Mother's Day

Emily and I, last weekend in NY

 Before I had Emily, my vision of motherhood and parenthood went something like this: Chris and I would be working parents, with 2-3 children, each about two years apart in age.  We would share our days over dinner, and spend our evening doing homework and sharing bedtime stories. I would give birth naturally, and nurse/pump at work. We would save money to pay for college for each kid, and take yearly vacations to some place new and exotic.  We would have family portraits taken that reflected our abundant joy. 

It was a commercial.  A cliche. 

Chris and I waited to have kids.  We were married for several years before deciding we were ready.  We had a financial plan for me to be home for about 6 months.  I always felt strongly that while motherhood was great, I also needed something else to define me (work).  When we finally felt we were ready, I expected to be pregnant in the blink of an eye.  After all, isn't that how it appears to happen?

Well it didn't happen.  And it took much longer than expected.  Much longer then planned.  And once we were pregnant, it was about 4 months of bliss in my fairy-tale cliche until Emily was diagnosed with spina bifida.

And that's when all my plans changed.  I spent the much of the remainder of the pregnancy in a constant state of worry, stress, and sadness.  We delivered her via scheduled c-section in another state, at a hospital 600 miles away.  She had 3 major surgeries in two different hospitals by the time she was 20 days old.  I thought her shunt was failing every single day.  A nurse was coming in the home to help us cath.  Emily wasn't latching on and I was failing at breastfeeding.  I was a new mom (scary enough), to a child who had a host of medical and developmental challenges.  We had no idea what her future looked like.  Everything that was familiar, like my relationship with Chris, was different and unfamiliar.  I felt like an outsider among other moms.  We lost friends and people who didn't know what to say or how to help.  I never returned to work.  I didn't finish my last semester of graduate work to earn my Master's in English. 

Instead, and over time, I became someone new.  Someone I hadn't planned on becoming.  Someone better. 

Emily, on her birthday, 12 hours after delivery.  My first time seeing her since the delivery, and my first time touching her.

I became Emily's mom. 

I owe Emily for making me a Mommy, and giving me new perspective on Motherhood, and on life.  

Motherhood is knowing what is best for your child and going to the ends of the earth to achieve it.  It is learning you are stronger than you ever thought.  Motherhood is taking on roles you never knew possible: a stay at home mom, a nurse, a doctor, a physical therapist, an occupational therapist, a speech therapist, a researcher, a fighter, a marathoner.  It is watching the strength of your own child with pure awe and amazement. Motherhood is learning from your child, and becoming someone new because of your child.  Motherhood is falling in love with a miracle. It is terribly heart wrenching, yet overwhelmingly beautiful at the same time.

Motherhood is learning that perfection is subjective, and what you once thought makes someone beautiful, does not.  Motherhood is learning things that seem important, like walking, are not what make someone important.  It is learning that endurance, hard work, compassion, kindness, support, and encouragement are things of true beauty and consequence.  Motherhood is seeing through your daughter’s eyes, what is important in life and what is not.

Motherhood is an honor.  It is a blessing.  It fills you with is pride.  It is looking in your child’s eyes and seeing her soul.  Motherhood is knowing there is nothing more profound than the love you have for your child. 

Thank you, Emily, for showing me the world through your eyes.  It is a much more loving, fascinating, beautiful place then I every could have imagined.

Emily and with her Godmother, my sister, 1 week old at CHOP

Chris, Emily at 17 days - the one day she was home her first month - and Chris' Mom

1.5 months old.  Emily with my mom, and my Grammy, whom I miss dearly.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there of all walks of life, and to those missing their mom, or missing their children; and those who wish to be mom.  And of course happy Mother's Day to all the aunts, Godmothers, Grandmothers, and mother-figures in our lives.

The thing is...

I have a pretty vivid imagination. I day dream a lot. I have a lot of anxiety over almost everything. In my head I'm always playing out how things may go and reviewing each case scenario. I'm home with a 31 month old and don't get much of any adult face-to-face interaction on a daily basis unless you count therapists.

All these personality traits lead me to be...over sensitive? Paranoid? Stressed out about everything (including things that haven't happened/haven't played out yet)? Yes. Add in being a special needs parent and boy, is it a crazy world in here.

Lately I have been so aggravated with some companies and organizations who refuse to return phone calls or answer emails or tie up loose ends. As the consumer or donor, I shouldn't have to beg a company to give them my business, however it seems that's what it has come down to.

And I find myself asking...is this just how business is now conducted? Or is this how business is conducted when you use words like "special needs" or "disabled"?

I have recently been trying to get Emily into more groups and programs that aren't special needs based. We go to a music class about every other week and she loves it. The past two weeks I have contacted 3 places.

The first one was the Michael Phelps Swim School. We want to get Emily more involved with swim. Before signing her up I had to call with some questions. As a parent of a non-special-needs kid I would likely call with some questions, but as a parent on a SN child it is a MUST. I needed to know the pool temp (too cold her leg muscles will tighten and she won't to any leg movement=lessons are a waste; I know this my experience as this is the third swim program we have tried). I need to know if an instructor is in the pool with us. I need to know if they are teaching things related to swim (going under, floating etc) or if this is just a glorified playgroup early Sunday mornings in the water (something I am not interested in).

And, I need to make them aware of Em's latex allergy, and her medical background. Because frankly, it seems irresponsible not to disclose medical information to a group she's joining when the group has physical activities.

So the gentleman who answered the during-business-hours call was very polite, encouraging, knowledgeable, and helpful. As a result, I registered and coughed up the money. Sunday was the first lesson. Emily seems to enjoy it and it's what we are looking for (although I will say, the instructor wanted nothing to do with my attempts to speak with her before the lesson to explain that Em cannot kick on command etc which led to some uncomfortable moments in the pool when she was working with Emily 1-on-1 telling her to "kick - kick harder!" But I digress...)

After I called and spoke to the very helpful gentleman at MPSS I called a very popular gymnastics facility here in Williamsville, and a very popular Yoga studio that has a studio downtown and in Williamsville (is it PC to disclose the company names? Maybe not? I guess I won't.)

I called the gymnastics facility, learning this facility may have a group for toddlers led by a PT. I was super excited because Emily has recently started pulling to stand and also climbing on and over things. She also seems to be a bit of a daredevil and what better place to fall (safely) then in a gym?

So I called up Stumpfs...whoops, I mean undisclosed-gymnastics-place during regular business hours and also at a time where, based on the website, they have classes going on so that I could talk to a human.

No answer.

I tried back 5 more times throughout the day. No answer. I found this puzzling then figured maybe they screen all there calls so I'd leave a message.

I'm not a huge fan of leaving messages because I have a lot of info to leave. I had lots of questions for the gym given Emily's latex allergy and her shunt/mobility. So maybe they found all this annoying? Maybe. But our free time is valuable. Emily has 6 therapy sessions a week (plus music....and now swim lessons). So If I am going to book her up even more, it can't be a waste of time or money, because we don't have the time or money for that.

Or did they not like hearing "cannot walk unassisted" and "has a few developmental delays"?

So yeah, they never called me back and I guess I'll never know, so I can instead just draw my own conclusions based on being totally blown off. Gracias!

I also called the Yoga studio. Emily LOVES doing yoga with me...she adapts her own moves and it is so cute. I thought...what better than to get her in a group with peers, and add some kid stuff like roaring like lions? And, how holistic would kiddo-yoga be for her health and strength!? So I called with a few questions. The ?receptionist was difficult to hear and she was not able to give me any information on the Yoga Sprouts group. She noted I'd need to speak to the instructor. Great! Only, the instructor wasn't there. I left my name (after spelling it for her three times) and phone number.

I didn't hear anything for a few days, and seeing as how I had by then already scrapped the gymnastics idea and gotten all hyped up over yoga, I sent the instructor an email with my questions and interest.

The next day I received a call back from the same woman I originally spoke with on the phone. She told me she had my name and number written down but couldn't remember why I called. Um, okay. So I repeated everything and mentioned I had sent an email but haven't heard anything. She said she'd pass my info along (again) and gave me an excuse as to why the instructor hadn't responded to my email, and then assured me I would her something.

Fast forward 8 days and here I am...no response, yet again. In my head I'm fired up. Is this because they don't INCLUDE everyone? Can't they be professional and at least SPEAK with me before slamming the door? I should also note yesterday I forwarded the original email I sent to the instructor, to the yoga studio's general info email address, asking yet again to speak with someone about enrollment, and I still haven't heard anything.

**Update:

I just received a phone call this afternoon. The instructor was quick to tell me that "of course they welcome kids of all needs and disabilities" and then also quickly said the class is "almost full" and only has one spot, and is drop off, and they basically don't have parents in the room. She also wasn't sure that that environment, with 7-8 kids would best suit Emily.

Obviously I'm pretty disappointed...and I tried to process everything real time and take notes. She did say she offers private instruction in home/at studio which isn't necessarily a bad idea...except the class would have been $60 for 6 classes and I want Emily in a group setting. Private instruction is $45 for one 40-minute session. There was some discussion of if she ever has an assistant in the class, then someone could be there to help Emily. She also mentioned that if I get 4-5 other kids rounded up she can start a second class/have a smaller kid to teacher ratio. I'm thinking when Emily is a bit older to figure out how to make her own on-the-fly body adaptations for moves and poses I can look back into Yoga. I did look of some stuff on adaptive Yoga and it is out there...in Florida, California, and Massachusetts. Looks like it's an amazing thing. There is a man by the name of Matthew Sanford who has been paralyzed since age 13 and he has developed a whole adaptive yoga program. Further research to be done. I'm no Yogi but it looks like I'll be teaching Em some poses via web-based adaptive research for the time being.

Three years later...

Our Society is obsessed with perfection. It is a quest for the perfect body. The perfect job. The perfect house. The perfect life.

The perfect baby.

Today is the 3 year anniversary of Emily's Spina Bifida diagnosis. Three years ago, at 18 weeks gestation, we were told our perfect baby was not perfect. This anniversary is always difficult for Chris and I because it was the darkest day of our life, followed by the darkest period.

But from that darkness has come the most perfect, beautiful result.

In today's society words, beliefs, and view points continue to facilitate a need for perfection, while at the same time reinforcing the idea that imperfection cannot be tolerated. Look at the termination rates for Down Syndrome; they are estimated at 90%. 9 out of 10. The termination rates for Spina Bifida, while difficult to track down and pinpoint, are at 48% (I have used a study done in 2009, the year Emily was diagnosed and born). A 50-50 chance to make your mark in the world.

The bottom line: there is a dark cloud hovering over our society that suggests people with disabilities or who are cognitively delayed or who are medically fragile do not belong. Since our diagnosis, I have known this is the belief of some medical professionals. There is this perception that a disabled child, or a mentally challenged child, will only have a miserable life. That they would be a burden. Doctors use terms like "poor quality of life" or "a life different that yours". They tell vulnerable, crushed parents that their child is less than perfect.

And then they tell you what the solution is to the imperfection.

Campaigns like Spread the Word to End the Word work hard to bring about awareness of disability slurs and how they contribute to shaping the misconceptions and oppression and violence towards individuals who may be disabled or cognitively delayed. Often press coverage of a person with a disability or permanent medical condition will say "...Emily, who suffers from Spina Bifida, is two years...", just reinforcing the idea that someone with a disability cannot possibly lead a happy life, but just suffers through it.

Through social cues and norms in media, print, and web, misconceptions about special needs are rampant and shaping how people view individuals with these needs. The majority of the time Emily is out with her walker we encounter staring, questions, and an assumption that she is to be pitied (through pitiful "awwww", "tsking" and a load of "God love her/God pray for her/God Bless her"). Using a wheelchair, a walker, or forearm crutches, doesn't equal misery. But that is all too often the perception.

I was reading this NY Times Article written by blogger Amy Julia Becker, and I made the mistake of reading the comments. Below are direct quotes from the 200-comments section of the article, with most comments shocking me:

"What a naive bit of nonsense! No parent should welcome a mentally or physically defective baby that will grow up to a burden on society. No society should either."

“The ones who suffer? The SMART kids. Only a deeply self-destructive society dumps all of its resources into a population that, frankly, isn’t going to show a return on the investment.”

These comments clearly speak for themselves. But what's frightening to me is, these people are lurking all around. Sometimes their bigotry is direct, and sometimes it's veiled. Sometimes this is what is in their heart, even though they don't say it to your face.

I realize now, three years later, that the scariest thing about bringing Emily into the world is not her diagnosis. It is not the doctor's appointments, the therapies, the delays, the worries about her.

The scariest thing is knowing what's out there in the world. It's thoughts and beliefs as exemplified from comments quoted above.

The thing is, those dangers would still exist, Spina Bifida diagnosis or not. It is Chris' and my job to teach Emily about the world, and with that comes both good and bad. But Chris and I are proud to be parents of an individual who has the qualities we hope to be instilling in Emily. I look forward to knowing the adolescent and adult Emily is going to grow into. I am so thankful for a family that supports and shares our views, and for a Spina Bifida community and organizations that understands and are working hard to help correct misconceptions.

We will sleep at night knowing that that the foundation we are giving Emily lets her know she is an equal. She is kind. She is thoughtful. She is smart. She is considerate. She is valuable. She is an individual.

She is loved.

And that she has always been, and will always be, welcome in this world.

NYC Marathon 2011 - In the Books!

Hopefully you stopped by the Babykeicher Blog to read the marathon recap! But there are a few more details I'd like to share. Important ones...like what we were wearing!

This is Emily's Team Shirt - thank you to team member Mandy and her family for embroidering the shirt. I might get a little frame for it, like how signed professional jersey's are framed? Too cute to leave it in her drawers.



You'll see my team shirt below, but here's a little detail - a dragonfly on my shoulder. I had the same one on last year's shirt.



This was an ad outside the Expo on Friday. It was great to see all the billboards and buses and signs around the city. It really helped grow the excitement for the impending race.





The marathon attracts a high volume of runners from around the world. In 2010, Italy had the highest volume of runners with 3780. France had 3244 runners, Germany had 2369, Great Britain had 2367, Netherlands had 1571, Canada had 1500...and the list goes on from there





On our way out of the expo I noticed the forecast - a beautiful day on tap for Sunday!



The first New York City Marathon, though, was a humble affair. In 1970, 127 runners paid the $1 entry fee to NYRR to participate in a 26.2-mile race that looped several times within Central Park. Fifty-five runners crossed the finish line. Six years later the course was redrawn through all five New York boroughs, and it had 2,090 runners lined up at the start for the chance to run from Staten Island through Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx to Manhattan.

In 2000, NYRR added an official wheelchair division to the marathon. Now the ING New York City Marathon has grown to become one of the most competitive wheelchair marathons anywhere in the world, with more than 200 wheelchair and handcycle athletes. In addition, a wide variety of ambulatory athletes with disabilities participate.














I came in 32,635 place; placed 9913 in my gender, and 1862 in my age (and, next year I move to the next age bracket, which hopefully helps my placing)

My overall pace was 11:05 (goal was 10:41. I had run all my long runs at the 10:41 pace, including all my "longer long runs": 2 22-mile runs, 2 20-mile runs, and 3 18-mile runs ). Here's the breakdown of my pace along the course:

5K 10:43.90 - I expected to be a few seconds off ace the first two miles by conserve energy, not going out too fast, and focusing on navigating the thousands of runners around me.

10K 10:47.76 - too far off. I made a conscious effort to make up some time, but conservatively.

15K 10:44.48

20K 10:45.10

13.1 miles/half point 10:46.41 (2:21:08 actual against a 2:19 goal) At the half way point I made the decision not to make up the three minutes I was off. I knew the Pulaski Bridge was coming up (which was fine/no biggie), BUT, the Queensboro was right around the corner at about 14.4 miles.

25K 10:49.72

Oh Queensboro. The elevation is not nearly as severe at the Verrazano. The Verrazano reaches and elevation level of 250 feet just before the 1 mile mark. But it doesn't seem bad at all... when you have well-rested legs carrying you AND the adrenalin of starting the race. By mile 14...well, your legs/body is getting tired, and mentally you are in a different zone. Max elevation on the Queensboro is 140 feet. And the downhill portions is killer - a steep decline, and sharp turns. By the time I cruised onto First Avenue, but of my calves were killing me. They felt like they had exploded and blown through my skin. I spent the remainder of the race running through the cramps and pain.

30K 10:53.98

35K 11:00.19 Despite the fact that I was really running hard, the Garmin was not my friend and I saw my pace time get higher and higher. BUT, I knew I was pushing hard, giving it my all.

40K 11:03.53

26.2 miles 11:05 (4:49:59 finish time)

I finished right in the middle of our team. Team member Mandy had the fastest time of 4:01 (9:13 pace!) and my sister Katie was came in at 4:13. Congrats to both of them on some amazing times!

From there, I finished behind two teammates who had finishing times of 4:42 and 4:45. The Monday after the Marathon the NY Times published the names of all runners who finish under 4:30, but often they will publish later times if they can still meet the press deadline...and this year they published more times and I made the cut! It was awesome to see "E. Keicher 4:49:59" in print!





The event attracts more than 2 million spectators and is broadcast internationally. It produces about $340 million in economic activity for the city according to a study produced by the New York Road Runners, which hosts the event.




Marathon Monday, 6:30 AM. Reflecting on the race. Trying to grapple with knowing all that hard work was for yesterday...and it's done. Mixed emotions: elation that it's over, and that I hit sub 4:50. Sad that it's over, that the moment has passed. Thinking about next year's marathon.








The financial impact from the NYC Marathon is estimated to be 300 million. In 2010 $30.8 million was raised for 86 Charities.

Heading back to Hoboken after Marathon Monday. Thinking about the 6 hour car drive home...



Line 'em up: a bevy of Asics Gel Kayano's. Last year's marathon sneaks, this year's training pair, and the second training pair (and the ones I wore for the run), and my new kicks on the right.






The picture on my header are the pair on the right, purchased at the Expo. These limited edition shoes have the sweet "NYC 2011" markers on the back, the marathon emblem on over the laces...



And a map of the course...always just under your feet, even once the marathon has passed.



So we drove back home Monday and Emily and I took the week off: from physical therapy, from aquatherapy, from speech, from occupational therapy, from doctors appointments, from cleaning, from running, from spinning (well, I did run Thursday and Saturday and went to 1 spin) and just hung out. We baked a lot, and had a nice celebration dinner with my Mom on Tuesday.

It was glorious.

And Saturday night Chris and I went out, for an indulgent evening. I was decked out, new dress and all...and wouldn't you know it, half way through our dinner at Tempo they seated a table across from us and the woman had on the same exact dress (hers was minus the belt...). What are the chances!






We had 9 team member this year on Team Take That!, and each one crossed the finish line. Collectively we raised $51207.65 for the Spina Bifida Association. The team had 5 parents who have children with Spina Bifida. What an amazing testament to Emily, Joshua, Max, Hayden, and Brenden, about how much they have inspired and motivated us and friends/family. Considering the average age of the kids we represented was three and a half, that is quite an accomplishment for these kiddos.

It makes me happy to think about just how much they will have accomplished by the time their average age is 20...or 55...or 80.

I want to say Thank you to everyone who donated to our fund raising. We raised $6450.20 in honor of Emily. So many of you gave, and gave generously, to show Emily that her cause is am important one. I want to say Thanks to Chris, and my Mom, who put up with my ridiculous training schedule and demands, for helping with Emily so I could run and go to the gym; and for putting up with the marathonmarathonmarathon talk the past 5 months. I want to say thanks to Team Take That! for working so hard to raise this money, and give up their time and energy to train for the marathon, raise money for, and educate other's about Spina Bifida.

In just 2 years, $85,000 has been raised for the SBA through the marathon efforts. Thank you to my sister Katie, who was the brain child behind all this and enabled this to happen. As a result of the success of the NYC Marathons, the SBA is now an official charity partner for the September 2 2012 Kauai Marathon. They have an unlimited number of spots (which is awesome; for NY we have a limited number and essentially have 5 spots permanently taken) - if you, or someone you know, would like to run the full (or half) Kauai Marathon this September on behalf of the Spina Bifida Association, please email me (elizabeth_webb1976@yahoo.com) and I will answer any questions and put you in contact with the SBA.

Lucky

Today I took Emily to the Science Museum. I like taking her there because it's pretty wide open, so she can use her walker with relative ease. She also loves the stuffed Buffalo and Bear, and especially the Red and Grey Fox.

I have been trying hard as of late to let comments "roll off me". Emily's only getting older, and I don't want her being hurt or offended or taking comments to heart. It's a difficult balance because I want her to receive the respect and dignity she deserves. I have taken to calling people out when staring longer than 10 seconds by interceding their gaping mouth and glare at Emily (or interceding their pity side head turn and frowny sad-face) by stepping between them and Emily, looking them dead in the eyes and saying "I KNOW! Isn't she adorable/beautiful" or "She's having a GREAT hair day today, isn't she?". This came at the recommendation of a mom from aquatherapy and I like it because, when Emily reaches the point where she realizes people stare at her I'm simply going to tell her it's because she has unbelievable natural beauty.

I mean, it IS true. She is gorgeous.

But waning off the stupid comments, now that's going to be a bit harder.

I've spoken about this before. In the circle of special needs mommies and daddies there is much written about this, how-tos for people and what-not-to-say. I find it remarkable that adults need a how-to-NOT-make-an-offensive-comment-about-a-child manual, but apparently I give people too much credit. I understand that many people see us, and pity us. They feel bad, they make an assumption about what our life might be, and then they feel bad about that, so to make themselves feel better, they start rationalizing things. It's ridiculous. We don't want your pity, we have quite a fabulous life.

Often people think expectation is that I should put myself in the other person's shoes. That others don't know about SB, or about walkers, and so it's okay for them to say out loud in front of my child, offensive or stupid things about my child or my child's walking aids.

So back to the Science Museum. We had just finished watching a 3-D movie on Africa and polished off a $4.50 bag of Cheese-its, and were heading back up the hallway to the main part of the museum to find the elevator and get to floor 2. As we came around a corner a museum employee saw us. The second she laid eyes on us, she tilted her head to the side and said "aaawwwww." And no, it was not the "awe" that means "you are freaking adorable". It was the "awwwww" that means "I pity you." I braced myself, bent over to move the walker a wee bit faster and to avert eye contact, and said to myself please, say no more.

But alas, she kept it up as we got closer. "I need one of those!" (I hear that every single time we go out. No joke, 100% of the time) and then just as she was next to us, walking into her office, she stopped and said "You know..."

Ugh. Nothing good ever comes of a sentence that starts with "You know...".

"You know...you are lucky. She is lucky. That she's is in... that."

Now, I KNOW I am lucky. I wouldn't change anything about Emily - But I'm not lucky because she's in a walker. That might be the most ludicrous statement I've every heard. Who ever thinks let alone says that someone is lucky to not have the ability to walk???

And then she offered an explanation, presumable because at this point my jaw was lying on the floor. Or maybe because, she hadn't quite made each of us feel as uncomfortable as we could feel.

"You probably never have to carry her! Other kids probably tire from walking since they do it on their own. Then the parents have to carry them. But THAT thing does everything! She's lucky it does the work!"

Yeah. Are you essentially calling my kid lazy? I mean, it's not like my kid's knees buckle under her little body weight. And it's not like she's using every ounce of her muscles in her core, arms, hands, thighs, ankles, and afo's to stay upright. You're right - she's LUCKY that instead of standing on her own - or even walking- that she has to use a walker.

The problem with all this is, the bottom line is, she, like everyone else who has made a stupid comment, looked past my child and only saw her as disabled. She looked PAST my child and only saw a disability. And then she wanted to rationalize her own uncomfortable feelings about it.

That's the part in all this that kills me.

Week 3: 16 weeks to go

16 weeks. 110 days to go till Team: "Take That!" takes on the NYC Marathon, and brings in our goal of $50,000 to the National Spina Bifida Association.

Don't you LOVE the wheel?! Thanks to Hayden's super Mommy, Adrienne Trigg, for creating this image for the team.

This is week 3 of training. The past two weeks have gone well, with the heat and humidity as the biggest hurdles. I mean, it's Buffalo - aren't we supposed to have mind summers? This week the forecast has 4 days at 90+ degrees. Lats night at 11:30 PM there was still an air quality alert going on.

Needless to say, my mile times the past two weeks have been less than what I thought they'd be. I'm running slower then I did in April and May, and I was doing very little work back then.

This week was supposed to be my first super-long run, 18 miles. I knocked it down to 14 because I just don't think it's realistic to do 18 at this point, in this heat.

But I am getting pretty tan.

We need a lot of help with our fund raising effort. Thank you to those who have donated to us. We have to reach $5000 with less than 100 days to do so...please go the the SBA website here and make a tax-deductible donation to the SBA, choosing Elizabeth Keicher as your team captain. 100% of you donation goes right to the SBA. And I'll have the silicone bands to sell again this year in two weeks - hot pink, and royal blue, $3 each or 2 for $5. The bands will say:

Team Take That! NYC 11.6.11

This should be a fairly low key week for us, as the Lancaster Art/Craft show was yesterday, putting the past two weeks of craziness behind us. Now if only the website for sassydamsel.com would go live. We are having a meeting with our web designer on Wednesday (finger's crossed) and from there we should be looking at only a few more weeks (maybe even 1-2 weeks...though it's probably a huge jinx to say that...). And Chris and I have a date night this week, reclaiming our youth and seeing the (reunited only for one night) band the Tea Party this weekend.

Until next time!

Week 1: 18 weeks to go

Well today is day 1 of training for the marathon. As it turned out we were given TEN spots by NYRR for the NYC Marathon November 6th. Our team has 5 parents of kids with spina bifida (1 Dad, 4 Moms) and 5 friends/family of the team members. The kids were represent range in age from 1 year old to 9 years old, and there is 1 girl (Emily!) and 4 boys. We have runners from New York, West Virginia, New Jersey, Texas, and Arizona.

Each one of us must raise at least $2500 for the SBA, but the hope is that we each raise $5000 and come in with $50,000.

And so training began today. I thought each week I'd post the training plan. This week's total mileage is 30, with 4 spin classes and 4 days of weights/strength training. The long run is only 12 miles...but the 18 mile long run is just 3 weeks away!

No news yet on a date for when sassydamsel.com goes live. It's very frustrating to be at mercy of a website designer as I thought we would have launched by now, at the latest. In any event, we will be at the Lancaster Art Show July 17th, so if you are local come on out and see what we have! Many of the accessories I'm making will be exclusive to the event and will not be available through the website.

Happy 4th of July!