How Sweet It Is

Dear Son,

You turned sixteen weeks ago. Of course, this entry was supposed to be fully written to go live on your actual birthday - but life has a way of sneaking up on me anymore. So, there’s that.

Having teenagers is nuts, but not in the way that most people think it is. I have actually enjoyed this parenting stage as much as any other. That is not to say being a teenager doesn’t come with it’s own share of mini-dramas, but what stage in life doesn’t? When I say nuts, I’m talking about fever-pitch activities and the time management required for being a teenager nowadays.

I don’t think I would have graduated from school with the requirements you face. Throw social media into that mix, and it would have been a bad outcome. Maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit - although, admittedly, I did a lot of stupid shit - just ask Zaydee. Wait. On second thought, don’t ask your grandmother. She would gleefully dish out details you would never want to know about your mom.

You have lived your life around the presence of social media and the immediacy of having world-knowledge at your fingertips. I’m still tripping over the ability to see and talk to your sister remotely on FaceTime.

Anyway. All of this is to say that you are a champ. Obviously, I’m biased.

That jacket is sweet.

However, I’m not just talking about your incredible accomplishments as a musician, or your wickedly funny sense of humor. It’s bigger than that. Dad has described you as an old soul on more than one occasion. He’s completely right. You have a calm and a wisdom far beyond your 16 years. We aren’t a religious family, but I have always believed in karma and kindred spirits. From the moment I held you the first time, you were mine and I was yours. It was as simple as that. It could be how all parents feel about their children, but there is a connection between us so profound that I am overwhelmed by it.

Ew, right?? Not really. #sorrynotsorry

 Kauai 2012. You always have my heart. 

As one of the other parents from your jazz combo recently noted: you no longer sound like a rock drummer trying to play jazz. You have continued to develop your chops as a musician and have truly found your voice as a jazz drummer. There are few things that give me more joy than watching you play music.

Boys & Girls Club fundraiser, August 2015

You passed your written driving test and began driving a few weeks ago. While these milestones are sweet, it is the reminder of how quickly you’re growing up. Both your dad and I are always talking about it. Older people wax poetic about that kind of stuff all the time.

Sharp dressed man! Jazz Festival, March 2017

Year after next, you’ll begin applying to colleges. Although I’ve been through that with your sister, it’s not going to be any easier when you leave for college. Regardless, I have great faith in the man you are becoming. I know you’ll go out and do great things...because you already are great.

All my love,

Momma

TOL #2 Glamorous Life of Running

Hosted by Amanda at Running With Spoons, Thinking Out Loud is a weekly celebration of quirks and randomness! An opportunity to take the pressure and stress out of writing by sharing whatever it is that happens to pop into your mind when you begin to type. A collection of random and disjoined thoughts, just because. Here's mine:

 Dude. Just to get things rolling...and so you know who you're dealing with and where I'm coming from, there is nothing truer than this:

The first comment cracks me up?!

Unglamorous. Running is the farthest thing from being glamorous, despite the contrary title of my post. One of the reasons I like running is because there is no expensive gym membership or skill set required to become a runner.  

This week I tried getting out for a run with 'just the essentials'. I'm sure this list varies from runner to runner, but mine were: running shorts, sports bra, shirt, compression calf sleeves, anklet socks and shoes. Seems basic enough, right? That's what I thought until my monkey mind started in:

'You better bring some Glide...don't want to chafe...'

'It's 80 degrees and you're already dehydrated. You should grab some coconut water.'

'The dogs need to get out. You should bring them, too. And their leashes, water and bowl...some poop bags...'

I swear that I go through these mental gymnastics over any decision I make, but particularly moreso with running. I feel like if I'm better prepared for any possible scenario, then I'm that much more likely to have an optimum experience. Going for a run with 'just the essentials' was an exercise (if you'll excuse the pun) in letting some of that go. I didn't even bring my phone, which is a huge win in that regard. Since I had errands afterward and the heat was a factor, I left the dogs at home and settled for two out of the three. 

By the end of my run, I was a sweaty mess. I had disgusting gooey strings of saliva on my lips (seriously, what gives with that??), dirt and sunscreen in the creases of my inner arm, and despite the liberal application of Glide, I chafed anyway. ALL THE GLAMOUR. 

All that glamour. All of it.

Food finds. I do most of my shopping at Trader Joe's. Their produce isn't that great, so I usually pick up fresh fruits and veggies during the week. Last week I discovered their dried orange slices. Dude! They have a boatload of sugar, but I don't even care because they taste like my childhood. [I legit went to grade school with a girl named Krishna. Her mom was a beautiful hippy, and she made us candied orange peels almost every time I came over to their tiny house trailer.]    

Look at those shimmery crystals of sugar.
I'm in nostalgia nirvana.

My second find was their sweet pickled jalapenos. The peppers are brined in a sugar and vinegar solution, and I seriously can't get enough of them. TJs has a reputation for suddenly discontinuing items without notice, so I may or may not have bought three jars the last time I was at the store, like some sort of crazy jalapeno hoarder. They're incredible on sandwiches and they were prominently featured last night in a layered taco salad. I'm going to try them on pizza next.

Hello beautiful! The sweetness masks some of the heat
creating a match made in culinary heaven.

Yes please. 

I'll end my post with a small tangent: the BlogGo app totally blows. I typed this post yesterday on my phone through the app, and it lost two-thirds of what I wrote. This is where I'd insert both the streaming tears and angry face emoji...but since I'm not on my phone, I'm severely limited to a colon and parenthesis :(

Do you like spicy food? What are some new food finds you're stoked about?

Star Wars Half Marathon Recap

Last weekend I ran the Star Wars Half Marathon at Disneyland. Needless to say, given my love for all things Disney, running and Star Wars, this was truly a trifecta made in heaven.

Trifecta of awesomeness:
Running, Disney and Star Wars

Originally, I was supposed to run this race with three friends; one friend apparently registered but never received confirmation, and the other two decided that 13 miles isn't half of anything and was just too far to run. [Grammar nerd alert: I just used two, too and to all in the correct context within the same sentence...booyah!] 

A friend of mine since childhood, who is not a runner but shares my deep love of Disneyland, had planned her vacation around this event and we were going to share a hotel room in Anaheim. As we got closer to the holidays, it was apparent that she needed to use her vacation time to visit her aging father. We decided postpone visiting the Magic Kingdom together until the spring.

This left me in a serious quandary about trying to find accommodations three weeks before the race. My sister-in-law lives 20 minutes away from Disneyland, but she wasn't sure if they would be in town that weekend or not. I considered staying with my bestie who lives in Ventura the night before -- so I was at least a little closer to Los Angeles the day of the race -- but it still meant I would have to leave by 3:30am to make the 5:30am start time. It seemed foolish and impractical to drive in the middle of the night. 

This is where I got a little maudlin. None of my plans were panning out, and for a moment I considered scratching the race. 

Mind you, I said, 'for a moment...' Anyone who knows anything about Disney races knows this: they sell out hella quick and they are probably one of the most expensive races on the planet. Plus, if I was undertrained for my last half marathon in November, it paled in comparison to my training for this one: I hadn't run one day since then. 

Uh, oops. 

Running a half marathon untrained?
Arnold don't play.

It is stupid, Arnold. I can only rely on teaching spinning and past running experience for so much, and it's not like those miles stay in the proverbial fitness bank. It is a recipe for injury, and I should know better.

As luck would have it, my sister-in-law called me to say I was welcome to stay with them. I invited my niece and nephew to come with me to pick up my bib and they were completely onboard to check out the expo, which didn't disappoint. 

I had to snapchat this...because obviously.

Future 10k runners at next year's event!

This was probably one of my favorite photos of the
whole weekend: BB8 at the expo...and he was PISSED.

The force is so strong with these two :)
I adore being their aunt!

And of course, the obligatory Flat Babydoll the evening before to post on social media:

I thought I was clever in obscuring my race number
with a mini slot machine. I can't even believe
counterfeiting bibs is a thing. #lamesauce

I set my alarm for 3:30am to eat breakfast and give my body plenty of time to digest my food. I had brought a small tupperware filled with my tried-and-true oatmeal for race day. Believe me, one does not 'change up' the pre-race fuel unless you want to have it repeat on you over thirteen miles, or worse yet...frequent port-a-potty visits. 

Despite a lively discussion involving maps and where to park the night before, I decided to trust the wisdom that is Waze. While I can't say enough about this driving app (real time feedback with incredible graphics and directions), I am slowly learning that there is a difference between being impulsive and spontaneous - neither of which have their place in the predawn hours the morning of a race. Instead of following my brother-in-law's suggestion of how to get to the parking structure -- who patiently looked over the race book and used to work for Disney, for crying out loud -- I decided to enter the name of the parking structure right into Waze. 

Be ye not so stupid.

It steered me behind the structure and right into the employee parking entrance. You know, the one that requires a code to raise the arm to enter the parking lot? I had a small moment of panic that I would miss my race, but it wasn't going to be for lack of trying. I parked in a residential area and a hoofed it in the general vicinity of the Disneyland Hotel. A helpful volunteer at one of the crosswalks explained where I needed to be, 'It's a brisk 15 minute walk from here...' and I was off. This was at 5:35am.

The race officially begins at 5:30am, but because I'm not an elite runner -- we've already established that I hadn't trained for this race -- I was in the last corral. This was my third runDisney event; although I knew it was going to be close, I wasn't completely panicked because it takes a long time to release that many runners in waves. Fashionably late, I rolled in about 3 minutes before they released my corral:

Rolling in right before my corral is released.
It was actually kind of badass.

#represent

Me and Monstro. Storybook Land is my favorite ride in Fantasyland.

Another favorite: Pixar's Rex from Toy Story at California Adventure.

No, really: You da best.

I thought these droids were fixed to the ground, but I was wrong.
When C-3PO saw these two ladies dressed in gold,
he rushed over to them and mugged for a photograph. 

I need this window decal. 

Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren try to sway me to the Dark Side.

1970s Luke Skywalker

I heart R2D2

Best photobomb ever!

This dad carried his son on his shoulders
for at least a third of the race. So awesome!

Anyone who has done one of these races has heard about the notorious 'Balloon Ladies'; the 16-minute mile pacers who ensure the course is closed after four hours. Any runners caught behind them are 'swept' off the course and brought to the finish line. In the typical Disney grandeur, I envisioned princesses walking the course, wearing elaborate hoop skirts made from balloons; gracefully waving to the crowd and tapping on the shoulder of stragglers before being escorted off the course in Cinderella's pumpkin-shaped carriage. 

There goes my imagination getting away from me again.

Prior to the start of the race, I had seen a couple of young 20-something girls standing to the side of the course, each wearing a backpack with a single Mickey Mouse balloon tied to it. I didn't give it another thought, though. And at several points during the race, there were Disney race officials calling out times, 'Four minutes under pace. Keep it up!' 

Imagine my surprise when I dawdled too long mugging for photos along the course and the two young girls I saw at the beginning of the race came up behind my group shouting, 'YOU CAN DO THIS, EVERYONE. DON'T GET CAUGHT BEHIND US!!' I don't know if runners pulled from the course still receive a medal for their effort or not, but I selected this race specifically as my 20th half marathon and I wasn't taking any chances. The last picture I took on the course was, fittingly, of Darth Vader carrying is son on his shoulders. 

Next year, I'm hoping to run the 10k with my niece the day before the half marathon for a chance at earning a third medal. #rebelchallenge

My race review: Despite being my slowest pace ever, this was one of my favorite half marathons. The Star Wars franchise is a little piece of my childhood, and the nostalgia factor alone had me happy from the moment I set foot onto the course. The other two Disney-themed half marathons had long sections in the middle where there was little to see and the miles dragged. I don't know if it was the extraordinary Star Wars fan base or what, but there was always something to see: huge turnouts of costumed Star Wars fanatics passing out Red Vines, and incredible custom-painted cars that had mounted blasters and a R2D2 copilot. There was also a large high school band and cheer squad presence as well, with a half dozen schools represented and encouraging runners and giving high-fives. This was the first race greater than a 10k that I didn't wear my water belt. Although it's my preference to run without something around my waist, I'm always afraid there won't be enough water along the course. The water and aid stations were plentiful, and there were hundreds of volunteers along the course and in the finish area keeping things moving. Good after-race food and electrolyte drinks, too. Great work, Disney!   

Legal

Dear Beauty,

I'm so behind that I'm not sure where to start. Your 18th birthday has come and gone, and in less than three weeks you are going off to college. 

Hold up. 

It's impossible for me to believe only a year has transpired. Given the whirlwind that was your senior year and all that we packed into 12 months, it felt like we did 5 years worth of living over the course of one year: your first half marathon, your first job, becoming one of ten Teen Star finalists and performing at the Granada Theater, falling in love, a plethora of senior activities culminating up to your prom and graduation...and, I can barely type this without tearing up, the death of Samo. As we approach the first anniversary of Sam's death, I am nearly overcome with awe and pride at how you showed up and prevailed through your grief - despite such a significant loss for any age. You are truly one of my biggest heroes. 

Sweet Samo - Always loved and never forgotten
October 29, 1996 - September 19, 2014

Of all the races I've ever run, this half marathon was the
most meaningful. Photo credit Kaycie Landis

This is a digital painting of your Teen Star
performance created by the incredibly
talented Mirra Tubiolo.

Twue wuv

Your beautiful updo for prom

The heart can only handle so much awesome; your
brother's promotion from junior high was the same day
as your graduation. This also happens to be my favorite photo...ever.

It felt like I had hella more stamina a year ago than I do now. This girl is dog tired, man. I must've been 10 years younger when we were taking college tours last March. Yeah. You remember that one time, you know, when we were casually walking the UCSC campus with Don Cheadle?? #fangirl

Well, howdy. Iron Man has nothing on Don Cheadle.

Speaking of fangirling -- which is not a verb, but I just made it so -- a local writer and acquaintance of mine recently wrote about launching her nearly-adult son onto the unsuspecting world, wondering if she had taught him everything he needed to be a self-sufficient member of society. 

This must be a rite of passage for all parents, because I am fraught with the same dilemma. All the skill-appropriate milestones have been reached: potty training (although I am certain every parent is convinced they'll be sending their son or daughter off to college still wearing pull-ups to bed), learning to ride a bike, using an actual real knife to slice a bagel in half, parallel parking (well, this one is still a work in progress)...the list goes on.

A year ago, we were overwhelmed with college essays and applications. I tried to imagine you on each campus we toured, carrying your backpack and rushing to class. Fast-forward nine months, you have been accepted to 7 of the 10 colleges you applied to. In seventeen short days, you are out on your own and moving off to college. However, all that seems like small potatoes. 

The real question before you leave for college is this: Did I do a good job raising you to be a kind person? A person of integrity and compassion. The type of person who is a more than a good student, but a good friend. The answer to that question is complicated; I've come to realize that those things aren't really up to me. You have been those things all along. 

I was thrilled when you got a job last summer at the YMCA. You are a natural with children and you have an incredible work ethic. My readers may not know that, coincidentally, we happen to work at the same place. It tickles me to no end to see the expression on a coworkers face when they learn that we are related. Easy to get to know, outgoing and friendly...people all comment on how lovely you are. It has been so much fun to see you excel at work (June employee of the month) and go from the newbie to a seasoned veteran in a year's time. 

In March, we will take a trip together to Paris -- a graduation gift from your grandparents. I am thrilled to go to Europe with you and I can't wait to see you conquer your freshman year away at college. 

There are no words to describe this moment.
 You are always in my heart.

Remember to wear sunscreen, study hard and above all...be you. I love you always.

Mom 

Seventeen

Dear Beauty, 

You turned seventeen a few weeks ago. I'm sorely behind on this letter, although I have thought about what I wanted to write frequently, such as: how can you be so old already? I know it's cliche for adults to say stuff like that, but it's the truth. 

Weren't we just celebrating your 6th birthday...when I actually talked a dispatcher into sending a real ambulance and paramedics to our house for your party, so all the kids could see what a real ambulance looked like on the inside? 

You wanted a hospital-themed birthday party that year where kids could weigh themselves on a scale, listen to their heart beat with a real doctor's stethoscope, and use child-sized crutches. Of course, there was the overzealous guest who made you cry by putting band-aids over every single one of your babydolls' eyes. Regardless of that one snafu, it remains in the top three of best parties I've ever thrown. 

And then you had to go and do this:

That first day you drove by yourself to school,
you drove off with my heart.

We toured colleges over spring break a couple weeks ago. I was both excited for your bright future, as well as feeling overwhelmed with the realization that you will be headed off to college and on your own in less then two years. Maybe I should follow you and go back to school to pursue my college degree after all? JUST KIDDING.

And I'll be completely honest: I've bought into all the hype about high test scores, perfect GPA's and a well-rounded college resume. Although it's coming from the best intentions, I have literally made myself sick behind it and brought you an unfair additional amount of stress. It's a completely different world than when I was in high school, and I cannot fathom the pressures that you've faced as a teenager. Truthfully? No employer has ever asked me what my high school GPA was. You are going to get into a great college. 

Touring UCSC...where we saw Don-freaking-Cheadle!

Today was a special day; we spent the afternoon together shopping for a prom dress, shoes and accessories, and, if everything goes according to plan, your sweet boyfriend is asking you tonight to his senior prom as I write this. I love seeing you in love, and I couldn't be happier for you. This whole thing with your friend Samo's health has affected me deeply. My biggest fear as a parent is to outlive you or your brother, and it's been a reminder of how precious family and childhood are. I want you to know how much you are treasured, and to look back on your childhood and our crazy family with fond memories. 

Last year's birthday present: Cooper.
The gift that keeps on giving!

Performing with your brother and Dishwalla drummer
George Pendergast for Big Daddy's epic birthday party!
It was one of the best days of your father's life.

Your brother! I don't even know what to say about this picture.

You, me and Aunt Erika with friends at the Warrior Dash!
You were a very good sport.

Sparklers to celebrate your birthday at Theo and Thea's house.

I love this face so very much.
Happy 17th birthday, Beauty!

You are truly one of my favorite people. All my love always...

Mom

Thirteen

Dear Son,

Last week, you turned thirteen. The two of us spent the long weekend in Seattle, and it was a trip that I will never forget. I hope it's a trip you won't forget, either; the Experience Music Project, skateboarding in Ballard and at Seattle Center, going to Jazz Alley with your great uncle and grandma to see Mindi Abair play Heart's Barracuda on saxophone, and exploring Pike Place Market: 

I am mostly okay with you becoming a teenager - that is, until I remember that you are my youngest child. In five years, you will leave for college and move on to adulthood. Likely, this will be harder on me than you; I have spent much of my adult life child-rearing, while you've spent all of your life working on the business of growing up. Moving forward will be no stranger to you, and I know you will be successful in anything you set your mind to.

One of the things about parenting that I always looked forward to was sharing my favorite music with you and your sister; I took great pride in taking you to see The Black Keys in concert, as well as listening to the new Black Sabbath album together. What I didn't anticipate was that you would reciprocate and share your favorite music with me: Let Her Go by Passenger and Disclosure's When A Fire Starts To Burn are all kinds of awesome. 

My hope is that your life will always involve music. I have seen your enormous musical talent solidify in the last year. Part of the reason is that in addition to your weekly drum lesson, you started studying jazz this year. You have gone from being a novelty as the youngest drummer in your music academy to a solid onstage presence in five short years. It is no exaggeration to say that when you performed last month, it was one of the best days of your father's life. 

It is a joy watching you perform with your sister. Speaking of which, you are an excellent brother. One of my proudest moments was the time you stepped in and told your sister's then-boyfriend, who was being an idiot and gloating over beating her in a board game, that he needed to 'let your girlfriend win'. 

Happy birthday, son. I love you always.

I love that I know what 'rock to fakie' means, but mostly...I love you.

xoxo

Mom 

Yabba Dabba Doo

The first car I can remember my mom driving was a little orange Honda 600Z Coupe:

This is exactly what 'Z-Car' looked like, right down to the racing stripe!

A friend said it reminded her of Fred Flintstone's car. Our car was so small, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that two or three adult men could have lifted the car and moved it: 

"You could poke your feet through the bottom and run,
just like Fred Flintstone!'

We were a bit of a spectacle. People would frequently stop my mom in a parking lot just to get a look at our car. The most common question people asked her was how many miles to the gallon it got. According to the factory specifications, the car got 40 mpg. However, just by the simple physics of drafting, my mom could get almost 50 mpg out of ours. 

"See? The truck in front of us pushes the air around it, creating a sort of tunnel. Can you feel how we are just pulled along in the draft of this semi?' she'd explain. 

To be honest, I couldn't feel any difference. Although, as an adult with almost 30 years of driving experience and a parent of two kids, seeing her explanation written out like that makes me think of two words: death trap. Regardless, I always felt perfectly safe. But our tiny car wasn't just for the sake of novelty; at $1,500 it was a small fortune for us. Even though we always managed, I was too young to really understand how poor we were. 

For example, our favorite brand of peanut butter was Skippy. I preferred mine creamy, and my mom preferred crunchy. In the 80's, there was a drought that affected the peanut crop and created a shortage of peanut butter. It was a splurge at almost $3 per jar, so my mom couldn't afford to buy more than one jar at a time. There were frequent disputes in the grocery aisle over whose turn it was for 'their' favorite style of peanut butter.   

We spent many summers traveling across the country in our orange car, camping along the way. Not only was it an inexpensive way to travel, it was a lot of fun. My mom could efficiently pack an impressive amount of gear in our little orange car, and we would make our way across the state visiting relatives and staying overnight at various campsites. 

One summer, we were halfway through our trip when our tiny orange car broke down. My mom managed to get someone to tow it to a mechanic, but the cost of repairs was more than she could afford. To settle our bill, she agreed to sign the title of our car over to the mechanic. And then she sat down on the curb and cried. It was one of only a handful of times I've ever seen my mom cry.

In hindsight, I have puzzled over this scenario: What kind of person would take advantage of a woman traveling alone with her daughter in this way? I cannot get over how anyone would be so heartless. My only hope is that karma was swift.

After my grandma refused to come get us, my mom called 'Uncle' Lenny, one of her oldest and dearest friends, and asked if he could pick us up. Lenny drove over 300 miles straight to get us, and another 120 miles to take us home. That was the day I learned the real meaning of friendship. 

Oh, we ain't got plenty of money

Maybe we're ragged and funny

But we're rolling along, singing our song

Side by side!