It takes not a village of people to get kids to run, but a village of mini-figures. Yes…it was a late night for this Lego creator. As these awards sit on my desk getting ready to be brought into their new homes, I like to envision the homes they may go to. Your home may be full of baseball, soccer or karate trophies that may collect dust on the shelf. I hope that when these trophies join the their real Italian marble base counterparts, they will have a special place in the hearts of their recipients. Why…because these Lego mini figures have heart. Like the runner that carries it home, they have shown us what it takes to build a better person, one brick at a time. I hope that when a child sits in bed and stares at the shelf above, he or she sees his or her own potential realized. All of the kids that do Go Far deserve one of these and I wish I could make one for everyone. Ahhh…so many little mini-figures…so many little victories!
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OK...I’ll be the first to say it. It’s fun to dunk the principal. Try to look at it from a kids perspective. The principal represents everything that is required of you. It’s like he knows what your thinking all the time, good thoughts and bad. He keeps your internal checklist in order; a code of conduct that people of polite society would follow. It is the one person that lingers in your thoughts as the one to watch out for if you take a wrong turn. So the kids lined up one after another and dished out their money just for one shot at him. “Take that for my detention for not doing my homework. Take that for sticking my chewing gum under the table and getting caught”. As he got dunked over and over again, he cheered the kids on. The kids would wonder, “What? He is encouraging me?” They looked vexed as they could see he’s wasn't angry for their current indiscretions. He would even say good job when he would come up for air like a drowned rat with a smile on his face. So to all the principals out there, you could learn a lesson or two from that man in the hot seat. He knows how to connect with his kids. He’ll go so far to allowing kids to publicly mock him, just to ensure they hit the bullseye. Success for these kids is his ultimate goal, even if it will require a towel to dry off. Kids...remember that the man with arms crossed and the austere look as he stands at the top of the lunch room really wants the very best for you, despite your willingness to end up back in his office. Just don’t try to dunk him on Monday.
Hair has been a sore subject with me these days. I have seen my closest of friends lose her beloved hair, while my own mane just keeps getting more wiry and wavy and a color I just don’t recognize anymore. I was getting ready to go out to dinner and with the roles reversed, my daughter sat me on the toilet seat and braided my hair. It felt good to be pampered for a few minutes. I got the same lecture that I always give her. “Mom, let me introduce you to the hairbrush,” as she yanked her way through my knotty birdnest. These days, I haven’t focused very much on beauty and to be honest, I never really have. I have friends that have not a lick of grey hair, have perfectly moisturized faces and sport the trendiest of looks. I sport fleece, have years of sun and wind damage to my skin and could very possibly be completely grey by my early forties. To cope with this, I take pictures of the things I find beautiful. I like to freeze time if only for a second so beauty will forever remain. Personal vanity has its moments of merit but feels more contrived and less telling of who we are. Peter got his seasonal sheering today and I decided to lose the Cousin It look myself. It feels weightless, more bouncy and has lightened my load for the week. If there were a week to lighten my load, it would be this one. Is this haircut the miracle I have been hoping for? Well, not really. At least it’s a step up from the “do” these ladies wear in this photo. See, there is something to be thankful for every day.
Way to go Jen…right? I wish I could say so. If this is the start of race week, it can only get better. As I navigate the job description of program director, there are many road-bumps. The list of issues that come up range from the mundane to the inane. Just yesterday, I built 84 Lego trophies. After proudly setting them up in perfect rows, Peter walks in and ask why the girl mini-figures had hair and the boys didn’t? He says, ”Mom, how many bald 10 year old boys do you know?” As I tell him to pretend they’re in the army, I get a phone call from a parent clearly not happy with me. I was very relieved that my New York, Italian Irish was held back by the fact that my children were in the room. This all came right after the last Go Far award assembly, where I broke down in tears at the thought of leaving these kids and a school like no other. I couldn’t even read a letter I had written to the kids because of the fact that I ‘m a big mush-head. If yesterday unfolded this way, I may be in a strait jacket by weeks end. Despite yesterday road-bumps I believe that due to some really amazing people with really big hearts, we'll pull off our little race that could. Seven days from now, medals will be awarded (if they come in), and by now, I will have scrubbed down the last bathroom stall at the fairgrounds. We will have seen the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat; even if the competitors are only running for a trophy made from Legos. For many, this trophy will be on par with Olympic gold. This day will represent more than a year of goal-setting for these little feet. All year long they “Go Far”, and on this day, they’ll get to “Go Fast”. If I get to race day in one piece it will be a small miracle and if you see me with a scrub brush in hand on Saturday afternoon, you’ll know we pulled off an even greater one. And then maybe in the back of my mind I’ll think to myself, “way to go”.
Oh baby it’s hot. Chris looked at me before trudging up to the attic to retrieve the AC and without a word, I knew what he was thinking. In a few short minutes he would return with a honker of an ac unit, drenched in sweat, wishing it were October. During the summer, the attic becomes a sweltering place hotter than Lady Gaga. My husband always calls this meatloaf season because of one time, long ago I inadvertently decided to make meatloaf on the hottest day of July. Ever since then, on July 18, the statically hottest day of every year, I prepare a celebratory meatloaf. Chris wipes his brow of sweat and there is no need to season the meat as the salt drips down. Perhaps, this year, we’ll have a mid-summer meatloaf party and invite some friends. So rather than dwell on the weather and my ill thought out dinner menus, I thought it would be best to share with you a photo or two from last year’s relentless winter. Hopefully it will remind you of the miracle of the seasons and how we always relish the opposite season of the one your in at the time. I find winter the most perfect season to photograph because it is stark and simply beautiful. As the air gets heavy, the dog get lazier, and cheeks become flushed, remember that soon enough well miss this season and find ourselves longing again for the dog days of summer.
When I was training, my coach used to teach me to push myself in ways I had not thought possible. My competing distance was usually 2000 meters. What makes a 2000 meter rowing race so difficult lay in the fact that it is too short to be done at a lower cadence and too long to be a sprint. The magic or in this blogs case, the miracle, was to find the sweet spot that you could maintain for the entire distance without exploding. My coach and I worked out a formula that worked for me. We practiced it relentlessly. The start would come with and all out sprint to help you get a jump on the competitors around you. Then you would settle into a pace that hurt like the Dickens. It felt like a lifetime as you hammered your way between the 500 and the 1500 meter mark. The great undertaking would find its crescendo with 500 meters to go.I practiced this until it was just part of me. In that two minutes, I would take the stroke rating up by two beats every 30 seconds until you were revved like an engine at 100 miles an hour. One stroke would follow the next so quickly that it felt like a tornado of energy and motion. This whirlwind would hopefully be wreaking havoc around you as you took down one competitor after another. In the end whether you were the victor or not, nothing was left on the table and you knew that you had done your best. You body lay wasted with no regrets. Today, my lessons learned from this repeat experience have not been lost in time. When the challenge is there, facing it with confidence and resilience is the only option. Hard work always pays off, even if it feels frenzied and difficult to maintain. Like a rocket as it takes off, it’s best to think like there’s no turning back because within reach, you can touch the moon.
In the craziness that is the last two weeks of school and before the Go Far race, I clunk myself on the head to remind myself that it’s 5 o’clock somewhere. Should I really be longing for anything? I think not. The truth is that I never really crave escapism. I have a camera for that and there truly is a picture anytime and everywhere. I'll confess that I like all the stuff that happens leading up to 5 o’clock. Anytime after that is just the icing.
It’s good to know were right on track. Were never really sure what to expect from parenting, but there are something’s that seem to be par for the course. My 9 year old boy seems to have a healthy obsession with Nerf guns, video games and the great outdoors. In the evolution game, boys need to protect, experience adventure and forage in the forest for food, so I guess Peter is right on track in a modern sense of things. My eleven-year old daughter plays the role of the teacher and nurturer to perfection. As she does this, her friends are always an arms length away ready when needed. “Us” girls, do stick together is so true with Kate. She holds her friends close to her heart and trusts them to guide her along the way. No teacher goes it alone, and she has learned that already. While they talk about boys, dreams and the life in front of them, they bounce it all off of each other, looking for consensus and trying to avoid conflict. I find comfort knowing that Kate has been able to keep her friends since the beginning. Her consistency makes me realize that she had become independent and able to handle life on her own because she knows there are people she can trust out there. While we’re always there for her, she need not only depend on her immediate family, because she has connected with the world. In the same way, she has an inner calm that needs no one else. I look forward to seeing her fly and experience a great life, because in one way or another, someone has her back.
Yesterday, Peter had his last John Lyman field trip. It felt like a right of passage for both of us. For him, it marks the end of his elementary years and for me, it brings nostalgia of so many people that I truly care for. We went to the Bronx zoo. It isn’t until things are gone that you realized what you have missed. I spent 4 years studying across the street at Fordham University. Wednesdays were free days at the zoo, so I would often go for runs through the paths surrounded by exotic wildlife. Back then, I would enjoy a glance at the giraffes, or the lions up on the great hill, but it wasn’t until I got into photography that I would truly appreciate this amazing place. I now get Jane Goodall, the woman who found herself living among the great gorillas who could never seem to part from them. I didn’t have her luxury of time as I was ushered by two boys from one exhibit to another. It was fascinating to see how creatures of the animal world share so many of our own traits minus the issues of self-consciousness(see prostate exam below). The Gorillas entertained their human counterparts that were glued to the plexiglass watching them romp around. Seeing their hands, facial expressions and human-like gestures made you feel like you were looking in the mirror. The longer you stayed to watch, the more you felt connected. Colorful birds, elephants, wild dogs and snakes were all part of the menagerie and I left feeling we had only touched the surface. I will go back someday armed with a tripod. As I am happy that the plexiglass kept the humans from being eaten, I wish we had no barriers so I could get a clean shot. How lucky are we to have a jungle of animals among the urban jungle of Fordham Road. How lucky Peter was to have enjoyed the experience with his best friends. I really can’t wait to go back someday.
Sometimes when i'm busy at work, I turn towards my window and see this. He never fails to make me smile. I wonder to myself, "How much is that doggie in the window?" The answer....Priceless.
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