be a writer, and I most definitely will make a ton of grammatical errors (English teachers be ware), but I honestly really enjoy it. So read if you wish, but don't expect anything too profound.

So this morning....

I got ready for my morning run like normal. Being that it was 17 degrees outside, I put on a couple of extra layers, grabbed my Garmin, grabbed my Mace, and was out the door by 5:50.  Why Mace you ask?  Well I'll tell you...

Getting out so early in the morning means most of my runs are in the dark, especially in the winter. I've never been too concerned with my safety since I'm usually on busy streets with plenty of street lights, not to mention I live in Columbia MO where the crime rate is pretty low. However, bad things happen even in Columbia, so my good friend Brenda bought me some Mace a few months back. I read the instructions...test before using, wash immediately if it comes in contact with skin, discard after three months, etc... This morning I decided to test it out again to make sure it still worked...it didn't.  Instead of spraying out like it should, it dripped everywhere drenching most of my right hand.  So just like the instructions said, I discarded it. Thinking nothing of it, I wiped off my hand, put my gloves on, and headed out for my run. Oh if I had just remembered to WASH my hands!  I didn't feel anything until I was half mile away from being done with my run. That's when the I first noticed the tingling.  Thankfully taking my glove off and exposing my hand to the cold air made it go away.  I got home, immediately threw my gloves in the washing machine and washed my hands.  It was too late.  As my hands warmed up by being indoors, the burning on my knuckles became more noticeable. I tried to ignore it. Still feeling chilled from being outside, I jumped in a hot shower (usually the most glorious thing ever).  Oh my gosh!! My hand couldn't even come close to touching warm water. Scalding! From then on the burning just got worse and worse. I spent the next few hours running cool water over my hand to get relief. Three hours later, the burning was gone.  It's comforting to know Mace actually works. I have no doubt it would deter an assailant. I can't imagine how painful it would be to have that stuff in your eyes!

So thanks Brenda :) I dedicate this post to you.   I'll be buying more...I'll be smarter next time. 

Leap Year

Someone asked me at church last Sunday how old I was. Without hesitation I said 24. I was so embarrassed when I had to correct myself and say, "actually no, that's wrong...I'm turning 28 at the end of this month". We both got a good laugh out of it.

I don't particularly like birthdays. I haven't enjoyed them since I ran out of all the "fun" ones. For me those have included...

• 10- I was so excited to get into the double digits. It felt "older".
• 13- Finally a teenager!
• 16- Duh...DRIVERS LICENSE!
• 18- I became an "adult"... what's not to get excited about?
  
• 20- So excited to be out of my teens!
  
• 21-Need I even explain?
• 22- Somewhere along the way I got it in my head that I was going to get married at the age of 22...and sure enough I was engaged and planning my wedding.
  

My 23rd birthday was when it all went down hill. Nothing particularly bad happened, but that's when it finally occurred to me that I had no more birthdays to look forward to. Yes, I realize anyone reading this is probably rolling their eyes right about now...but it really did hit me hard. Since then, I don't particularly like thinking about the fact that I'm getting older. My family and friends really do go out of their way to make me feel extra special on my birthday, which I really do appreciate, but I always hate the next day when I officially have to start saying that I'm one year older. This year it's 28...which is just weird to me since I obviously still think I'm 24.

Thankfully, there is one redeeming factor about this birthday. I actually have one! Being that I was born on leap year (February 29th), I only get a birthday once every four years. In case you don't know why we even have "leap year", I'll explain it. Leap year is necessary to keep our calendar accurate. It technically takes the earth 365.242199 days to orbit the sun once (one year), yet our calendar only has 365 days. So without adding the extra day every 4 years, we would lose 6 hours a year. That may not seem like such a big deal, but after about 100 years, our calendar would be off by 24 days. Interesting huh?

The first question everyone always asks as soon as they find out I'm a Leap Year baby is: So when do you celebrate when there's no 29th?

• I've always liked celebrating on the 28th because it's still in February which is "my" month. But I'll be honest, I've gotten in the habit of celebrating on the 28th and the 1st :)

Second questions is always: So how old are you really?

• Well...this year I'm turning 7!

Most people will comment something like, "it must be so weird to not have a birthday every year". Ha! It's actually not that bad. When I actually do have a birthday, it typically results in a "extra special" celebration, which means I can honestly say I'm able to remember every "actual" birthday I've ever had in detail...besides birth of course.

So here I am again, about to have a birthday... I'll try and ignore the fact that I'm only two year away from 30 and make it another memorable birthday...

Here's to turning 7!!

I'm The Favorite

A little over 13 years ago I became an aunt. I remember how strange it was for me the first time I met Serai as a newborn. She was so beautiful, and although she was still a stranger to me, she somehow perfectly belonged in the family. I lived in a different city at the time, so I didn't get to see her as often as I would have liked. We would always have to get through a 10 minute "get to know eachother again" phase when she came to visit, but after that...she was mine. Elly didn't see much of her while I was around. I was in love. After Serai came Marek, Silas, and Ariya, and I have loved each one of them more than they will ever realize. It used to irritated me when people would say, "just wait until you have your own kids". I just wanted to yell, "I DO love them like my own!!". I would ache to see them if multiple days went by without me getting to hold them, and I would secretly jump for joy when people said Ariya looked just like me and could be mine.
Two years ago I became a mom, and that baby girl helped put things in perspective. I get it...I now understand why people say, "just wait until you have your own kids". I still maintain that I love my nieces and nephews as much as my own kids. I was right about that. But yes, there is a difference. No matter how strong the love of an aunt is, that love just isn't reciprocated. At the end of the day, they will always prefer their own mommy. That's one of the things that makes being a mom so special. Kids want their mommies when they're sick, when they want to be held, when they are getting tucked into bed or waking up in the middle of the night scared (or just thirsty), and when they are just so happy that they want to give random hugs...I love that I now play that role in the lives of my two sweet kiddos.

I realize my kids will need me less and less as they get older, and probably won't fully understand how much I love them until they have kids of their own, but for now I'm relishing the fact that I'm their favorite. Being a mom is hard sometimes. It can be physically exhausting as well as mentally draining. It sometimes feels like I live in a constant emotional whirlwind of mourning the passing of phases, enjoying the present, and anticipating the future. Most days I breath a sigh of relief once the days is done and they are tucked in bed, yet I go to bed and can't wait until tomorrow when I can be their mom all over again.

As much as I love my nieces and nephews, it no longer upsets me if they stretch out their arms for their mom when I'm holding them, want to go home after spending the day with me, or don't want to sit with me during church. I get it. They don't just love her, they need her. She's their favorite.

Running

I like to think I'm a "jack of all trades". Not because I think I'm good at everything, that would just make me a snob, it's because I don't really excel at any one thing. The truth is, I'm just mediocre at lots of things, cooking, singing, writing, etc. I much prefer the way "jack of all trades" sounds over "mediocre". Don't you?

Running happens to be one of those things that falls in the mediocre category. Believe me, if I could be great at running I would definitely strive for that, but it's just not in my genes. At the moment, I'm working on increasing my speed thanks to a good friend who has agreed to help me train (she just so happens to be an Olympic caliber runner). I've never really done speed work, and so far I'm loving it. It's fun to run and feel myself getting faster. I'm not in denial however. I fully realize that I'll eventually reach my max speed and still never come close to winning any sort of race. When I first began running 7 years ago, it seemed everyone could run faster than me...and nothing bothered me more. So my pride kicked in and I refused to even attempt to run fast. Instead, I focused on long distances. By golly, if I couldn't go fast, I was going to go long! Yes, you can say I'm somewhat competitive. Thankfully, my whole outlook on running has since changed. I run because I love it and because it is now part of my life style. I still get competitive, yes, but not to the point that it dictates how I feel about running.

I've been called crazy for running at the hours that I run. I tend to prefer mornings, and since David has to be at work by 7:00, I have to be done with my run and home by 6:45. I really don't mind though. It can get a little harder to drag myself out of bed during the winter, but for the most part, even when I have the option to run later in the day, I'll still get up and run early.

It's not just about going out and burning calories or building muscle. As cliche as it might sound, it's about the whole experience. Over the years I've been able to developed some amazing friendships with different running partners. I've been amazed at God's creation as I watched the sun rise on those early morning runs. I've ran while crying tears of joy and tears of frustration. I've felt the adrenaline rush of starting a race and the sense of accomplishment from crossing the finish line. I've spent an entire run praying for certain friends, and then receiving news that those prayers were answered. I've even experienced what it's like to run with a baby growing in my stomach, and going out during early stages of labor (some experiences are more pleasant than others). I've also become a pro at peeing in secluded bushes because no bathrooms are around during long runs. Ha! Running is a stress reliever for me, and a chance to have some "me" time before I spend the rest of the day taking care of my two sweet kiddos.

It's true that there's somewhat of a sub culture in running. We "runners" can get carried away talking (sometimes bragging) about our times, distances, or current injuries, but it can be more than that. I definitely love the challenge of training for races and having to exert myself physically, but take all of that away, and it's still my favorite way to spend my mornings.
And being able to eat a few extra calories a day isn't too bad either :)

Crooked Christmas Tree

Our Christmas tree this year has some issues. We got it last week right before going out to dinner for date night. We had a lot going on that evening, but I was adamant about getting the tree that night too. We were in a hurry so I'm not exaggerating when I say we picked it out in less than 5 minutes. We saw it, it looked good, we bought it.
Unfortunately it didn't look so good once we put it up. We bought a crooked tree!
David tried various things to get it look straight, but it just wasn't going to happen. So we left it as is. Besides the one flaw of looking like it's going to fall over any second, it really is a beautiful tree. Even more so with lights and ornaments.

This Christmas tree says a lot about me these days. For as long as I can remember, I've been a perfectionist. Just a few years ago, I never would have left a crooked tree up in my living room. I would have taken it down with tears of frustration, or I would have left it up, but made sure everyone who saw it knew that I had tried everything in my power to make it look right. Somehow I felt it reflected badly on me if things weren't just right. Remember how I wrote about ripping out the entire page in my journal because of one mistake? Well, that was my approach to almost everything....perfect or not at all. I tell you what, living like that is exhausting!
I still make some rash decisions and occasionally throw in the towel when things aren't perfect, but I know for a fact I've mellowed out some over the years. Our Christmas tree is proof of that.