Oh, brother!  I mean, sister!  We can’t help spoiling her already.  While the kids were in school this morning, some moms came over to my house for a Pink Party.  (None of those hand-me-downs have enough fluff or sparkle to them!)

The “cake”:

The spread:

The Honoree:

The guests:

The quilt:

The decor:

“It’s a marathon,” she told me.

OH.

Well, how was I supposed to know?  I wasn’t a runner, and athlete, of any kind.  The most I did was try to kill myself in Wendy’s power lift class at the Y, or mosey along for a while on the eliptical.   (I’ll be honest:  I needed the free daycare more than I cared about any workout.)  At some point my friend Kristina (who had run a marathon!) suggested we run a race of some kind.  I don’t really remember what it was… maybe the zoo 5K?  I entertained the idea for a couple of days before deciding getting pregnant (again) would be less excruciating.

Pregnant.  A great excuse to be a sloth.

So as to keep this novel short(er), I’ll fast-forward a few years to a different city, another baby, and more sloth.

This city?  Runners.  EVERYWHERE.  It’s what people do here.  (Weird, I know.)

Dan joined the local running club (he’s always been a runner) and last year ran his first half-marathon.  I was impressed, but not so impressed that I was going to brave the elements and the children to cheer him on or anything.  (Yes, yes.  Wife of the year here.)

Several of the moms I’m friends with are also runners.  They’d pull up in their vans with their 13.1 stickers and then chat in the parking lot about their running and their races.  “You should join us!” They’d tell me.  “We run at 5:30, before anyone is up.” 

?!?

I was starting to think I needed other friends.  I mean, who the hell gets up at o’dark thirty to RUN?

Then, around Christmastime, Dan and I went to a running club Christmas party.  I was a fish out of water, but it was at my friend Anne’s house (one of the 5:30 a.m. crazies), and I liked having an excuse to get a babysitter and get out of the house for a few hours with Dan.  Plus, despite what you might think, runners like beer.

During the party, Anne and I snuck off to chat and somewhere in that chat was mention of The Shamrock Shuffle.  An 8K race in downtown Chicago.  “There are a bunch of us doing it,” she told me.  “You should do it, too.  It’s really fun.”

Well, I must have been over-served that night, ’cause I actually gave it a three-second thought.  And then, of course, dismissed it.

But, every time I saw one of these crazies ladies, they’d mention the race and what fun it was going to be.  They were sure I could do it.  They could give me a training program.  I should just try.  No one would care if I just walked.  Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Well, one night I was drinking a beer with Dan and talking about it with him.  I looked the race up on the web and checked out the registration information.  “Do it,” he told me.  “Sign up!”

And, I caved.  I figured I could try the training and if I hated it, I’d just back out of the race.

But, I didn’t back out.  I trained by myself on a treadmill (this Texas chick hates the cold), at a reasonable hour of the morning (this chick also loves sleeping), at the Y (every treadmill has a TV).  And, before I knew it, there were a bunch of us headed to the city at o’dark thirty, to run some crazy race.

It was a BLAST.

After that race, I kept running.  But, instead of on the treadmill, I ran with the crazies, VERY early in the morning, cold or not.  And that’s where they really got me.

“You should run the half with us,” they said.

“Hahahahahahahahaha,” I said.

“No, really.  We did it last year and we’re going to do it again this year.  It’s really not that hard.”

Something must happen to your brain when you run, because eventually, I found myself saying yes.  Me.  Running 13.1 miles.  When, in March I’d run the first mile I’d run in… 10 years?

As far as training, I ran when my friends did, as far as they did.  I listened to their tips on running, stretching, reading and eating.

And then, suddenly, it was time for the Chicago Half Marathon.

I was looking forward to it, not so much for the race (which had me nervous) but for the fancy accommodations and girl-time.  Becky (the other crazy)’s cousin has a fancy condo in a downtown high-rise and was letting us have it for the night before the race.  So, on Saturday, we left the kids with the hubbies and drove to the city.  We visited the expo, where we picked up our race packets and bought some “must-have” paraphernalia, and then lounged around the condo waiting for the rest of our group to join us.  (There were 6 of us.)  Once they arrived, we all made dinner, enjoyed a glass of wine, indulged in cake pops and cookies, and watched a movie.

View from the kick-ass accommodations

Mmmmmm. Cake pops!

We were up at 4 the next morning and on the train, headed for the race, by 5:30.

It was GREAT.  So many people, so much energy.  Music, signs, team shirts…

The race started at 7, and for me, it was all over 2 hours, 19 minutes and 15 seconds later.

Me.  The non-runner.  The non-early riser.

I think I have a new addiction.  Already, I’m signed up for a 10K in October, a 15K in November, and my favorite, another half marathon in December.

That half will be in Dallas, where my best friends from high school are getting together to run, walk or cheer.  It’ll be a great run, but a better reunion!  Michelle (one of the group) is currently recovering from extensive surgery, but will be out running and training again soon.  Running that half will be a huge victory.

Crazy.

It looks good, don’tcha think?

Jack helped clean.  Maria watched TV.  Luke and Sam fought over the Wii.  And then there was Andrew.  Clearly needing something to do.

So, I put him in charge of the water… taking the bottles from the package and putting them into the cooler.

Two steps forward, one step back.  But, he was occupied, which let me get other things done.

Yes, we just did this last year with Jack.  But, girls are soooooooo different!  I mean, they have to have the dress.  And the vail.  And get manis and pedis and updos with their friends.

Along with Grandma, Grandpa, aunts, an uncle and several cousins, Maria’s wonderful Godmother, Julie, was able to come help us celebrate.

I remember that Jack had been excited, but not nervous in the least.  Maria, however, was nervous.

“What if I mess up?” she asked me.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”  I asked back.

“Well… I could trip.  I could fall.  I could drop the Host.”

Okaaaaaayyyyyy….

Of course, none of those things happened.  She was beautiful and it all went perfectly.

10 Days.  3,703 miles.

We survived.  ALL of us.  And, we had fun!!!  Seriously.  I only considered homicide once.  In the hotel in North Platte, NE.  It was our first night away from home, first night in an unfamiliar location.  We were halfway to our destination.  The kids were wound up, to say the least, despite a late-night swim in an effort to wear them out.  But, after much threatening, yelling, stomping, snickering, pushing, changing beds and rearranging bodies, we made it through the night.

We arrived in Salt Lake the following day and our very shy gregarious children met up calmly with some of their cousins and went berserk with them on the playground.

After a wonderful dinner, prepared by Chef Kevin, we headed to Ogden, UT where we were presented with luxurious accommodations, compliments of brother No. #2.  An unlimited supply of Diet Dr. Pepper, Blue Moon and a shower to die for.  (I almost didn’t make it home.)

The kids went on a hike with Dad and uncle while the baby and I stayed back.  Jack came home disappointed that he didn’t quite reach his goal, but not to worry!  Uncle John took him out again and without siblings to slow them down, they made it.

Saturday afternoon, we headed into the mountains for a cookout at Brother #2′s friend’s cabin.  Shrimp, prime rib, beer, soda, raspberry cobbler and popcorn.  Mmmmmm!  Those Garcia’s sure treated us well.  Not only did they provide food and drink, but there was plenty of entertainment for the kids – BB guns, other kids, a creek, and s’mores.  Lukie woke me the next morning begging to go back.

On another day, as you know from this post, we floated down a river with Brothers #2 and #4 (and family).

Another day found us at Thanksgiving Point where everyone got to ride a pony.

On Tuesday night, we celebrated Dan’s FORTIETH birthday (don’t worry – you didn’t miss it.  It’s not actually until September, but we had to celebrate with family while we could.)  We went here, where we were treated like royalty.  Really.  Brother #1 knows how to throw a party!  We’ve never been wined and dined like that before.  (The kids stayed home with an awesome babysitter, thanks Brother #2′s girlfriend.  She fed Andrew his very first bottle, which made me a little sad…  Until I was out in a fine restaurant with other adults, anyway.)

We visited the Children’s museum on Wednesday where the kids all had the most fun in the construction zone.

On Thursday, we headed back toward Chicagoland via Denver, and stayed a night with my wonderful friend, Joan, whom I’ve known since sixth grade, but hadn’t seen in 10 years.  She may very well be my oldest friend.  When Maria found out how long we’d known each other, she thought that was soooooo cool.  She told me she hoped she and her classmate, Lucy, would stay friends that long.  After a long night of reminiscing (and drinking) we said goodbye and headed out to breakfast with another friend of mine – Julie, from high school.  The visit was great, but way too short.

Rather than drive the whole 16 hours, we chose to stop over in Omaha for the night.  We enjoyed a late night swim and some pizza, before catching some zzzzz’s.  The kids were MUCH better this time around.  Guess we figured out the formula.

The next morning we had breakfast with Grandpa’s cousin before making our way back home.  (Yes, we know people everywhere!)

Our arrival home was was bittersweet, as the kids were teary-eyed because they missed their cousins, but were also happy to be back in their own beds.

Cheerio was happy to see us, and when he saw her, Luke was sure he’d grown.  He even wanted me to measure him.  Nope, he hadn’t grown.  It was just that Cheerio looked much smaller in comparison to Uncle John’s labs!

Speaking of Cheerio, our dear dog-sitting neighbor left us a note.  Earlier in the day, Cheerio discovered a bunny nest under the pumpkin leaves in our backyard.  Before it could be prevented, she had a little snack, so our neighbor called the vet.  Yep, Cheerio would be fine.  Wish we could say the same about the bunny!  EWWWWWWW!

At first, I was disappointed that none of our family members could make it here for the baptism of our fifth child.

Then, I realized, our family did make it!

The Remicks were able to come a few days early, so we managed to spend some quality time together.

Bergen and Luke

Jack and Keegan

Maria and Zoe

Carsten and Andrew

Sam and Bergen

Luke was not left out. He's behind the pillar.

(More pictures can be seen by clicking the Flickr badge in the left hand column of this page.)

We are so thankful to have such wonderful friends and that they were able to make the long trip to be with us.  Kyle, Troy, Keegan, Bergen, Carsten, Zoë – we miss you already!!!

We’ve really had a great time hosting visitors this summer.  We have plenty of room, so if you haven’t yet, call today for a reservation!

Playing

Best buds!

Secondly, my poor baby had to get THREE shots today.  He was M-A-D, but his brother Luke was there to soothe him.  Oh, and for those keeping track, we’re up to 12 pounds, 11 ounces and 23 inches long.  Also, his head circumference is only in the 30th percentile – normal for him, but tiny for an H baby!!!

Finally, what is it with boys and guns?  EVERYthing can be made into a gun when you’re a boy – sandwiches, Lego, blocks, tape – you name it.  Jack started a little later with this, as he didn’t have older brothers and Star Wars yet to influence him.  Luke picked it up quicker with Jack in the lead and Sam even earlier.  But, who’da thought Andrew would be holding a gun at 2 months?!?  (Created by and placed in his brother’s hand by Luke Henry.)  (And, no, he wasn’t shot in the forehead… he just scratched himself earlier today.  Almost looks like a crime scene photo, though, doesn’t it?)

Baby's First Gun

Boys and their Toys*

*The one to the far left is not mine, in case you’re wondering, but he might as well be

It was odd, going from winter to summer in just a few hours.  The climate was wonderful – warm and balmy and breezy.  And the view from the house was incredible – the water came right up to the back of the house.  The view inside the house, though, topped everything, as this was where Savannah Grace spent most of her time.

Maria had a blast with her good friends Riley and Max and loved doting on Savannah.  I mentioned to her that she’ll love having a baby brother, too, and she agreed, but also informed me that “girls are better than boys.”

I was so happy to have some time with one of my favorite people (Kristina!) and her family.  Everyone was very entertaining and the food was heavenly for a pregnant woman!

Baptised!

Godsisters

Not only did we have a great time, but I came home to uninjured boys, an exhausted but happy husband, a clean house and virtually no laundry!

On the other hand, as the holidays draw to a close, so, hopefully, does The Ugly Beard Contest.  “I hate it,” Jack told me, of Dan’s new… ummmm… growth.  “So do I,” I told him.  “I think he has a really good chance of winning,” Jack said.

Ummmm… yes.  If Dan doesn’t win, I can’t imagine who will.  I love him tremendously, but God did not make my husband for growing facial hair.  It took several days before you could even tell he hadn’t been shaving and now, after a week, it just looks like his face is really dirty.  I’d love to post a pic, but I doubt he’d be willing to pose for me.  Maybe I can sneak up on him during a nap.

Christmas was wonderful, as were the days following, as our wonderful friends, the Remicks, came to visit.  It was the first time I’d seen my Goddaughter since her baptism last year.  She’s a dream.  Soooo cute and soooooo happy all the time!

The visit was too short, but we were only a stop on their way to North Dakota.  We were lucky to have them for a day and night!  The way the kids got along, you’d never have thought we’d moved away.  It was great!  The house felt quiet and empty the moment they pulled away.

The ornaments are packed away now and all the gifts are strewn about the house.  We’re looking forward to seeing some family for New Year’s and, come Monday, we’ll be back in The Routine.

Unfortunately, we ran a little late (go figure) on our trip down to rural Missouri.  Fortunately, though, this meant that the kids missed seeing the pig before it was dissembled.  Still, Jack was the only one to eat any.  The others all chose hotdogs.  Go figure.

But, the pig roast is not just about the pig.  It’s really not about the pig at all, as a matter of fact.  Not for us.  It’s about an excuse to visit great friends.  Despite having moved away five years ago, we’ve managed to go back almost every year.  And, each time we do, it’s as if we’d never left.  All our friends are still there and treat us as if we still one of them.  As a matter of fact, depending on how much beer is consumed, some forget we ever left.

While there, we also got a special tour of the nearby Squirrel and ??? winery.  Dan stocked up and Jack learned a few steps in the wine-making process.  I stayed away from the fermenting barrel, as I didn’t want to hurt the baby.  (Just the smell of that stuff will put hair on your chest for sure.)

Maria and Luke sat in the van, on the verge of sleep.  After the tour, we headed back over to the party for another hour or so.  Despite the late hour, we didn’t want to leave.  Luke finally asked if he could go sit in the van, where we found him a few minutes later fast asleep.  Our cue to head to the hotel.  We lost two more to sleep on the way.  You’d think that would mean a quiet night in store for us all.

Nope.

At the excitement of staying in a hotel, the kids were quickly WIDE AWAKE.  Dan, however, was not.  As I got the kids ready for bed (as fast as humanly possible), Dan crashed on one of the beds and immediately began snoring.  Which, of course, the kids thought hilarious.  Which made for a looooooonnnnngggg night.

After fighting about who was sleeping where (not a lot of choices in a single room), imitating Dad’s snoring, giggling, a snorting contest, and then some crying, the kids finally fell asleep.  And, so did I.

After the long drive south and quick turn around, we’re happy to be back home.  But, already we’re looking forward to next year.

Good friends.  Good beer.  Good food.  Good fun.