STWM Half-Marathon, CHECK!

It's been one week since I crossed the finish line at the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon in a time that even surprised me!

I was expecting to finish around the 2hr, 15min mark, and instead finished with a time of 2:04:54! My pace being 5:55/km which for me, is really quite fast for that distance (21.1km).

My coach Mike and his wife Yvette picked me up at 6:30am, and we picked up Phil (my pacer for the half) at non other than Starbucks. A quick pee break (which I wouldn't normally mention, but I have to because it's rare that I beat Mike at anything. I pee faster! Ha!), and we were Toronto bound.

All exits to downtown from the Gardiner Expressway was destined to make us late, so we exited further than anticipated. No one else was panicked, so I remained as calm as I could (like a deer waiting to be shot). Our walk ended up being a great way to warm our legs up a bit, and we just barely made it across the road before the 5km runners were finishing their run. We made it to baggage check and checked out washroom situations along the way. Mike and I had to pee again, so I turned to Phil before separating and said "don't you lose me!" he said "don't worry I wont". (In retrospect, I wish I hadn't said that to him.) Off Mike and I ran. Leaping over benches, dodging people in our way to get to a port-a-potty. Mike got to one before me, and yes, I beat him again HA!
Mike and I walked very fast to the yellow corral where we were supposed to find Phil. Mike realized he left his water with his wife, and I was also looking for my friend Stacey and Chrissy with only minutes before the start time (enter panic). My heart is racing just typing this!!!
I was THRILLED to have Stacey and Chrissy sneak up on me and Mike. Off we barreled through the yellow corral to look for Mike's wife, and Phil. Oh Canada was almost over, yet still, no Phil, no Yvette. We made it to the front of the yellow corral where Stacey took a couple of pics with me, (you can see I'm doing my best to smile and be happy).

I hear a gun fire, look at Mike who confirmed with me, the race had started. (I advance to being scared). I checked my heart rate (135bpm!), looked around, and the herd of people started moving forward to the start line. I chose to take off my throw away coat, and tossed it to the side.

Deep breath.

Off we go. I stick with Chrissy and Stacey for a short time. Mike, I figured was still looking for his wife or off like a bullet so I didn't try to look for him. Next thing I know, he is right beside me and says "you're running too fast". "I know", I said "I'll slow down now. Have a great run, Mike!". Mike said, "Don't worry, Phil will find you".

That was the last I saw of Mike, until he had a km left to run for his marathon where I teared up cheered for, and watched him speed by, also reaching his outstanding goal of 3:45. I couldn't help but feel so proud of what he was about to accomplish at that very moment.

I told Chrissy and Stacey I was going to slow down. They acknowledged me and I watched as they quickly vanished amongst the vast amount of runners.

The sound of hundreds of people running around me made me nervous. I kept close watch on the feet in front of me, not wanting to clip a heel (and then feel like one), or worse, injure another runner because I'm distracted.

I came up to the first water station, attempted to take some Gatorade (this would be my first attempt at taking a cup from someone while running, and then drinking while running). FAIL. Gatorade all over my chest. I then grabbed a cup of water, squeezed it and sipped out the tiny hole I made while running. I got even smarter and later walked while drinking. LEARNING! Also, I'll add, I always said "thank you". Those volunteers rock!

Normally I would use my iPhone app to keep my pace, so I really had no idea how fast or slow I was running. I had my HR monitor keeping my time, so I was trying to look for the km markers and not trip anyone.

Anytime I would see someone tall in my peripheral vision, I would think it was Phil, and then it wasn't. Instead of feeling this constant distraction I was allowing myself to have, I made a decision to take the advice given to me by so many other runners - enjoy the moment. BE in the moment. I hoped that Phil had given up on looking for me, and was just running his own race.

Finally I see a 5km marker, and I'm under 30min. GOOD. I have time to spare and still meet my goal of 2:15 if need be. I slowed down a bit to get my HR to a lower rate.

On the Lakeshore, the elite's ran in the opposite direction. It was nothing less than inspiring and super incredible to see. I was in awe of their speeds!

I passed the 10km marker at 57:38. GOOD! I'm still making good time. I slow down even more, let so many others pass me. At this point I am used to people passing me. I've grown accustomed to the grunts, moans and spitting all around me (kinda). By now I AM in the moment. I feel the sun on my face, and I say "you've done this so many times, you can do this!" to myself over and over. I remind myself of all the well wishes from friends on Facebook and Twitter, and of course my husband and kids.

Crowds, in a big city with kids is just not easy for my husband - understandably (I would have worried if they were there). They were there in spirit, and cheering me on in my mind. That was more important to me.

My name was on my bib, which was great! Strangers cheering me on by name was what I needed. It happened A LOT! I found myself high-fiving people, and at one point, even overheard one guy say something like ...boy, you can really tell who's not going to make it. I turn to look around me, like...did anyone else hear that? This other girl looked at me and we laughed! We can hear you!!! Some people!

When the separation of the marathoner's and the half's came up, I felt relief. My run was almost over. I was really talking to myself saying, "you can do anything you set your mind to" and various other ramblings.

Running under the Bay St. bridge was like someone turned off all the eyes on me. I took that moment to shake it out...pretty much lose any form I had, turn into a rubber band and breathe. I could see crowds in bulk on either sides of the road ahead. The sun was suddenly beating down, and I felt the last km slowly passing me by.

At 300m, I felt this song switch on in my head like I hit play. The song in Sixteen Candles when Jake Ryan shows up at the church, leaning on his car - starts playing in my ear. Click here to play song. My last moments of this race, were much like a happy ending in a John Hughes movie. This half-marathon is much more than just me training for something most people don't feel they can do (but can). It's finally being on the other side of just talking. Less talk, more do.

With 200m left, and crowds cheering, I was in the moment. I felt my toes push off faster, and my sprint began without me even telling my feet to go. My momentum was intense, so intense I almost took off an arm from a spectator! oopsies.

I finish. Barely able to breathe. Gasping for air, I truly believe I'm going to pass out. I dare not bend over to lean on my knees. GATORADE! Chug. MORE. Chug. Foil blanket. Chrissy? HI!!!! I found a friend!

Chrissy and I briefly get a chance to say hi, when I hear "ELAINE!", and see my big brother, Mom and Dad waving at me from outside the shoot. Coming from Uxbridge, I was really pleasantly surprised to see that they came! They wanted to surprise me - and they did!

As Chrissy and I start to walk again, I find Phil at the Gatorade station! YAY! PHILLLLLLL!!!! We figure we started 8min apart as I was in the front of the yellow corral, he in the back. I was just glad to see him, I felt awful for him as he continued to stop, look for me, and carry on. Phil did me a favour by even offering - a big thanks to him for that!!!

After catching up with Stacey whom finished in her own wicked personal best time (1:45), we all posed for a pic, and separated. Phil and I looked for Yvette and Myron so we could all find a spot to cheer Mike on.

So you see, it's not just about me running.

We are a group of people whom depend on each other to keep motivated. We push ourselves - and in turn, it inspires others.

Thanks to the encouragement from my new found friends, and new hobby, I have already registered for Around the Bay in Hamilton in March 2014, and Ragnar Relay in May 2014.

STWM Half-Marathon - CHECK!

T Minus 11 Days!

Deep Breaths. Close to 16 weeks of training my body, sculpting my brain and convincing my muscles to accomplish something I have never done in my almost 39 years of living.

Compliments have been pouring in. "You're half the person you were!", "I hardly recognized you!", "You're disappearing!", "You look AMAZING!", and I have been banking every single one of them. It's those compliments that are reminding my brain that even though I feel like the same old Elaine, I possess something much different. I am less talk, more do. My smile is sincere. I'm proud of my new hobby. Finally I fit in.

I'm not nervous about running, or even finishing the race. That I know I can do. Will I wake up on time? What will I wear? Will my laces come undone just before the finish line and trip me in front of everyone? Will I be able to pee before I run? These are all things that cross my mind, and make me far more nervous. I'm fortunate that I have had a running coach teach me all that I need to know, and now, a new running friend has volunteered to pace me the whole way. Disbelief. I'm a lucky gal to be surrounded by such an amazing running community.

What makes this journey even possible, is the love I have received. My husband has fully supported any and all efforts I have made, specifically with becoming healthy with my eating, and running. It's not easy being married to me. You see, I dream a LOT! I talk about all these different plans and ideas I have for us. He rolls his eyes and smiles at me, knowing this could be just another dream talking. What I do know, is that he is just as excited as I am that this dream is coming true for not just me, but for us.

When I cross that half-marathon line, I wont just be winning for me. Half of the work getting to where I am, is due to the support of my husband. The medal will be worn by me, but achieved by us both.

My First Half Marathon - In Training

It seems like I just started running, and essentially I did. The summer has come and gone, and I've almost completed my 10th week of half marathon training. Did I just say that? I'm just as shocked as the people in my life. The compliments I've received with regard to my physical changes have been surreal. My ability to run distances I couldn't barely walk before, is surreal. I base any, if not all of my success on the belief that my friends and family believe in me, even if sometimes I don't. What I DO believe that has had the most impact or baring on my success thus far, is my mental growth.

I have been asked: "how did you do it?", and it's never an easy answer, because it's never been easy to accomplish. People want to hear a secret, a short cut, or that it all comes in the form of a pill. I know this, because that's what I wanted in the past. I chose to believe that there had to be an easy way. My success is directly a result of building a trusting open friendship with someone also willing to better their health, and thus opening myself up to more friendships with those interested in focusing on personal goals. Together, my friend Stacey and I stayed focused. We held each other accountable for our choices. We called each other out when necessary, and also opened up our circle to have others focus on their personal goals. We were able to praise each other without updating Facebook status', perhaps only announcing huge goals. We focused on the positive, we held each other high and used the goals reached by others to further encourage us to stay focused on our own goals.


Early Morning Trail running high with Chrissy (Left), Stacey (Right)

I have been asked: "how did you start running?", I refer back to my last blog. http://laneyfitzdays.blogspot.ca/2013/06/territory-unknown-running-for-my-life.html This is truly how running started for me.

Since running in the Classic Mile in Cambridge, I would like to think I've come a long way.

Classic Mile Run, June 2013 (Left) Paris Trail Run, Sept, 2013 (Right)

I have also been a part of a little running community of my own that I'm very proud of. Apparently when one focus' on themselves in a positive form, it is inspiring to others. Since announcing my mission to train for the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon on October 20th, 2013, I have also trained with and inspired two of my friends whom just needed a little encouragement to do the same.
Stacey (left) Me (Middle) Chrissy (right) on Sept 6th, 2013 after running 18Km, Chrissy went back and did a total of 20km

Amongst all this chaos, my most driven and inspiring Coach Mike connected me with an opportunity to share with others how I have been able to overcome every day challenges of being able to balance my many responsibilities, and make time for running. Next thing I knew, I had an amazing film crew unpacking gear on my front lawn, and pleasantly interviewing me and my kids in my home. I will be sure to post a link to this 2min video as soon as it has been made public.

Film crew, Matt, Eric and Francis

Things I have learned on this journey, are far too many to mention, however some health concerns along the way were difficult for me to overcome. Firstly, the transition from simply (I use that term loosely) losing weight - to running and burning thousands of calories in one week while also trimming and building muscle has been very challenging mentally. Taking my Coach's advice by staying off the scale, eating more (good) food, and my husbands advice to see the doctor has been essential. Knowing this transition is hard, I may not be using common sense since truly, I've had to adapt quickly to this new way of life. It's important to be a good listener, and "back the eff down" when it comes to any ego.

I have come to realize that I was not eating as much as I should have, and as a result my hair was falling out. After blood work, I am low on iron. Hydration is also key, and learning as much as I can about what happens to fluids as I am running has helped me understand WHY I HAVE to follow instructions. It's a side to this running stuff that has baffled me, but I take very seriously.

Coach Mike has been a huge part of my success, as he has been answering endless questions and proposing ideas to me endlessly of how to improve my performance. I look very forward to running at his pace someday (soon).

I have also learned that music can make or break a run. At first it was my goal to find tunes that kept to a running beat. That doesn't work for me at all. It has to be music that makes me smile when I run. It has to make my arms swing, and my concentration on the goal, intense. Music to me, is a reminder of how my accomplishments thus far are something to be very proud of. Apparently for me, mostly the 80's just do it for me. Here is a sample of some of the songs that rev me up!

Footloose, Kenny Loggins
Holiday Road, Lindsay Buckingham (National Lampoon's Vacation)
Bruce Springsteen, Dancing With Myself
Whip It, Devo
She's a Maniac, Michael Sembello
Walking on Sunshine, Katrina and the Waves
Working for the Weekend, Loverboy
Kyrie, Mr. Mister
Laid, Matt Nathanson
What a Feeling, Irene Cara
Obsession, Animotion
Surrender, Cheap Trick
Gloria, Laura Branigan
The Reflex, Duran Duran

I'm incredibly fortunate to have such an amazing, supportive husband and kids whom are just as excited to hear about my accomplishments as I am to complete them. It's a challenge to not talk about it all the time, as it can take its toll on a spouse when they don't have the same hobby, but knowing he checks his GPS to locate me on any given run makes my heart smile. I appreciate his support, and the kids' support more than they will ever know.

In summary, my half-marathon training has been an experience that has truly changed me to the core in more ways than one. Learning I AM an "athlete" now, and I AM a "runner", are exciting terms to add to my vocabulary! I am nervously excited about completing the STWM in goal time (to be determined closer to date), and I'll be happy to write about that experience after it happens.

Gotta Run!

Stacey (Left), Me (Right)

Territory Unknown - Running for my life

My son, Carson had a class trip to a friendly, yet competitive event with Run For Life against other schools in the Cambridge area. I was excited I was able to make it, albeit in yoga pants and running shoes, oddly enough I fit in. I pinned on a runner's number on as many students with my son's class as I could, feeling envious of what? Who knows? Being the kind of parent I am, I have no qualms about making a fool out of myself to better the needs of my children. I promised my son if he ran the first two laps of Dickson park, I would run the last with him. Parents and teachers are encouraged to participate any way they can, which is awesome! I jogged along side my son, for once, not caring what anyone thought of my jiggling back side. I patted my sons butt on the straight away, knowing that at some point I have to let him go. Holding back the tears, cheering and whistling as loud as I could, I watched as my eldest child hustled off ahead of me, trying his best to finish his race - which is all I ever ask of my kids. My son was not first place in that race, but he overcame his fear of not winning first place. In that moment I realized perhaps I have not been practicing my own ways of life. I wanted to show him, I wasn't afraid of trying as well. I ran in the last race of the day with teachers and other parents. One lap around Dickson park. Quickly after the race started, I realized my choice of bras that day did not reflect my activity! Also, losing 40 pounds recently, my XL yoga pants began falling....and falling. My concentration was shot. I looked ahead, and back and saw that I was in the middle. Not bad! My inner voice pushed on, and I finished. There were no high fives for me, and although I was initially peeved that no one knew what I had just accomplished, in that same thought, I didn't really care. I didn't lose weight for anyone but myself, and if my son didn't see me run, I could tell him I tried my best. I felt great. I felt accomplished. I felt I needed to shop for a new bra, STAT! A few days later, my friend Mike simply asked me if I was entering into the Classic Mile race at GCI's clay track. UMMMMM...I'm not a runner. *My inner chubby girl quickly asks WTF are you thinking?* I decide to properly time myself on a clay track (Glenview High School). I brought my children with me, which was a mistake. I ended up losing my concentration and encouraging them to run along side of me. My time was under 10 minutes for that mile. Not good. I pulled my groin pretty bad, and of course didn't need any more reasons to cop out. I timed myself (sans children) on Monsignor Doyle's recycled tire track (not sure of the proper name for it...as "I'm not a runner"). I ran with a friend (a runner) and she was half a lap ahead of me at the finish line. Really? I timed myself at 9:11. An improvement. After discussing with Mike about not concentrating on my times or places, "just come out and run". I realized he was right. It is after all, what I tell my own kids. How are they ever to believe me if I don't do it myself? I spend the next 3 days allowing my groin to repair itself, and mentally getting over this hurtle that the chubby girl inside of me kept building. I know I can physically do it, but in front of so many other runners? This is the apitome of personal stress. Arriving with my supportive husband, and children that just wanted to go to Dairy Queen, I am met with a scattered group of stretchers, joggers, runners, announcers, perfect bums, great flashy shoes, drums pounding and then there's me. I feel like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. A sign above my head that states "CHUBBY GIRL THINKS SHE CAN RUN". I'm flashing back to movies I've seen where clowns are laughing and faces zoom in pointing, mocking me. I go to registration and get my number. My number. I get to wear a number. Numbers are for people whom are committed to their body, whom know technique, and know their competitors. Pinning it on without even running felt like a hurtle. The frog in my throat made me want to hurl.

I meet up with friends whom too, have come to challenge themselves like me, which actually made me feel better. I'm not as alone as I thought I was. Time stood still for about an hour before the race, which allowed me time to warm up. Stretching, breathing, watching people racing around this clay track. My thoughts immediately go to how falling face first would really be great (enter sarcasm).

Photo Credit to K Jacobson. My group of runners are asked to come to the start line. Gulp. The thought had never crossed my mind if I'm supposed to just start, or lunge start, or whatever. I'm pretending to know what I'm doing, and not pee in my pants. I hear the gun fire. Immediately I say to myself "SHIT, this is really happening". After the first turn, I see the others in my group ahead of me. "That's ok" I say, "...they wont have to look at my bum jiggle". Which then lead me to my next thought: "I'm really glad I bought runners shorts to go over my 3/4 length yoga pants, and boy, this sports bra is great!" *shakes head* "FOCUS!". I come around to my family, and a friend, cheering for me to keep going and hang in there. "Oh yeah, I haven't even finished a lap yet". My husband is taking many pictures, knowing I requested to make sure he snapped shots on my up jog. Members of the crowd are yelling "GO 86!" I think, "Oh yeah, that's me! Keep going! They are watching you!" Second lap I have a good momentum, steady and sustainable. I'm just concentrating on my breathing. Reminds me of being in labor, anyways. Third lap, and I can hear them....my group. I'm suddenly realizing I could be responsible for tripping them. I have this lovely way of waving my feet out while I jog, which is fairly attractive (enter sarcasm). I concentrate on coming out of the track a bit to give the leaders the inside. I hope this is the right thing to do! They've all finished the race, and I still have one more lap to go. I chug on. As I come around the 4th and last lap, I notice a rather large group of elite runners on the track. They don't know I'm coming. My initial self (and my apologies for thinking this) was "HEY! How RUDE! GET OFF THE TRACK!". Then again, I'd never be 3/4 of the way on a track during their race. That's just me. I'm almost at the finish line. I feel the burn, but I let go. It's ok that I push hard now, and I did.

I finished, crossing the second white line at 8:42.23 seconds I see Mike with open arms, who encouraged me and believed I could do it.

My husband was there, so proud of me, and my kids all welcoming me. I'll finish by saying how afterwards, my husband told me that my son was very concerned that I was not first. He knew I was not going to win, and didn't want me to be hurt. My husband told him that I already won the race. "How?" my son asked. She won because it's a race against herself, and she tried really hard. I suppose that's all I really want out of life. For not only my loved ones to know that I try really hard, but also for me to know as well.

AUTISM, Its Everyone's Frustration

Autism, It’s Everyone’s Frustration

As today marks the end of Autism Awareness month, I find myself feeling like I didn’t accomplish as much as I originally set out to do.

I wanted to inform as many people I could about not just my own son’s issues with his Autism, but also to inform what people need to know about the public school system (and other school systems) and its lack of support for children with special needs in general.

For the most part, teachers, principals and its supports want our children to succeed. This will not be argued. Unfortunately lack of funding is in translation, commencing a “race” for all parents that require special attention for their child or children in school.

In short, you have to make your child need the support more than other children. We have to take away support from another human, in order to receive the help and assistance for our own child. It tears parents apart.

It’s a constant battle, and the worst part is, we don’t know whom to trust. Parents hand over their children to strangers whom all say they want to help. Every parent does this, yet a child with little ability to communicate may go hungry at lunch time due a gluten/casein free diet and due to lack of simple communication (a phone call).

Some children with Autism in particular are physical in their communication. This means they can react to a command by simply throwing anything, like a chair, or punching anything or anyone in their path. I ask, what are they “reacting” to?

Is it possible by removing them from an integrated class, into a small enclosed room with one or two EA’s, we are compounding the pressure for these children to flourish? How would YOU react to being forced into a small room, and spoken to like you are a baby (in some cases), and asked question after question after question. How would YOU react to someone asking you to perform a task over, and over and over again?

One thing will remain true. Children with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) have one thing in common. They are SUPER intelligent human beings. Our educational system considers them to be a nuisance in my opinion. What the government fails to acknowledge is that every one of these children grow to be adults. As adults, they will require care – and make no mistake these parents who care for them will die. Their current care is now on the hands of not just the parent of the child with Autism, but on the hands of every person with or without money in their pocket.

Do we wait for the child to grow into an adult, then say “OH, he/she needs assistance!”, OR, we can provide the necessary therapies TO ALL diagnosed children while they are children. When they grow into beautiful intelligent loving adults, we, as parents can set them free to LIVE. Our every day that passes depends on EVERYONE knowing what is happening, and what we can do about it now.

As a parent of a neuro typical child, do you want your child in a classroom with an unassisted ASD child? If the ASD child reacts, this becomes YOUR issue too.

I urge you and everyone you know to ask your children’s teacher if there is a child with ASD in their class. Now ask them if that ASD child is receiving sufficient support.

In conclusion, I will be asking my son’s school AGAIN if they will prepare a document which recognizes that he has a diagnosis. I will then ask they prepare another document which outlines his triggers to outbursts, and successful means to achieve his goals (an IEP). This will be the third time I have to ask for it, and most likely the third time they will try to talk me out of it.

The race is on.

Ahh, it's not so bad...

It's amazing when the sun comes out how one's life isn't so bad afterall. After the last few days of sunshine, even the kids are enlightened and sunny themselves. Julia has even been helping me around the house - WITH A SMILE!

Gord and I are excited about our trip to Cuba too. He and I have never been away alone together - ever! It's not something we can ever really afford as we like to put our money towards the house and the kids, but what good is all that if Mom and Dad are not happy or just working to get by? I think it's very important to pay yourself first. The kids are young, but old enough to leave home. I'm excited and ready to relax!

On another good note, Carson and Julia both started gymnastics this week and did quite well. I was laughing hysterically when Carson was on the trampoline and was asked to jump off and onto the matt and land on his feet, but every time he would do a superman and fly on his stomach. The coach had a hard time not smiling and laughing, but we cheered when he finally got it.

It's a wonderful feeling as a parent when other adults laugh at the moments that differenciate your child from others. After a while, I'm sure as a coach or a teacher, these kids are like cattle being pushed through a fence....all the same...all mooing.... all annoying. When a child shines, and it's your child - I believe it's a wonderful gift to share it. My boy sure does know how to spread that joy!

Julia on the other hand is very pretty, and she's starting to know it. I'm really pushing the fact that beauty means nothing without brains. I'm very careful to not disrespect myself in front of the mirror. Self confidence starts with intelligence and hopefully over the years I can teach her more about that. She's 3... I think I can take it easy for now!

So for now the sun is shining and I have to go admire it quickly before it goes away!

Elaine

I love my kids, but...

People love to tell me these are the best days of my life. Strangers DEMAND for me to soak up these great moments. I do appreciate when my kids use manners, appreciate and respect me. I do love when those great moments happen and I try to write them down before I forget them. So why do I feel like I just need to escape?

My son Carson even with autism doesn't trouble or stress me out as much as my neurotypical 3.5 year old daughter Julia does.

Julia, bless her lil' heart can really put the wrinkles on my face and grey on my head. She is ready for school, ready to socialize, ready to spread her wings. I'm ready for her to do it, but until then, she's stuck with me.

I try really hard to entertain her thoughts and needs. Just yesterday I was softening air dry clay for her to work with, yet she instisted on taking from the hard clay pile, then crying over the fact it wasn't working the way she wanted it to. This took the seal off the pressure cooker a.k.a. my head. I quickly put it all away, hence leading to more tears.

Last night, 1/2 an hour past their pajama time, I asked her to set aside her toys and go up for jammies....well.... she nearly took my ears off screaming "NOOOOOO NOOOOO NOOOO I HATE YOU MOM!!!" There are moments like that one, that take the words out of my head. I have to factor in that she's tired, yet no one should speak to anyone like that - ever!

I guess what I'm saying is, I'm ALWAYS disciplining. I'm always trying to take the time to explain proper behaviour, and trying to have fun at the same time. Right in the middle of my 'lessons' she starts to tell me how it is... totally erasing any explaination I made.

How is a mother supposed to enjoy these moments. The highs are so HIGH and the lows extremely LOW.

Is it wrong of me to announce that I just want her to grow up a little more? She can be downright ROTTEN to me, playing off of Gord... smirking at me, gaulking at the fact she got him wrapped around her finger... it's just not familiar territory to me.

Being that our firstborn has a disability, these were never issues I had to deal with before. Also being that I'm a very strict parent when it comes to manners and respect, I find this so much more difficult! I just know that if I don't nip it now, I'll be in trouble in 5-10 years. I feel guilty sometimes when I wish for things like this. I could have had a second child with a disorder - since the odds are more favorable for that (says the statistics when you have one child with a nerological disorder such as autism), so how dare I even think these things?

I suppose I validate my thoughts in my head because I live it every day. It's just not a big deal so maybe I'M the one that needs to grow up and accept responsibility for the children I have.

There are days when I feel like a car with a heavy load... and when Carson received his diagnosis, the back tire was replaced with a donut. With Julia, her highs and lows threw another donut on the back... and I feel like I'm going to pop.

I don't want to pop. I just want to be a good mom, who stands behind good values 100%. I may need a friend to help hold me up - even just for a minute or two now and again.