Author: Allie P.

No thanks required

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

2013-3-28-MarineCorpsMarathon

The weather is finally beginning to transition from the scalding heat of summer into more comfortable temperatures, and at my house that means that running season has once again begun. The hubby’s more casual runs have taken on a more desperate urgency as he trains to participate once again in the Marine Corp Marathon.

He’s run a few marathons before, but last year was his first time attending this particular event. The boys and I traveled with him to our nation’s capital to offer our support with plans to cheer him on along with thousands of other spectators.

The bombing in Boston had understandably made everyone a wee bit nervous and it was going to be nearly impossible to get anywhere near the course except by foot. Knowing that I was going to be in charge of wrangling both of our boys by myself all the way from the hotel to the finish line I had borrowed a double stroller. It unfortunately had a semi-broken wheel, a fact that I didn’t immediately recognize until we were already in DC. I chose to make do with what we had. My hubby wasn’t going to be the only one getting a workout that weekend.

The day before the big race, we had gone to check in with the officials and pick up the hubby’s race number. Security was in force and there were several lines you had to stand in. We actually stood in one line for close to ten minutes only to realize that it was a line to buy race related merchandise and had nothing what so ever to do with picking up the official bib and tracker.

We had managed to pick up most everything, but there was one more line required on the other side of the street. The boys by this point were starting to go a little stir crazy. I told the hubby to go ahead, that we’d catch up. Without the unwieldy stroller, he would make better time. He did, disappearing into the crowd.

I began making my way out, only to realize that the exit I had gone through took me out on top of a large staircase with no handicap accessible ramp. Going back in the way I came wasn’t an option, security check points wouldn’t allow it. I inched our way towards the first stair, stopping the stroller at the edge. I circled around to the front to ask my elder son to get up and walk down the steps so that I would be free to carry his brother. He decided this was a good time to be uncooperative.

I heard a voice over my shoulder ask if I needed help. I muttered an automatic negative response. I would be okay, I told myself, and returned my attention to my eldest son, who continued to show no signs of behaving. I must not have been very convincing. Suddenly hands appeared from every direction lifting the stroller and my sons up. Within a blink we were down at the bottom. I glanced around. Based on the number of hands, there had to have been at least four people, but they were gone before the words, thank you, had even left my mouth. I never even truly saw their faces.

I thought to myself, what just happened!?!

Then it hit me. I was surrounded by Marines.

Marine Corp Memorial Iwo Jima with Washington ...
Marine Corp Memorial Iwo Jima and finish line of the MCM distance (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been very fortunate to never once been in a position to see Marines in action first hand. At least not when it mattered. So perhaps I might be excused for being surprised. However I realized then that I should not have expected anything else. These were people trained to overcome resistance, execute their mission with maximum speed and efficiency, and leave no one behind. Even more amazingly they were expected to do all of these things each day without thanks.

I will admit that my ego needs feeding. I crave acknowledgement of good work. I will perform a little victory dance after a job well done. I think to myself I’ve earned my praise, I deserve it, when the majority of my work consists of taping some keys at a computer. To be reminded that there are people who risk far more, requiring far less is extremely humbling.

I may not always agree with the when and how they are deployed, but I am grateful everyday that there are people like that out there. If one of my random helpers from last year’s race stumbles upon this post and remembers the lady with the double stroller on top of the stairs trying to do too much on her own, please accept my most sincere thanks even if you didn’t think it was required. You are inspiring.

A person’s a person no matter how small

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

When my eldest son was still in diapers, I had the brilliant idea to take him on an airplane trip to visit my sister. He was adorable at that age (still is – whoops! I mean handsome), but there is something about being crammed together in a tiny metallic cylinder thousands of miles above ground with no hope of escape for several hours that makes any child appear more monster than cherub.

Even as a parent, I’ve been there a number of times myself. You see harried looking parent coming towards your gate with their baby in tow and all you can think is please be on the next flight. Please!


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I did my homework well in advance. I planned our strategy. I would hold off giving him a drink until we were in the process of taking off. That way he would be swallowing his milk while his ears adjusted to the change in pressure. I would book a flight as close to his nap time as possible. His natural body rhythm combined with a full belly would help ensure that he would sleep all the way to our destination. I would also book a flight time that was least likely to be utilized by the business commuter set.

He was too young to be distracted by video games, but on the chance sleep didn’t come easy, I had a few relatively silent toys packed in my carry on for emergency distraction. It didn’t matter that they weren’t any of his favorite toys. If they were the only toys around, surely he would give them a try. Right? All these preparations were designed to decrease the likelihood that other passengers would have to listen to the less attractive use of my son’s vocal chords.

When we arrived at the airport and began check in, the ticket clerk looked at my husband and I, the baby, and over our shoulders as if looking for some missing third party.

“The child is traveling with you?” she asked.

“Yep. It’s his first flight,” the hubby and I responded. Duh.

She stared at us. I began to sweat.  I didn’t understand why she was looking at us like we had just landed from Mars.

“He needs a ticket.”

I was positive that kids under two could ride for free if they didn’t need a seat. I’d read it several times on the airline’s website. My son wasn’t even one. “He’s going to ride on my lap.” I responded lamely. What was she not getting?

“All passengers are required to have a ticket. Even lap children. He is a person too.” She ran her fingers over the keyboard and poof out spit a ticket with a $0 balance.

I thought I had anticipated everything, except that I’d neglected little detail, and wound up unintentionally marginalizing my child.

As she handed us the ticket, she repeated, “he’s a person too.” It reminded me of the Dr. Seuss book, Horton Hears a Who, and the story’s call to action:

“Don’t give up! I believe in you all.
A person’s a person, no matter how small!
And you very small persons will not have to die
If you make yourselves heard! So come on, now, and TRY!”

The Scottish referendum on whether or not they would like to stay a member of the United Kingdom is likely over by the time you read this. I have no vested interest in either outcome. But I’ve been utterly fascinated by the process. There may have been attempts to shush them, soothe them, or limit their exposure, but one way or another the Scottish people have made their voices heard. And they’ve done it without violence. They’ve done it without their complaints being hijacked, derailed, or otherwise lost in the noise of lesser issues.

More of my best laid plans fell to the wayside during that particular flight. He made sure I knew the consequences of taking his normal good behavior for granted. My son’s first flight has thus far been his only flight. However those are stories for another day.

Today’s story belongs to Scotland, no matter how they choose to write it. May all our voices carry so clearly.


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Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

Harder_Better_Faster_Stronger_by_momentscomic

As I picked up my toddler from day care, his teacher approached me positively beaming. “He attempted to climb out of his bed today at nap time,” she explained with a big grin. Though he sleeps in a big boy bed at home, his bed at day care is one of those portable cribs. To my eyes, there is a fairly significant drop from the railing to the floor below. For many care givers, reporting that a child in their care is putting themselves into a potentially harmful situation isn’t something to be excited about. At least it isn’t something to be positively excited about.

But my little lord tyrant has always had a way of redefining expectations.

In an earlier post, I wrote about how my son has hypermobility and how difficult it was for him to catch up to his peers in terms of motor skills. If that challenge hadn’t been bad enough, according to his last several check-ups, it is likely he’ll inherit his height from my side of the gene pool. Poor thing. My height hasn’t been considered average since before the 1900s. The crib wall comes up to his shoulders. Therefore if he is able to successful pull his entire body weight over that height it is an impressive achievement, even if earns a few new bruises as a trophy.

We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was. Better...stronger...faster.
We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was. Better…stronger…faster.

The conversation reminded me about the multiple weeks we spent with the physical therapist. Once he achieved walking, each follow up appointment started by placing him on a baby treadmill. His therapist explained to me that in order to build up muscle mass in his legs, he had to first tire them out. He had to make his muscles strain and suffer in order to build up their strength. The phrase no pain, no gain, came to mind.

Pain is a funny thing. It warns us when there is something the matter so that changes can be made before more permanent damage is done. Without the sensation of pain, you might not realize that you need to remove your hand from a hot pan on the stove. If we are lucky, an unexplained pain can send us to the doctor before a tumor becomes un-treatable. While pain is something most of us would like to avoid, it is a necessary component to continued health.

Pain can also be the world’s best teacher. If we never experienced hurt, and life’s other lows, we would never truly be able to fully appreciate their opposites. If we never pushed ourselves to our limits, we would never fully learn the extent of our capabilities.

I’ve begun work on my third novel. With each project the task has become increasingly more difficult. I am in the process of making a few edits to An Uncertain Faith, and plan to be releasing a new edition in the coming months. Additionally I still have to finalize the cover design for the second project and begin rolling out its release. Finding the time to fit in the writing of a third novel, a sequel, is no easy feat.

But in someways writing the third is significantly easier than writing my first two books. It is a sequel. I know these characters and their setting. I know what it takes to pull their story from my mind and put it to paper. I can plan my schedule accordingly and have given myself a much longer runway. I may at times feel like I am straining myself, trying to do so much, but it’s made my determination to succeed that much stronger.

If I am asking my toddler continue to push himself, the least I can do is to do the same.

Getting back to work and other influencers

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
I'm the Zombie in blue. See I even have experience!
I’m the Zombie in blue. See I even have experience!

My throat stopped feeling like I’ve swallowed a sharp rock, my body is no longer alternating between icy chills and oven-like heat, and I am able to pick up and carry the toddler around the house without worrying that my arm is going to give out under his tiny weight. After days of being ill, I am finally back in the land of the living. Huzzah! It’s a good thing too. A few more days of that particular bug and the show-runners for the Walking Dead would have been calling me to act as an extra. In case any of them are reading this – even though I am healthy, I still would be an awesome zombie walker. Call me.

Unfortunately, work and life in general weren’t considerate enough to remain stagnant while I recuperated. Returning to the office, there is now a virtual mountain in my inbox and all my deadlines are now a week closer. To make matters worse, I am now past due on all my month end closing tasks. It’s almost enough to make me wish for another visit by the germ fairy, if only to give me an excuse to hide once again under the covers. Almost.

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So now it is time to get back to work, so where do I begin? Well first I guess I will scan through all the hundreds of unread emails and prioritize based on an algorithm factoring in sender, number of other names on the cc list, and whether or not it can be answered with a quick yes or no answer. Excellent. Next I’ll shuffle through one pile of papers and see what I can immediately recycle. I’m making progress now! Now I’ll look at my other messages. Wait? What is this? I’ve been tagged in a Facebook game about books I’ve read? Stop everything. This needs to be addressed immediately.

While the list of my favorite books of all time is somewhat different, the following is the list of the ten books that most influenced me growing up:

  1. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein – It taught me to never accept defeat without a fight. Opportunities will always exist for those who are able find new uses for things that others deem worthless.
  2. The Last Battle: The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis –  This remains one of my favorite series finales. It taught me that all things have a way of being connected on some level and that everyone makes mistakes, even if they have the best intentions in mind.
  3. Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury: This novel not only opened the door to the world of Science Fiction and Fantasy, but also taught me that as evil doesn’t care about your age, you don’t have to be at least 18 years old to stand up against it.
  4. Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett – which taught me there is always a reason to laugh, even if it is the end of the world.
  5. The Awakening by Kate Chopin – This one opened my eyes to the feminist movement, which later led me towards my current views on gender equality
  6. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen – What can I say, it’s a classic. This shaped my view on what a romance should be, witty insults and all. I loved that there were no characters without some individual flaw and yet together they were perfect
  7. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas – A well thought out plan is awe-inspiring, but be warned that a plan that does not allow flexibility can break you
  8. The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman – It taught me to trust in myself and that even experts can be wrong sometimes.
  9. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien – even the most unlikely hero can still rise to the occasion.
  10. 1984 by George Orwell – The novel that showed me the power of words

Honorable Mention – The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan,  The Dragonriders of Pern (and spin-off novels) by Anne McCaffrey, and the Belgariad and Malloreon Series by David and Leigh Eddings. No single volume out of these epic series stands out far enough alone for my list, but considering how much of my free time was spent reading these books I would be remiss not including them as a major influence.

So now it is your turn. How hard is it for you to get back into a work routine after an extended absence? How do you prioritize?

Or – you can procrastinate like me and answer what books influenced you the most.

 

Putting priorities under the microscope

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
How to prioritize in 15 stesp
How to prioritize in 15 easy steps

We had received an email from school warning us that a stomach virus was going around my son’s class and was therefore not surprised (nor excited mind you) when kiddo succumbed a few days later. Poor little thing. Luckily after a mere 24 hours the fever had broken and he was once again nearly his boisterous self.

Then we received another note from the school. I am beginning to develop click dread. This one stated that a parent had confirmed their child had been infected with strep, a particularly nasty bacteria that can knock an adult flat on their hind quarters as well as lead to several other complications if left untreated. Awesome. I felt my throat tickle at the mere threat.

By the time I had gotten that note, tested kiddo, and put him on antibiotics, it was already too late for me. We hadn’t treated kiddo for strep, only for a 24 hour GI bug as was previously advertised. Did you know that strep manifests itself similarly to the flu in 4-6 year olds? They might not ever even complain about a sore throat or display any other outward symptoms. Sneaky buggers. Did you know they can remain contagious 2 – 3 weeks if left untreated? I didn’t. I guess you learn something new every day. Within a week I was rocking a moderate fever and my biggest accomplishment was getting dressed for the day.

Thankfully, having a good idea what my condition was in advance helped me seek out treatment sooner. All I had to do is rest for the next 48 hours while the antibiotics took hold. Amoxicillin, how I love thee.

Unfortunately I wasn’t the only victim. The hubby, too, developed a lovely case, leaving only the toddler in the clear. We had at least had the foresight to keep them separated. I guess the family that develops antibodies together stays together. Therefore he and I found ourselves in a frightening situation. We had two perfectly healthy, energetic little boys, who are too young to take care of themselves, and absolutely no energy to do just that.

I was told that having children will help teach you where your priorities lie. You find out what you are willing to sacrifice (i.e. spontaneous vacations, shopping sprees, watching first release movies at the actual theater, etc.) This is true – to a point. Those are all luxury items. Being sick with kids is actually the better teacher. That’s the situation when you learn what non-luxury items aren’t really that essential after all. I found out that I can survive in an extremely messy house. I don’t care if the kids’ shirts don’t match their pants if they can dress themselves. The toddler’s potty training can wait a few more weeks, he’s obviously not that into it. The kids only want to eat mac n’cheese or spaghetti? Fine. Deal. Here’s a multi-vitamin to chase it with.

Who knew that something like microscopic bacteria could teach me so much about myself?

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