The Rainbow Connection

It's no secret that I like rainbows.  I like them because they're colorful and beautiful and also because of the associations with unicorns and sunshine and hearts and let's not forget glitter and sparkles.  But recently, I had a total epiphany about rainbows and what they mean to me. 

can you see the rainbow through the clouds? It's like where's waldo

On the way to school the other day, it was pouring.  And not just pouring, but teeming.  Just full on rain.  As we got a little closer to school, the rain stopped and we could see peeks of sun through the clouds.  My sweet little girl said:

Mommy, there's gonna be a rainbow soon ... I don't mind the rain.  Because sometimes there's a rainbow after and rainbows make everything better.

Now, to be clear, at age 7, she was absolutely talking literally and not metaphorically, but I thought about what she said, and I realized that her sweet little summation of rain and rainbows was without question a metaphor for my life.  You see, I've spent a lot of time in the rain lately.  

A few weeks ago, I posted about my "Spring Break-down".  I was kind of kidding.  But I was also pretty serious.  Work was out of control.  Training was busy and frustrating. I contracted the flu, which took a good two weeks from which to recover.  And to top it off, I lost a cousin who was in her early 40s to cervical cancer.  Her death happened quickly, without much warning and unfairly.  She was young, happy, kind and had the biggest heart.  We said goodbye to her the day before Easter, and it profoundly affected me.  I was struck by how many people came to say goodbye and by the overwhelming sense of love and loss in that room.  A close family friend sang a lovely song during the funeral service.  I have no idea what the words were, but her voice was sweet and soprano and beautiful ... and tinged with tears.  The most beautiful thing about that song was not the words or her voice or her courage in singing in front of a room filled with people; the most beautiful thing about that song was how completely filled with love it was.  At a time when no words could assuage the sadness, no action could "fix" what happened, the simple act of singing a beautiful song was an almost tangible expression of love.  The song itself was the rainbow in deluge of grief.  

The rain has continued to fall and I've worked my way through it.  One of the most upsetting things has been the shift I've felt about training.  Running has always been, and will always be,  my soul sport that brings me joy and happiness and catharsis no matter what.  Yet, my runs were not doing that.  They were stressing me out.  They were annoying.  I was on one of my recent long training runs, and at one point thought to myself, "why am I doing this? I'm not having fun. This is not fun."  Now, anyone who runs or trains knows that not all workouts are fun.  Some are tough.  But at the end of the day, if you consider it a net "fun", then you're good.  My workouts were becoming a source of stress.  I was viewing them as a chore.  I wasn't loving running.  And that would not stand. That was not OK.  Because what is the point?  That's when I realized it was time for a reset.  Not a "rest" but a "reset".  Funny how that one little letter changes the word completely.

I need a reset so that I can simply enjoy swim-bike-running for the sake of the activities themselves. I have been training for, and have accomplished, huge goals over the past few years.  Those goals are, and always will be, a huge part of who I am.  And I still have a ton of goals left in me.  But in order to reinvigorate and reenergize my love of the race, I need to step back and stop training.  I won't stop my activities. But I am not racing for awhile.  I have the NJ State Marathon this Sunday and Devilman Sprint Tri the following week. After that, I have nothing on the calendar until November.  I need a reset.  I need to step back from the structure and the rigor of a "training" schedule and simply enjoy the sports.  I need a reset, not a rest.  

I want to try new things this Summer.  Trail running, more kayaking, yoga, hiking and -- gasp! -- walking.  I want to hop in a lake and just swim without regard to how long or how fast or how far.  I want to wake up on a Sunday morning and say "hmmm, how far should I run today?  let's do ... 10!"  I want to challenge myself to be more spontaneous and more relaxed (and yes, I recognize the irony in what I just said).  But part of being in the rain has been this focus on a big goal and the race, and the loss of the simple joy of my daily runs.  I want to get that back.  So taking myself out of the training schedule cycle is the way to do it.  I need a reset, not a rest. 

Don't get me wrong: I love racing. I love training.  I love schedules.  It's a big part of who I am. And that has been reflected over and over as I've told people who know me about my plans to take the summer off from competition.  My former mother-in-law kind of gasped when I told her!  And those reactions are wonderful, because it shows me how much a part of my life racing is.  I chatted with my coach, who is fully on board.  We've agreed to start working for Boston 2016 in August.  But, in the meantime, I need a reset, not a rest.  

This is a very long way of saying once my two races coming up are finished, I won't be posting as many training recaps here on the blog, but will be focused more on experiences.  I will certainly get back to a more regimented schedule in the Fall (and I will be ready for it). But the Spring and Summer will be about new adventures and experiences.  

And back to rainbows, because everything comes back to rainbows.  After my little one pointed out the possibility of seeing a rainbow, and after I dropped the kids at school, I drove through three rainbows.  Three.  One Rainbow. Boom! Two Rainbows. Boom! Three Rainbows. Boom!  The picture above is one of them.  I have to think it meant something.  All of these rainbows.  All of this hope.  All of this promise that even though the rain was here, now "everything will be better."  I believe it will.  On recent runs, I've thought a lot about the fact that I am lucky - ever so lucky - to be able to run like I do.  That I am here to see another Spring.  That I can smell the sweet flowers and the fresh grass and to move and feel fast.  I'm moving onto my rainbow stage from the rain of the past few months, and I am so very happy.

I will leave you with my favorite lyrics from the song that's the title of this post, "Rainbow Connection".  I have this song on a handful of running playlists (sung by Kenny Loggins) and I love it when it comes on.  These particular lyrics of the song always make me cry:

What's so amazing

That keeps us stargazing

And what do we think we might see

Some day we'll find it

The rainbow connection

The lovers, the dreamers, and me

This is me to a tee: despite it all, despite the rain and the sometimes unbelievable sadness, I'm still stargazing and searching for rainbows.  I'm hopeful that the next few months will help me find them. 

My funny Valentines

Valentines Day is tomorrow.  I'm sure you're all aware.  As is the case every single year, my blog reader has been filled hearts! and cupids! and treats! and love!  It's a little overwhelming, and if I'm being honest, in many cases feels saccharine and over the top.  Don't get me wrong - I love Valentine's Day.  I've posted about it before.  If I've learned anything over the past few years, it's that, as my dear friend Madelyn says, Love Always Wins.  

So in celebration of that day of love, I want to send a valentine to my biggest little loves of all: my babies - forever babies they will be.  

Dear Baby Littles,

Valentine's Day isn't usually a day for a love like ours - it seems to be a romantic holiday for grown-ups.  But you two have taught me more about love than anyone else in this world.  So I want to send you my own special Valentine.

Recently, I heard someone make a comment about divorce that made me think of you.  This person said something like "divorce will forever change who your children are."  At first, it was like a punch in the gut.  As much as I love you and know you, I will never, ever know what kind of toll the divorce in our family took on you.  I remember something your Daddy said to me in those final days - "they will always have each other."  And it is true.  The two of you are each other's bread to the butter, peas to the carrots.  I've done my very best to listen to you, to be open to your fears and questions and to assure you, over and over, that even if your Daddy and I are no longer married, we are, and always will be, a family ... if not in the traditional sense.  You are, and always will be, loved fiercely.  So anytime someone talks negatively about divorce and children, I immediately get a little defensive and protective. 

But this comment stuck in my craw a bit. Because I don't think it's fair.  Or, rather, I don't think it's necessarily an accurate criticism of divorce.  I think pretty much anything I can do as a parent has the potential to change who you are forever. After all, your Daddy and I are the ones who probably have the most power to shape who you are and who you will become.  So rather than focus on the fact that we are divorced, I want you to focus on the good that has come from it.  On the happiness that you see.  And on the reinforcement from me, from your Daddy, from your grandparents, and from everyone else in your family who has shown you, time and time again, that love always wins and that you are surrounded in an unyielding cocoon of love.

I hope you have learned that love is an infinite, yet amorphous, thing.  That you are loved in an intense, amazing way, but that that love may not fit a particular mold.  And that there is always room for more love in your life.  Love always wins.

I hope you know that as much as I love you (and I love you a million) and even though you both take up the center of my very strong heart, that you are not, and never will be, the absolute center of my life.  I love you. I love your lives.  I love everything about you.  But you are not, and will not be, the center of my existence.  I have passions in my life.  And you are one of them. But you are not all of them.  I want you to learn that lesson and carry it over into your own life: never, ever make your passion or the center of your life be another person.  That is no way to live.  Find yourself.  Find what you love.  Love fiercely. But love yourself.  

I hope you remember forgiveness.  The two of you have shown me an incredible amount of grace and forgiveness.  There are days when I know I am not the best mom: I cry; I overreact; I lose my temper.  I have learned to take a moment and then come back and apologize to you.  To articulate, in a way that a 6 and 8 year old can understand and appreciate, that sometimes Mommies have bad days.  And that, in particular, your Mommy isn't perfect and she's sorry.  I hope when you are my age that you have children with the capacity for love and forgiveness that you two have -- and that you can feel the way I do when one of you hugs me and pats my back with your teeny tiny hands.  It reminds me that in this life with all its ups and downs, I've done something really right.  The hug from one of my amazingly compassionate children truly does make everything better.

I hope you know that nothing is hopeless.  Nothing.  That even on your darkest day, there is light if you look hard enough.  And if you cannot see it, I hope that you have people in your life to assure you that it's there.  You are my people who do that.  On the days when I really do feel bluer than blue, you make me laugh and remind me that a better day is ahead.  Tomorrow or the next day or maybe in a week.  It's there.  And in the meantime, let's have ice cream and watch Wheel of Fortune and laugh. That a good belly laugh fixes almost everything.  

I hope you remember that I am always thinking about you and wondering about you.  I don't worry - you're both incredible human beings with tremendous, unique personalities.  Both of you have more empathy, compassion and affection than I can ever dream to have myself.  But during each day or weekend when I'm not with you, I wonder what you're doing, what you're thinking, what you're feeling, what you're learning.  I will tell you that when you were born, I never imagined being apart from you.  It is the absolute hardest part about our current situation - that I am not with you every day or that I do not get to see your sweet faces every single day.

I am proud of you.  And I want you to be proud of me.  When I watch you play soccer or gymnastics or basketball or swim, my heart nearly bursts with pride out of my chest.  I see you scan the crowd for me and for my face, and I really do hope that my beaming expression shows you how proud I am.  And just like you, I want you to be proud of me.  I can't wait to tell you about my races.  When I rounded the Olympic Oval at Ironman Lake Placid, my first thought was "where are my kids and I hope they can see this."  Not because I wanted you to watch ... but I wanted you to be proud of me.  And to know that anything, absolutely anything, is possible.  

You are both quick to say "I love you" and "I need you" and "let's snuggle."  Don't ever stop.  The world will try to change that sweet, optimistic desire to love and be loved.  Don't let it.  You've rekindled that kind of love in me, and I can't thank you enough.  

So, I do hope that I have changed who you are.  I hope that your sense of love and how to love has gotten stronger in the past few years.  I hope you know that no matter what happens, no matter who comes in (or out) of our lives, that we will always have each other and that I will love you - love love love you - more than anything.  

Love always wins.

Love,
Mommy


See you swoon,

Recap of 2014 Home Resolutions - What I Accomplished

I love this time of year!  The cozy warmth of Christmas is still hanging on, the new year is right around the corner, and the doldrums of Winter haven't quite arrived yet.  I always make resolutions for myself and for my home.  I will continue this tradition on the blog next week when I will share what's on tap for 2015 for me.  But today I want to recap how I made out with my 2014 Home Resolutions.  

1. Blue bathroom - amount completed: 200%!

Done!  All I had to do was to take out the broken shower doors and replace them with a curtain. I did this and it looked great.  I also redecorated the space and brought in some pops of red, pink and other bright colors (and lots of white) to minimize the blue fixtures.  I really love how this room turned out.   Here's the post about everything.  

2. Master bedroom - amount completed: 100%

Done!  My plan for my room was to finish it up: hang pictures, hang a mirror, make it feel like a more finished space, refinish my jewelry box and hang something over the television.  I got it all done.  

3. Playroom - amount completed: 80%

I got the big stuff done - organized the space, made TV and play zones, organized the toys and kept it that way.  When the weather got warmer (and Ironman training got more intense), I ran out of steam and interest in working in the playroom.  So I still have a few things left to do, and those things are on my 2015 resolution list.  But here's the space.  

4. Laundry closet - amount completed:  95%

The little things make such a difference! I love my little laundry room closet.  I posted about what I've done to get it in shape.  I am toying with the idea of painting the walls and adding some art.  

5. Basement Storage Room - amount completed: 90%

After Ironman, I kicked this room's butt and took its name.  It took an entire weekend, but I cleaned up and organized this space and now I absolutely love it.  I want to take advantage of the Winter weather and finish up the room by labeling the bins and drawers for even more glorious OCD organization.  I have the labels ready to go.  I can't wait to do this!  I'm also toying with the idea of painting the walls and floor ... but that isn't likely to happen.

6. Little Kid's room and closet - amount completed: 100%

Done done done!  Little Kid's room is done!  I have a few minor tweaks to make to the space, but that's normal for me.  Here's the post where I revealed most of the work I did in Little's room.

7. Stairwell  - amount completed: 100%

And once again, I amaze myself with the power of art on the walls.  Adding a ton of framed art, photos and prints to my stairwell has made my formerly cavernous stairwell feel cozy and homey.  It has also minimized the ugliness of the current wall color. I love it.

8. Half Bath  - amount completed: 65%

I wanted to refresh my half bath.  I've gotten a good start.  I brought in a little stool/table that I painted white and gold.  I also changed up the artwork in here - I bought a new print for the wall in  happy coral and yellow colors.  All that's left is to add some more accessories and a new hand towel and possibly create a removable frame for the builder-basic mirror.

9.  Dining Room  - amount completed: 90%

The dining room is looking good!  I have done a bunch of little tweaks and added a bunch of new art, which really finishes off the space.   All that's left is to refinish/paint my dining room table.  That's top o' the list for 2015.  I'd love to add a natural fiber rug under the table too (to minimize the grey carpet).  That's a maybe.

10. Painting Projects  - amount completed: 90%

On my list of furniture to paint was: Big Kid's Rast nightstand (done), Little Kid's and my mirrors (done), bathroom stool and kitchen stool (done), my jewelry box (done) and dining room table (not done - see above).  Well done me!

11. Paint the House  - amount completed: 0.00%

Yeah, this is a big LOL.  I've decided to take this one off the list.  It would take forever, and now that I've redone the stairwell and added art throughout my home, I don't feel the overwhelming need to paint the whole place.  I'm also not sure how much longer I will stay here, so I don't want to waste my time.

So hey hey - there you go!  I am super pleased with my progress in 2014, especially since a little thing called Ironman took up a crazy amount of time.

Stay tuned for what's on tap for 2015! And happy new year to you!  

See you swoon,

Happy Birthday Dear Shanna ...

Happy Birthday to me.

Today is my 39th birthday.!?!!..

I'm not really sure how to punctuate the sentence, so I struck it all out.  A lot of attention is paid to the milestone birthdays: 30, 40, 50, etc., but I think the 9s are much more emotional.  There is something about knowing that you are in your last year of a decade that is a mix of bittersweet, excitement, anxiety and trepidation.  You have not yet left the decade so there is still time to accomplish whatever you think you need to accomplish before moving on to the next phase of life.  That is a hell of a lot of pressure.  And when I look back at my 30s and what has gone down in the last decade, I can't say I didn't squeeze every last bit of life out of my 30s:  I birthed two beautiful, amazing children; I became an Ironman; I qualified for the Boston Marathon; I came into my own at work; I turned a corner in my life toward true happiness.  What more can I do in one year to cap off the 30s?

Honestly, I don't know. And for the first time in my life, I'm not going to try to guess.  Instead, I'm going to take lessons from my little kid self and make her proud in my last year of my 30s.

Try New Things

I'd like to try something new in 2015 before I turn 40.  Yoga? Hiking? Snowboarding? Hip Hop dance lessons? Disco? Tango? Sailing?  I don't know.  But I want to open myself up to a new experience and new adventure.  Much like I was doing with my little plastic rolling horse.  Giddy yup. 

Laugh More Belly Laughs

Need I say more?  I look at these pictures of myself having real, true belly laughs and honest to goodness smiles and it's contagious.  I want to laugh more, laugh harder and laugh longer.  And try really hard not to pee my pants while doing so.  

Do Not Settle

I like who I am and I'm not going to settle.  That is so easy to say.  But I've come to realize (and it's been reinforced by friends who love me), that I should never, ever, settle in life.  Much like I didn't like the blue dress or the white purse in these pictures, I promise that I'm not going to settle for second rate anything in my life.  

Feel all of the Feels

I have a predilection for minimizing my own feelings at times.  When I'm upset or mad or sad or angry, I tend to hide that and put on a smile and motor on and let the world and those around me think that everything! is! awesome! when it is really not awesome at all.  I want to be more real with how I am feeling, ask for help and let more people in when things are not awesome or wonderful.  

Rest

I need more rest.  More down time.  I tend to GO GO GO GO GO until I crash and burn and the crashing and burning is pretty epic. I'd like to just take it easy a bit more.  There is part of me that needs to be doing something productive at all times, and frankly, it is a big part of who I am.  But I also think I need to take some time where I just don't do a darn thing and enjoy the blissful experience of rest and doing nothing.  

Be Bold

I want to make my inner Wonder Woman proud and to speak up and be bold and ask for what I want and do what I want.  Life is way too short to sit by idly waiting for things to happen.  I'll rustle up my golden lasso and invisible jet and make things happen for myself.  

Dance and Be Joyful

I grew up dancing to ABBA and other similarly awesome music, and I continue to do so.  Life can be hard and challenging and sad and rough, but through it all, I want to remember the joy in it.  I want to remember what it felt like to twirl around in ballet shoes to "Chiquitita" or to run in a circle to "Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)".  And while I can't say I'll be donning my ballet shoes and leotard and jamming out to ABBA in my living room (though, if I'm being honest, that sounds pretty amazing), I can recall that joy I felt when I used to dance around and be mindful of incorporating that kind of emotion in my life.  Joy should not be left to children alone.  I want to experience more joy in my life. 

So there it is - a happy birthday wish to myself.  I have plans with friends, dinner with my babies at the hibachi grill (their choice) and definitely some cake.  Life keeps getting better and sweeter with each passing year.  Here's to another! 

See you swoon,

Running Through

Another Wednesday; another non-project, non-house-related post.  I haven't been very projecty lately. But lucky for you and for the internet, I'll share some musings.  I've been thinking a lot over the past few, well, years about the intersection of running and life. Recently, I was talking with a friend who is going through a break-up and I said that what got me through my own was my family, my friends, my kids and running. Oh, and beer.  :) 

I thought more about that.  What got me through was people and running.  People who love me and support me and were there for me without judgment or question or hesitation.  Friends who, when I said "I need you" asked where rather than why.  Family who said "we only want to see you happy".  My kids, whose hugs and kisses at the end of the day made everything - no matter how bleak - seem OK.  And ... running.  Running was just an activity, right?  Just something I did?  Or was it?  

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that running wasn't just something I did.  It was who I am.  And who I am yet to become.  And it was the process of grieving the end of my marriage and the absolute terror of starting over. 

I am not one who is ever at a loss for words.  Words is what I do and words is what I love - in my real  life and in my real job and here on the blog.  One of the things I love most about writing is my ability to take, and my love of taking, my thoughts and putting them all to words in a way that people want to read, and in a way that people can somehow relate to.  I've been told that I have a way with words.  And for me, having the blog is fun and also therapeutic.  It's sharing a bit of me with the world.  But I have been at a loss for words and unable to explain the direct tie that running has to my peace of mind and my life for the past couple of years.  Don't get me wrong: I've always run.  It's always been important to me.  But it took on a new meaning a few years ago.  I fielded a bunch of similar questions that ultimately asked this: "what are you running away from?"  And I would protest that it's not running away ... running centers me ... running helps.  But my words always fell short.

Until last weekend.  Last weekend, Amy, Bill and I watched the recap of the Ironman World Championships in Kailua Kona, Hawaii.  What's funny is we did the same thing a year prior - it was the day before the Philly Marathon, and we all watched, we had all signed up to do Ironman Lake Placid, we were just about to start working with our coach, and I think we all realized that a year from that moment, we would be Ironmen.  So watching the coverage took on a whole new meaning this year.  The feelings of excitement, nervousness, tension, anxiety, joy ... they were palpable this year because we had gone though it just a few months ago ourselves.  We watched the recap with rapt attention, especially since we had watched the live coverage on race day.  

Ironman always profiles a handful of "personal interest stories" as part of this coverage.  And this year, one athlete was Lisa Hallett.  Hallett started a running-based organization after her husband, a soldier in Afghanistan, died in combat.  Her story was, of course, inspiring.  But her words were even more so.  She shared her story, and I cried.  I cried because it was moving and it was sad and it was inspiring, but I cried because she was able to articulate why running has helped me through my own divorce in a way that I have not been able to.  And I say this recognizing that her loss - the loss of her husband and the father of her three children - cannot in any way be compared to my divorce.  I don't mean to minimize or trivialize her loss at all.  I simply found that her words resonated in my own life.  She gave words to something that, until that point, I was not able to do.  Here is what she said about how running helped her in her grief:

I remember going out for my first run  . . . in my first few steps I was finally able to find the quiet and the space I needed to connect to my grief.  . . . In those first few months, I was trying to run from the heartbreak and tragedy that life had given me.  But I realized in this journey that I wasn't actually running away, but running through it.  

Yes.  Those first few runs when I moved out on my own were like this.  I am pretty sure I burst into tears after a few steps.  All that strong facade that I put up on a daily basis fell to the side and it was just me and my footfalls.  And I was afraid.  And worried.  And yet ... empowered.  I found that when I was running, I was simultaneously my most fragile and my most powerful all at the same time.  I didn't know how to process this, but I knew when I finished my run, I felt good.  I felt like me.  I felt ready to go on with my day.  I wanted to bottle up that feeling of strength, hope, vulnerability, invincibility and make it last.  So I kept on running.  Some runs were just normal runs where I listened to my stupidly horribly music and had a good time. Some runs were just horrible and I felt like a fraud and a failure and the Sesame Street piano player I'LL NEVER GET IT NEVER!!!

Some runs were those joyful, euphoric runs where everything was perfect and I felt amazing the whole time.  And then there were the therapeutic runs -- the ones to which Lisa Hallett referred.  The runs where I worked through my grief and my fears.  Sure, losing a marriage to divorce isn't like losing a husband to death.  But a divorce is, in a way, a death.  It's the death of a marriage, of a life together, of a dream, and of hope.  No one enters a marriage thinking that divorce is a possibility and no one leaves a marriage without a hell of a lot of heartache.  All this is to say: running connected me, in a tangible way, to the grief that I was feeling, but could not articulate, as my marriage fell apart.  Running was, and continues to be, the common thread that makes me feel strong.  Four to six days per week, you will find me running. Running when happy, when sad, when stressed, when angry, when terrified, when normal.  Running is what grounds me.  And, like Lisa Hallett, I find myself running through this journey called life, and not away from it.   I will never run away from anything (OK, except maybe clowns. or mascots).   And I don't necessarily think that I'm running toward anything either, because for the first time in my life, I am trying to be focused on the present rather than being plagued by the future and what will happen.

So for now (and likely forever), I run through.  I let myself feel whatever I feel and deal.  I run through.  I accept things I cannot change and look back on mistakes I made and learn from them. I run through.  I look a bit to the future in the joyful, yet very grounded and realistic, hope of what may possibly be. I run through.  I thank God, every single day, for the incredible blessings in my life: my family, my friends, my children, my health, my job, this blog.  I run through.  

I run through it all.  And through it all, I keep running.  

See you swoon

5 More Things About Me

Happy Wednesday!  Wednesdays are usually house project day here on Swoon, but I've been working on the weekends, so there is no post today.  I thought it might be fun to share some things about me.  Even though I am, for better or for worse, pretty much myself here on the blog, I figure there are always little hidden nuggets that you might not know about me.  I've done this before in this post and this post (so that's an additional 15 things).  Here are 5 more things you always wanted to know about me and more. 

1. I played the piano for over 10 years.

I did.  I started taking lessons when I was in second grade, and age 7, and stopped lessons at around age 16 but continued to play often until I left for college.  I played the usuals - Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, but my piano teachers also allowed me to choose my choice and pick my own music.  And you know that was good stuff.  "Open Arms" by Journey, "Just You and I" by Eddie Rabbit and Crystal Gayle, "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera ... yeah.  But ironically enough, my favorite song to play, and the most difficult piece of music I ever mastered, was "Send in the Clowns"  from A Little Night Music.  I wish I could remember how to play it.  Even if there is some relation to clowns.  

  

2. I am afraid of dogs.  But I love baby animals.

And I blame Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog and Barkley.  Let me explain.  

Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog was, well, a big black dog that lived in my neighborhood when I was a kid.  I don't think he was bad, but he was big and he terrified the 2 year old me (hence "Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog" instead of "big black dog").  If I ever saw him, I would freeze and scream Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog Da-Bee-Blah-Daaooog!!!!!   

And Barkley was this mean mean mean golden retriever (honestly, did you even know that Goldens could be mean? because it seems to go against their nature) who lived up the street from me growing up.  He was so mean and so bad.  One day, Barkley came down to my house and attacked my dog Pepper (a grey Miniature Schnauzer) and my uncle's dog Pepper (a black cockapoo) at the same time.  I watched Barkely attack the respective Peppers and it was traumatizing.   From that moment on, my fear began.   

But I really love baby animals.  Like ... I love them more than a thirty-[redacted] year old woman should.  If I am on a run and see a baby rabbit or a kitten or a baby deer, I will totally geek out and scream.  I mean look at this.  Do you know how many times I bit my cheeks and tried to attack my computer screen when I found this picture?  It is a baby deer and a baby kitten. 

silent screams a baby deer and a baby kitten!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!

3. I bought a Fendi bag once.

A real Fendi bag.  This was in 2002.  I was in the mall and in Bloomingdales and was walking around the beautiful designer purses when I stopped in my tracks at the sight of an amazingly gorgeous, deep claret leather Fendi purse.  It was so beautiful.  It was so me.  It was so expensive.  But it was on sale.  Even with the sale, it was a lot more than I ever wanted to spend on a purse.  I had the sales lady take it out of the case and I petted it for a bit and talked myself out of the purse.  I left the mall.  As I got half way home, it was as though an unstoppable rebel force intervened and turned my car around.  I literally did a U-turn in the road and went back to the mall and bought that bag.  I have never once, not for a second, regretted it. 

4. I love Cheez-Its.  I do. 

I probably should be a little ashamed to admit this, but I am not.  I really love Cheez-Its.  They are amazing and delicious and you can always find at least one (but probably more than one) box of Cheez-Its in my house.  I think I've tried every flavor (and there are a lot).  My favorites are Mozzerella, White Cheddar, Pepper Jack and I like the new grooves ranch flavor.  Behold - Cheeze-It heaven:

5.  I love the King of Rock n' Roll: Elvis Presley. 

I really love Elvis.  I do I do I do.  I think it was the early influences of my friend Heather's mom, but I have loved Elvis for as long as I can remember ... especially old Elvis.  Vegas Elvis.  Suspicious Minds Elvis.  If you happen to find me at a karaoke bar, there is a very good change that I will sing Suspicious Minds at least once.  It's a mainstay on my running playlists.  One of my favorite things about Sunday mornings is the "Elvis and Friends" show on the local oldies station.  Oh Elvis ... we're caught in a trap ... I can't walk out ... because I love you too much baby."  

And there you go.  5 more things.  Consider your otherwise mundane Wednesday made.  You're welcome.  

See you swoon,

Five More Things About Me

Happy Friday! Friday!  I'm so ready for the weekend.  

Oddly enough, one of the most popular posts here on the blog was my post from September with 5 Things About Me.  Well, happy day for all because here are five more.  

1.  I hate sweet potatoes.

Anyone who knows me knows that I like food.  Correction: I love food.  I love to eat.  I love to eat many things.  I love to eat everything.  Everything -- except sweet potatoes.  I think they are absolutely vile and wrong and just bad.  I hate them.  I hate when restaurants try to pass them off as fries.  I hate their stupid cousin, the yam.  I hate them and refuse to eat them.

no. just no. never.

2.  I wore "corrective shoes" as a little kid.

When I was really little, I walked pigeon-toed.  I remember wearing blue corrective shoes with those blue and white laces (although my shoes were more like oxfords vs. the high tops pictured below ... but for the most part, those shoes are dead ringers to what I wore!).  I remember not liking my shoes and desperately wanting white or red or pink mary janes.  My parents took me to a doctor who was quick to suggest surgery.  They went for a second opinion and that specialist suggested they just leave it alone and when I got older I would self-correct.  That's exactly what happened.  But if you look at little kid pictures of me, chances are, I am sporting some sweet blue shoes.

3.   I cannot sleep without white noise.

I blame my son.  Totally.   I learned early on when he was a baby that white noise was a godsend and would help him, and me, sleep.  So when he was a newborn and sleeping in his bassinet (or swing) in my room, I used a white noise machine to soothe him to sleep.   Night after night, I'd put on the machine.  Finally I moved him out into his own room and his crib, but I was hooked. I had to go out and buy another white noise machine for myself.  To this day, I cannot sleep without it.   Thankfully I have a "white noise" app on my phone too.

4.  I like my steak rare.

Yes.  I really do.  In fact, if I could get it pan seared, that would be ideal.  There's just nothing better than a big ol' rare steak and a big ol' glass of petite syrah.  Except maybe some creme brulee for dessert.

5.   I love the Copacabana and I have a dance to go with it.

Both true.  I really love the song "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow (I mean ... who doesn't?).  And not only that, I have a full on dance that accompanies it.  I made it up myself, so you know it's really special.  It's a mix of the cha cha, a reenactment of the song itself and several dances from the movie Dirty Dancing.  It is on basically every wedding video from every wedding that I attended between 1999 and 2006 where the wedding played the Copa. I also love Barry Manilow.  I'm a total Fanilow.   One memory that is now indelible in my mind is from his concert at the outdoor Mann Music Center in Philadelphia about 10 years ago.  I went with my friend Angie and we were the youngest people there by a good 40 years.  But at one point he said something like "Let's pick up the tempo!  I can get down.  I can dance.  I can shake my yes yes yes as much as anyone else."  Whereupon we died.

There you go.  Five things you always wanted to know but were afraid to ask.  Happy weekend!

See you swoon,