inside dog

In which I make a pie, then bake it into a cake.

2012-02-21T00:01:00-08:00

On Saturday my favorite person had a birthday.

"I'm thinking about starting a Christian speed metal band. Are ya in?"

And since he is The Best, I decided that I needed to do something Exciting! with his annual homemade birthday cake.

I've seen this whole "pie-baked-into-a-cake" thing going around the internet recently...

Source: eatingoutpartv.blogspot.com via Peter on Pinterest

Also here.

And I decided this is just the kind of crazy thing we need on a birthday in our family.

(I also decided that only one layer was necessary. I'm crazy, but not that crazy!)

After a brief quiz about what his favorite pie might be (blackberry), I decided it was SO ON. So I baked a blackberry pie, from scratch. The crust and everything. Am domestic diva, obvs.

Oh, it was a pretty pie. I almost regret DUMPING it into a cake pan!

Which is what I did. You just pour a little cake batter into the bottom of a 10-inch springform pan.

(Oh! And make sure that you HAVE a 10-inch springform pan, or your ENTIRE LIFE will fall apart while you are trying to pull together the last details of your husband's birthday while he's out running errands. The pie is made in a 9-inch pie plate. I only had a 9-inch springform pan. Which I discovered right before I went to turn out the pie. TOO SMALL! Then I frantically called my neighbors, none of whom were home, to see if THEY had a 10-inch springform pan. Also, John was out running errands with Syd, and had the car with both car seats. I was home with Elijah. I all but gave up until my neighbor came home, got my message, and ran over the proper pan. DAY SAVED!)

Pie flipped, check.

Batter poured over the pie, check. Also? EEK!

And now, the tricky part. How long to bake it? I chose to bake it 49 minutes, which is what the cake mix (hey, I can't make EVERYTHING from scratch!) instructed for a bundt cake. I should have baked it much longer, because when we cut into it, there was still some uncooked batter right next to the pie. This didn't bother my husband, who is a coneissuer of all things gooey. He really liked it!

Or at least he told me he did. Because he is the best!

Happy Birthday to John, and happy pie-in-a-cake to YOU!

Oh Variables, how you wear on me.

2012-02-19T10:40:41-08:00

Getting out of the house is bar none the hardest thing about raising young children for me. And it's not even the packing of the bag, the getting little people dressed, even putting on my requisite bra and baseball cap that is hard. It is not getting all of us fed. It is not getting us to the car. I feel ok about handling most of that daily (even though it is challenging. Oh lands, is it Challenging).

What is hard for me is the things that I can't plan for:

When my daughter flings her oatmeal across the table, surprising us both with how it arcs out of the bowl and goes everywhere.

When I find that my son has snuck into the bathroom (soon after he is fully dressed and ready to go) while I get his sister's shoes on and is happily splashing in the toilet. And is drenched.

When the basset hound escapes out of the kitchen and bolts to the back of my house and pees in my bathroom. And then before I can discover it, my daughter decides to IGNORE my instructions to use HER bathroom instead of mine and slips and falls in the dog pee, soils her entire outfit and somehow gets it in her HAIR and then needs a complete bath and change of clothes 5 minutes before we need to leave the house for school (and then I need a shower too, because I reek of bleach and dog pee).

The giant poopie blowout diaper that I discover as I'm buckling Elijah into his car seat.

When Syd runs off in the house 2 minutes after I've dressed her and comes back wearing her princess dress ... and nothing else.

The dumping of the lunch box as soon as it's made.

WHERE ARE MY KEYS?

WHERE IS MY PHONE?

WHERE IS MY WALLET?

WHY ISN'T THE STROLLER IN THE CAR?

ETCETERA.

It's driving me crazy. When I struggle into preschool late or barely make it to church with both kids under my arms, my hair still wet, our clothes askew, stuff thrown willy-nilly into a bag ... everyone else seems to have it together. Everyone else made it on time. And everyone else probably had things to deal with. Traffic. An alarm that didn't go off. Kids that were up all night. Kids that trashed their clothes or the house. Lost keys/phone/wallet. A misplaced stroller. A poopie situation. No clean jeans anywhere to be found. And yet? It seems like everyone else can make it where they need to go on time. They don't have to go back home and retrieve a forgotten water bottle for preschool. They don't show up everywhere AT LEAST 15 minutes late. They have their coffee made and their makeup on and their kids are dressed and fed and LA-TEE-DAH! "So glad you could make it!"

What the hell?

Yes, I know it's not true. I know that basically ALL of raising kids is variables. I know that other people are late and getting their asses handed to them at home. I know other people show up at preschool dropoff with their pajamas on and crusty eyes. But it doesn't feel that way. I never see (or notice) them. I don't know how people make it anywhere on time. I don't know how they always remember their grocery list at the store. I can't even remember to put on my wedding rings half the time. I find my coffee cup from the morning half drunk on the counter when I clear the dinner dishes at night. I can't even ever find my KEYS.

They should make pills for this.

Because Mama's weary.

Send help. And brownies.

2012-02-17T09:30:24-08:00

SO! Our schedule is all out of whack over here. My "spare" time is now spent running. If I can drag myself up out of bed at 7, and if I've prearranged with John, I can usually get out to run for an hour or so of marathon training. Mondays and Thursdays I usually have a 5-ish mile run. Tuesdays is a mid-length run at 6, 8, or 10 miles, then long runs with my running group (which has been pared down to 3-5 people since the half marathon ended) on Saturday. Last week we ran 18 miles. EIGHTEEN. Which is my explanation for why I have not run a single step since Saturday. For the first time in my training I have totally blown off running (but hey! That means I can write something!). And I will probably regret that as we have a 14-miler tomorrow.

Sydney has been officially "kicked out" of the jogging stroller during runs. A few weeks ago (on a Thursday, I think) I loaded up the kids and tried to run 5 miles. I gave her the iPad and 100 snacks and we still stopped 85 times in the first mile and a half, after which I was so frustrated that I just gave up and walked. This - added to the fact that she weighs about 36 pounds and makes the stroller extremely heavy - has put me in an awful predicament: I have to get up early to go on a run by myself.

This is really hard for me, because of this other flaw in our schedule which I shall refer to as "quiet time." Syd went through a phase after the holidays died down and after she recovered from pneumonia where she just up and quit napping. And because she is widely known as the loudest preschooler in all the land, and also is a kid who has a REALLY hard time entertaining herself because she is super social (just like her daddy!) (hi daddy!), her brother thus did not nap for nearly two weeks.

Let me just pause so this can sink in. No child napped in my house for nearly TWO WEEKS. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

For a three-and-a-half year old? That's probably ok. They start dropping naps at around this age and ok! That's fine. Normal. Whatever. But for my 15-month-old? No can do. It's already bad enough that he has never, ever napped twice in a day. You see, his sister is TOO LOUD and impossible to keep quiet and out of trouble while I rock a "special needs" sleeper in the other room. That's right! My youngest needs a perfectly quiet and dark situation to go to bed. I TRIED. I failed. And so everyone just took a massive nap after lunch and all was well. For a while.

And then all hell broke loose and well, measures had to be taken. I would like to also add that during this time Elijah developed a preference for Daddy. He would throw an insane baby tantrum if I tried to rock him to sleep at night or for a nap. DUDE. MAMA BE SCREWED HERE.

So. It was demanded that John be here to rock Elijah to sleep after lunch. Boom, done. I cannot believe how freaking easy that problem was to solve. Not that my husband had, like, work to do or something. OH WELL. Naptime must be honored!

And then there was the whole issue of my preschooler, who like clockwork was melting down at 5:30 every evening. Just in time for dinner! She would weep and moan through her meal and bathtime, then be in bed asleep at 6:30. Which sucked for everyone. What about our quality of life, huh? SO. My big plan was that John would put the baby down and I would "hang out" in Sydney's room with her for "rest time." I had a book and my phone with me on one of the beds in her room (we have two twin beds in her room), and she could read or futz around with her dolls on her bed. But I would IGNORE her, and she was not allowed to leave the room.

The first day she was all: "MOM. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" for about 20 minutes. I ignored her until she climbed up on my bed and jumped on me and hurt me. Then her butt got kicked to her bed. Within about 15 minutes she was snoring. The next day, same thing. I got into my bed with my book, she got into her bed with her books and dolls. And about 30 minutes later? She was asleep.

The problem? So was I! And I was again the next day, and the next. We were both getting good, solid 2-3 hour naps. I NEEDED those naps. Running takes it out of me, y'all, especially when I'm getting up early to run after my daughter has been up until 9:30 the night before. I kinda started looking forward to "rest time." But, unfortunately? When my kid got a 2-3 hour nap? That meant when bedtime came she wasn't tired and she'd be up until 9:30-10, up out of her bed 1,000 times for a drink of water, to "go potty," to "ask something." BAH. No bueno, vicious cycle, etc.

So I have this problem: We are in a new routine where we have a legit nap time again (and I get time to myself sometimes even!), but I need to figure out how to limit Syd's time asleep so that she goes to BED at night, but I also need to protect her poor brother, who goes to bed EASILY no matter how long he naps. Homeboy could seriously fall asleep at 2, wake up at 5:30, eat his dinner, take his bath, play a little, and go straight back to bed at 7:30. BLESS HIM. I also need to figure out how to keep MYSELF awake at rest time, which is no small feat.

And then there's this:

Why yes. That is my dining room table.

Problems. I haz them.

A to Z

2012-02-07T13:39:38-08:00

A. Age: 31

B. Bed size: Queen. And my husband just recently (after having this bed for, oh, SIX years?) told me that the blankets are too small for him. Like, if he pulls the blanket up to his chin then his feet are hanging out. DUDE.

C. Chore that you hate: Mopping the floor. Which is why it only gets done like once a month.

D. Dogs: Let's not go there, ok. YOU KNOW.

E. Essential start to your day: Coffee. 2 cups of the strong stuff.

F. Favorite color: Green.

G. Gold or silver: White gold.

H. Height: 5'4".

I. Instruments that you play: None. Unless you count the kids' xylophone, upon which I can play "Happy Birthday" and "Jingle Bells" like a BOSS.

J. Job title: Mom.

K. Kids: Sydney, age 3.5. Elijah, age 16 months.

L. Live: Los Angeles

M. Mother's name: Sally/Yaya

N. Nicknames: Manda. Girl. MAWMEEEEEE!

O. Overnight hospital stays: Having babies 2008 and 2010. Next to my husband in a recliner in 2008 when he almost died of a ruptured appendix.

P. Pet peeves: When the dog barks to come in 2 seconds after I let him out. When my husband leaves the freezer open ... overnight.

Q. Quote from a movie: "DRUGS ARE SO BAD!" Super 8

R. Right or left-handed: Righty

S: Siblings: My little sister Ash. Who is 27 and married and not little anymore but still! MY BABY SISTER!

T: Travel favorite: On a plane with no children. Thems was the days!

U. Underwear: I have some cute ones, but I never wear them in favor of the janky momderwear.

V. Vegetable(s) you hate: Olives. Do olives count as a vegetable? Every time I see a bowl of olives sitting on a table I try one, thinking maybe this time I'll like it! Nope! But I do like them as a topping on other things, such as pizza or enchiladas. Hmm.

W. What makes you run late: Oh, everything. I'm a late person and having kids has only made it worse.

X. X-rays you've had: Teeth?

Y. Yummy food that you make: I'm famous for making pots of beans with ham right now. Anything I make in my Le Creuset turns out pretty solid!

Z. Zoo animal: I do not like zoos, they make me sad!

The one where I run a half marathon (and live to tell the tale!)

2012-01-30T15:53:02-08:00

I can hardly believe it's been more than two weeks since I ran the LA 13.1 on January 15. In the last two weeks I've been doing a lot of recovery, both physically and mentally. A few days before the race I had a really discouraging "one last jog" with my sister. We only ran four miles, but I felt like absolute crap the entire time. My legs were heavy and tired, and I was pretty bent out of shape mentally about it. I'm ashamed to admit that somewhere around mile three I exclaimed "Why do I feel like total shit right now!?" And my sister, who is my buddy who loves me, reminded me that it had been a hectic week with the kids.

I love my sister!

Sydney - as I've mentioned before - developed bacterial pneumonia the Wed. before the race, and didn't really sleep well or eat much for the entire week before the race. And because my husband was planning a team dinner for the night before the race and a finish line tent for the day of the race, he was really only home to sleep a few hours that entire week. Thank goodness for my family, you guys. My sister, her husband, and my mom kept us floating like you wouldn't believe. My kitchen was clean, the coffee was always brewed, my son was hugged and kissed and loved up, food was on the table, even the laundry kept moving while I tended to my daughter and fussed about the house in an exhausted stupor and John worked overtime to meet his deadlines.

And then suddenly it was the night before the race. We went to the AMAZING team dinner. We picked up our race packets, cheered one another on, and heard from our friend Lopez Lomong. His story will rock you to the core.

Me with my running buddy (and fellow preschool mama) Jenny at the team dinner.

And suddenly it was time to trek back home. We paced around the house, fetching this from here and that from there. We laid out our race outfits, set our clocks for 4 o'clock the following morning, and crawled nervously into bed.

Somehow I made it. Somehow I got up when my alarm went off (I took Benadryl to stave off the nerves that threatened to keep me awake all night and I miraculously got some sleep). I pulled on my gear and shoes, drank my coffee. At five I went out in the cold black to get the babysitter and by 5:30 we were in the car headed to the start of the race (and by the way? LA at 5:30 in the morning is a CINCH traffic-wise! I made it from our house to Venice Beach (usually at least 40 mins), in about 25. We got a sweet parking spot and started walking up.

I know I'm about to sound like a total wimp, but dang? It. Was. COLD. And by God? I needed to go to the bathroom.

And then there we were. Standing in our pace group, waiting to start the race.

I don't mind telling you that we quickly did a little math and decided that an 11-minute-ish miles would put us at about a 2:40 finish. We headed to the 2:40 sign and waded through what seemed like a sea of orange jerseys (about 800 of the 3,000 runners were running with Team World Vision!). We high-fived our friends and bounced around and took a lot of dorky photos.

Then we ran.

The race itself was in one word? AWESOME. The course was beautiful ... most of it was on the beach! It even took us down the beach path near our house that we run on all the time! Around mile 6 I had to hit a port-a-potty (but my sister waited for me! Because she's awesome!), I completely missed the 8 mile marker because I was struggling up an incline, and mile 9 was the worst. It HURT. I started fading again around mile 12, but then the most awesome thing happened: John had run up from the finish line tent to find us! He ran the last mile in with me and my sister. And because he's John, he started ENCOURAGING me to PICK IT UP. Like "COME ON MANDA PICK IT UP!" and my sister was trotting along ahead of me smiling and high-fiving people and laughing and looking pretty crisp and me? Well, no. I was not crisp. My legs hurt. My feet hurt. I was hungry (what is that about?!) and tired. I had nothing left. I just wanted to finish.

But then I started getting mad. And I saw that I had about 5 minutes left to finish the last bit of the race in 2:30.

And suddenly? I WANTED THAT.

I thought about all the training I'd done. I thought about all of you who have cheered me on. I thought about the kids in Africa who would get clean water, and how hard it had been for them before YOU pitched in and helped. I thought, "You freaking KNOW WHAT, Manda? YOU CAN DO THIS." And I started picking up the pace. No matter that the last stretch of the race was on a downhill. No matter that John was running with me exclaiming "GIRL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU ARE KICKING BUTT RIGHT NOW!" and my sister was off in front high fiving people and whooping it up.

I was in some sort of crazy fury. And guys? It wasn't pretty. I was actually SCREAMING. And not like "AHHH!" but like grunt-screaming with this horrid grimace on my face. I didn't look at anyone as people cheering and yelled at the finish. I just kept my eyes on the clock and ran as fast as I freaking could. Don't believe me?

Holy crap I just put that out there.

And you thought I was kidding about my sister acting like she hadn't just run a lot of freaking miles. OH NO SHE DID NOT. Those goobers.

Too tired to hold up my own medal.

But I CAN hold up the In-N-Out I got at the Team World Vision finish line tent! Best burger I've ever eaten in MY LIFE.

I can't say enough about how amazing this experience was for me. From the beginning, when I asked people to help with clean water and the answer was a resounding YES, to training with the stroller and running with my husband, to making t-shirt scarves (not done yet! I'm so sorry for those of you who are still waiting!), to running with my sister, all of it has been a life-changing experience. And the crazy thing about it is that this was only the beginning. Since the race ended I have been continuing my training to get ready for the marathon and this past Saturday I ran 15 miles, the longest I've ever run at one time in my life.

I am learning that much of the work is still before me, but the work I have done up to this point matters. Even the small training runs matter, just like even a few dollars matter in terms of clean water in Africa. I don't know how it happened, but I've become a runner again. I don't see myself ever stopping while I can lace up my shoes. And I'm nothing special. I'm not an athlete. I'm probably never going to run a 6 minute mile again or have abs of steel. But this is something I can do. I am so glad that I can do it as a mother. That my kids get into that stroller and know that Mama goes running. I'm proud to talk to my daughter about why I run, about who I'm running for. I can hardly wait until the day when she (and her brother too!) is big enough to come out running beside me.

Thank you for going on this journey with me. The half marathon is finished, but the marathon is coming! If you want to help provide people in Africa with clean water but haven't had the chance yet, there is still time! Just $50 is enough to provide one person with clean water for the rest of his or her life in Africa, but ANY amount helps. A donation of $26.20 or more gets you a free t-shirt scarf! You can also join Team World Vision and RUN! For more info about how to run a half or full marathon in a city near you, go here.

Coming up short.

2012-01-25T16:50:24-08:00

I have a lot to say. I have a lot of catching up to do. I have things to tell you about the 13.1 miles I ran a week and a half ago!

But right now I'm just ... empty.

Our life is a little crazy right now. Right before the race Sydney developed bacterial pneumonia in her left lung. She was pretty sick for two weeks, and for the record having a doctor look me in the eye and tell me that my daughter most definitely had pneumonia is now on my "Worst Moments In Life" list. My family came into town to celebrate Christmas with us and to run and volunteer at the race. And now we are back to the grind of preschool and activities. I can't seem to catch my breath. I can't seem to get ahead. My house is a wreck. The kids randomly quit napping last week and go to bed at 6:30 because I don't have the fight to wrestle them back into routine right now. John is working long hours and has set up an office in the garage. We do a lot of stepping around each other these days and it sucks, both of us trying to get ahead on work and failing miserably. Today Sydney cut a chunk out of her own bangs at school and so I had to spend the afternoon at the kids' hair salon getting her bangs whacked a LOT too short to even out the damage.

I am tired. And now I'm training for a marathon. And that's daunting and in my face and I keep waiting to wake up one morning and feel rested and walk into a clean kitchen and be all ready to put my shoes on and tackle it but I need to somehow square with the facts: It ain't gonna happen. At least not anytime soon. I am going to run tired. My kids are going to wake up in the night before I have to do a long run. I'm not going to feel like running sometimes. I am going to have to fight for this. I feel accomplished for running the half marathon but I am also very aware that it's not enough right now. This journey is not even close to finished.

I want to keep my mind on the fight.

I want to keep running.

But I also want to crawl under a rock and hide for a week.

I don't know what this is. I keep wondering if maybe it's normal to get depressed after you run a big race. I keep thinking that maybe I'll be able to turn a corner soon and find a spare minute to write my Big! Race! Post! But life is piling up hard these days, man.

Hope to get out from under the pile soon.

Love,

Manda

The home stretch

2012-01-14T08:37:12-08:00

Yesterday my sister and I took a final spin around the neighborhood before the race on Sunday: 4 miles.

"Just four miles!" We said to one another as we put on our shoes and headed out the door. The sun was shining. The kids were napping. This'll be easy! Fun, even!

I couldn't have been more wrong.

A mile in my legs started aching. My mouth was dry. I was struggling.

Bewildered, I shouted out "WHY DO I FEEL SO CRAPPY?" It was only four miles. What. The. Heck. Why were my legs so heavy? Why did I feel so slow?

My sister replied: "Tough week, Manda. It's been crazy."

And she's right. Syd came down with a fever last Sunday, which quickly developed into a cough, which robbed her of sleep and her appetite and finally when I took her to urgent care on Wed. after the temperature wouldn't abate and she wasn't getting any better and they diagnosed her with pneumonia in her left lung you could have knocked me over with a feather.

She started to get back to her old self Thursday night. But her body is all thrown off because she's not doing her usual activities and is taking these monster 4-hour naps, so she hasn't fallen asleep until past 9 pm the last two nights.

My family is in town visiting (and my mom and sister are running the half with me!), and John has been working around the clock making the final preparations for the race weekend. I've been on parental duty around the clock for nearly two weeks. I'm the one getting up in the night pretty much every night. I'm the one holding Sydney down and squirting medicine down her throat, taking her temperature, fetching her popsicles, all of it.

So to say that I'm "worn out" would be the understatement of the century. I can't remember the last time I had any time to myself. As the race approaches TOMORROW it couldn't have been a worse time for me to bonk on my last "easy" run. Mentally I just feel so done right now. For the first time on Friday I looked at my sister and wondered out loud, "I hope I can do this."

Guys? On Saturday I ran 10.57 miles and felt GREAT! I was like, BAM! I just OWNED you ten miles!! And now a crappy little four mile run has me totally bent out of shape. I went to bed last night with aching legs. I limped around all afternoon as if I'd busted out 8 minute miles (I hadn't. Not even close). All of this time I've been training I've felt amazing. I can only remember one other discouraging run, and I was pushing a stroller that time.

Right now? I really want to quit. But you know why I can't?

Because YOU GUYS have supported me in this run. Because I'm not running for myself or to meet some little goal I've arbitrarily set for myself.

My fundraising total for the half marathon I'm running tomorrow stands at $1077.40. That represents 21 people in Africa who now have clean water. And that's not because I've done anything great or have run some great training runs or even because I'm running this stupid race tomorrow in my orange shirt. It's because YOU care. It's because YOU gave. It's because YOU wanted to help someone and you freaking went for it.

And so? With my aching legs I will get up at 4 o'clock tomorrow morning. I will put on my orange shirt and I will pin on my race bib and I will go for it. I might bonk again. It might take me four hours. BUT I DO NOT CARE. Because I know that somewhere out there, you guys are rooting for me. You're praying for Africa. You cared enough to do something to help someone who needed help.

And that's what matters, here in the home stretch. That's all that really matters.

I'll see you at the starting line.

Love,

Manda

p.s. It's not too late!! You can still help! Remember, $50 provides one person with the clean water they need to live FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIFE. Any amount helps, and we can partner together to get this done. I will run the miles. YOU will get a free recycled t-shirt scarf! Kids in Africa will get clean water. We all win!

The runner's adolescence.

2011-12-27T16:08:34-08:00

Becoming a runner again has had its awkward moments. In some ways, for me anyway, it's like going through adolescence all over again. Suddenly I have an ingrown hair in my armpit and one on a random place on my thigh. This morning I looked down and noticed that my toenail was bleeding. "Oh. That's interesting" was all I thought about it before I moved on. My feet are swollen and red in certain places. When I come in from a run I smell like a junior high phys ed class. My running clothes are always in the wash. My face is breaking out. I never have time to do more than slap a hat on my head before I head out. My legs are always sore and I'm always hungry and thirsty. When I'm out running I never know where to put my arms and trip on my own feet all the time.

So basically, running is turning me into a 14-year-old boy. Which is probably super attractive to my husband (and anyone who is unfortunate enough to run into me at the grocery store or on the trail ... I am in the same state in either place because working out now takes up any small amount of time I had for hygiene).

It's been a long time since I took working out seriously. I'd forgotten the aches and pains that comes along with forward movement.

But what I'd also forgotten is what regular exercise does to my personality: it makes me generally nicer and easier to live with. It makes me feel good and it makes my pants fit better. It reminds me of how strong I really am, it throws into sharp relief how lucky I am to be able to just pick up running again and suffer (so far, fingers crossed!) no injuries. I mean, I am still a little surprised to report that my body can take it. That mentally I can do this. HOW WEIRD.

On Saturday I faced what has been my hardest running challenge yet, which was 6 miles while pushing both kids in the jogging stroller. John had to visit a team about an hour away on Saturday morning, and could not make our group run. Saturday group runs mean my long run for the week, and it also means that my husband is the donkey and I get to just run. It's awesome. He handles the toys and shoes flung into the sidewalk, passes out the GoGurts, breaks up the fights, keeps everyone entertained (and he still clocks ten minute miles and shepherds our group and makes sure no one gets lost, sheesh) while I settle into my 11-minute miles and my own head space. This is how I ran 8 miles two weeks ago and felt amazing. This is why I love group run Saturdays.

But on this particular day, I was to be the donkey. The farthest I'd ever run and pushed the stroller was maybe three miles. I'd set my alarm for 6:45, enough time to drag myself up and get dressed, get a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, scoop the kids out of bed and bundle them into the jogging stroller with their snacks and be ready to leave the house. But of course, in a stupor, when my iPhone alarm went off I accidentally turned it off instead of hitting snooze and jolted awake to find that my clock read 7:15. I frantically raced about trying to get ready and get the kids ready and didn't make it out the door until 8. CRAP. I headed straight to the route from the house and bypassed the coffee shop and began searching the horizon for orange shirts.

Finally, our friend Mike (who usually leads the group and clocks 8 minute miles), approached about a mile in. We high fived, he told me the turnaround point, we wished each other a Merry Christmas and off we went. One by one our friends from group came up the hill and high-fived, most of them surprised to see that I'd made it out. I pushed up the big hill before the drop to the beach. I held on for dear life as I eased the giant stroller down the beach ramp dusted in a slippery coating of white sand. I rescued shoes and toys. We stopped at the bathroom once.

And before I knew it we were nearly done. The way had been so slow, but now we were catching up to the walkers at the back of the group! They couldn't believe that I'd pushed the stroller up the beach ramp alone (and I told them that I had the booty lock to prove that I HAD in fact done it!). It took me 1 hour, 21 minutes and 5 seconds to complete 5.92 miles.

But now I know I can do it. It can be done.

Running as a mother has been a totally different ball game for me, guys. My daughter has not slept well for two weeks, and usually? Being sleep-deprived is the perfect excuse for me to NOT run because I am one of those people who cannot function on little sleep. And yet as soon as the kids get up from nap today, John and I are loading them into the stroller and heading out to get another six miles (he did a P90X workout earlier today to make up for my slow pace. RUB IT IN, why dontcha!? ha ha!). And what's the weirdest? I'm actually looking FORWARD to it. Sydney is sick with a cold right now and was in hysterics at one a.m. because she had BOOGERS in her nose and couldn't get to sleep and yet? I WANT TO RUN?

Dudes. Who AM I?

All of this is an awesome side effect of what is being borne of all the running. Training means that I will be able to run a half marathon in a few weeks. Which represents? The 53 people in Africa that my friends - the readers of this blog - have given the gift of water. This cup is running over and spilling out into all areas of my life, and it all began with this idea that I would just ask people for help. I would tell them what's going on in Africa, tell the stories of people who do not have clean water, and try to connect the people who could help to the people who needed help.

And it's working. And it's awesome. One person at a time lives are being changed.

There is still time to do something huge in the life of a person in Africa. Just $50 is enough to provide one person with clean water for the rest of their lives, but anything helps.

click here to donate

Your donations are tax-deductible and go directly to World Vision (only a few days left in December to get tax deductions in!). And remember! If you donate $26.20 or more, you get a free recycled t-shirt scarf! And you could look like THIS!

Lauren modeling her t-shirt scarf like a boss. A boss who loves to give clean water.

(and did I mention that these scarves are kid-friendly and easy to care for? Just throw them in the washer and dryer ... like a t-shirt. BOOM.)

Thank you for giving clean water. Thank you for giving a child a chance to go to school. Thank you for taking children out of harm's way on the road to water and at water sources. Thank you for doing something to protect children and their families against avoidable diseases like typhoid, cholera, and giardia. Thank you for giving mothers back the lives of their children. Thank you for giving new life to communities that are in desperate need of help. Thank you for reaching out and for your support and for running with me on this journey. When the road is hard, when the stroller is heavy, when I'm headed uphill and don't know if I can make it I think of all the people at my back, cheering for me and praying for me and partnering with me on behalf of our brothers and sisters in Africa.

Thank you.

With love from your sweaty, awkward friend,

Manda

Thank you from Team World Vision and Joyce

2011-12-25T00:01:00-08:00

This video is only 30 seconds long, and it cuts straight to the point.

Thank you for clean water. Because of my friends, 53 people in Africa will now have clean water. No more dangerous, time-consuming walks to contaminated water sources. Much less disease and death. A chance at a new life.

Thank you.

Merry Christmas!

God Rest Ye

2011-12-24T00:01:00-08:00

Merry Christmas my friends! I pray these days are kind to you. With all of my heart I hope that you have a blessed and warm holiday with family and friends and comfort and home and all things lovely. We are spending our time together as a family and counting all our blessings (and let's face it, watching Christmas Vacation and eating our weight in goodies).

Much love from our household to yours.

-Manda

"'⁸And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. ⁹And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. ¹⁰And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. ¹¹For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. ¹²And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. ¹³And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, ¹⁴Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill towards men.'"

"...And that's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."