run, forest, run

when scott and i moved to cali a little over 4 years ago, we decided to embrace the california lifestyle and become runners.  we sort of figured that while in illinois we could use the weather as a scapegoat, but that moving to a city with an average of 264 sunny days/year that excuse was out the window.  on week one in sunny ton pleasanton, we both bought sparkly new tennies.  we devised a run schedule that would allow each of us to get some street time and hit the pavement.  for scott this lasted for a longer period.  as for me, it lasted for a total of about 3 runs.  i think i logged about 1.5 miles total in those three runs and decided that running might not be for me.  for reals.  i was not into it and could barely make it three houses down.

i should back up a little bit.  as a child i was a hot-potato athlete.  i participated in a few seasons of soccer, a few winters of gymnastics, logged a season or two on the ice dabbling in figure skating and then moved to virginia.  upon arriving in virginia, i discovered that gymnastics, soccer and any sports that required ice were a no-go for girls.  they just didn't have those sports once you hit middle school. i was a little bummed, but since i was a dabbler i quickly moved on.  for a brief stint i took up swimming.  i liked swim team quite a bit but had a hard time with the effects it had on my teenage hair.  i am one hundred percent serious when i say that i quit swim team because the chlorine was turning my hair orange.  i was a confident girl, but that was a not in the cards for me.  and so i quit.

in high school i became a team manager.  as someone who enjoys being involved (and as a teenager that enjoyed being around boys), basketball manager and soccer manager had my name all over it.  myself and a few of my besties would organize uniforms, take stats at the game, tend to towels and hydration and check our "participation in sports" box.  i mean it.  i lettered in managing.  (i have the letter to prove it.)  as a result, i had a lot of male friends and that worked pretty well for me- boys made better friends in that era in my life.

but there was a little bit of sadness due to the fact that i was not, by any stretch of the imagination, an athlete.

around nine months after we arrived in california, those new running shoes that had been tossed to the back of the closet began to call to me.  i can't explain why, but for some reason i felt like i had to put them on again.  it just so happens that a friend i had made at e's school started talking to me about running.  she asked me to join her and i obliged.

for lack of a better term, she kicked my arse.

turns out, she was a former oakland police officer who worked out A LOT and ran almost every day.  on our first run she had me going three miles and up large hills and at a very rapid pace.  i almost died and wanted to transfer schools after our first time out so as never to see her again.  it was ugly.

but i went back for more... because she was my friend and because i didn't want to be a quitter.

and for the better part of a year, i hit the pavement logging three miles three times a week with kari.  it went from something i did to something i enjoyed.  and what kari doesn't know is that in that year, she gave birth to a runner.  i am forever thankful.

in october of that year, i ran a 5k to raise money for my sister who was in the midst of cancer.  somehow, running a race for her felt like i was actually doing something to help her in her journey- while i realize that it did very little for her (aside from raising funds for a wig to wear during chemo), it did a lot for me.  it gave a place to put my energy/cancer angst and carved out time to pray for her recovery.

eventually, i moved schools and took up a new running partner (due to mismatched schedules with my former one).  dawn was up for the challenge and ran by my side for the better part of two 1/2 years.  we found a rhythm and we entered races- a 5k, a 10k and then the one that felt like it was out of the park...  she forced encouraged me to run a 10 miler across the golden gate bridge.

i loved every minute of it.

it was social- i cherished our chat time.  it was invigorating.  it was an outlet for stress and a way to feel a little bit more "healthy".  and when it was over, i contemplated tying my laces together and hanging up my running shoes.  i had a good run, so to speak.

but something within me kept nudging me foreword.  a half-marathon was just out of reach and i felt like i was so close.

and so i kept going.

again, due to changing agendas and schedules, i needed a new running partner.  lynn stepped right up to the plate.  she was in the midst of training for boston (she has been a serious runner for years) and was willing to run with ever so slow me.

suddenly, i found myself logging miles for my short runs alone and anxiously awaiting the long runs each weekend with her.  my pace improved.  my desire to get to 13.1 cemented and in the midst i realized that i was an athlete in the making.

an athlete.  for reals.

and today, lynn and i logged 13.1 in livermore at the inaugural runliv half marathon.

who knew?

certainly not i.  but i can tell you with certainty that i am not ready to hang up the shoes.  i surprised myself and finished with a time i can be proud of.  more importantly, i pushed myself to do something so out of the box for me and felt proud as i approached the finish line to see my family cheering me on.  it felt good to show my girls that their momma was an athlete.

and i guess it goes to show that who you were is never who you are.  we always get to have moments where we surpass even our own expectations for ourselves.  we get to reinvent and we get to redefine- day by day, little by little.

nothing is out of reach.

tootin' my own horn

i can't stop giggling.  it has been one REALLY long week.

a few weeks ago, the hubs approached me with a potential trip to the mid-west in march.  i looked at the books and just started laughing.  if you could pick the most stacked week of the year to be gone, this one was it.  but alas, the hubs has this day job gig and it is sort of vital to the buser abode.  what can you do?  not much.  and so i said, "book it", crossed my fingers, held my breath and said, "we're gonna do this!"

as life would have it, we had an epic plumbing fail a few days before his departure.

monday included the start of a spring sport schedule where two buser girlies have practices at different times and the turn-in of two science projects.

tuesday was a meeting with an insurance adjuster, gymnastics, some emails to send concerning a local school district issue and the science fair.  "i got this!"  and just to make things a little more fun, i decided that i needed to be a lumber jack and chainsaw down a couple of trees.  they had been in the pipeline for "things to do" for a while and our green waste bin was empty.  why not?  (i sang "timber" under my breath while feeling like the queen of the world operating power tools...  if you want to know the whole truth.)

wednesday was kindy round-up registration for pops, a class i love at the gym and an unexpected bout with food poisoning.  (just another day in the motherhood.)  oh, and did i mention day two of new alternating sports schedule?

thursday was more sports, early dismissal at kindy and the need to order a dumpster for bathroom dismantle over the weekend.  it was time to call for a pizza and wrap this party up.  oh and support a friend's home party in the evening (which was a little like a get-out-of-jail-free card, if i'm totally honest.)

friday was another early dismissal, an orthodontist appointment, and while i'm going strong...  i might as well finally paint the office...  why not?

and if i don't say so myself nobody else will say it...  i ROCKED it.  for the first time in the motherhood, i feel like "i got this!"

and then i got the text that the hubs was delayed from chicago...  my first inclination was to cry.  my second inclination was to order take-out and have a dance party.

i have four nasty trees down, three girls giggling, some poor dietary choices, a painted office, a dumpster in front of my house, three enlightened children thanks to the go-go's, a very cute new shirt on the way (from above mentioned party), a third kid registered for kindergarten, two tired swimmers and a smile on my face.  oh...  and i showered this week...  three times (just so you know).

it was sort of an epic week around here.  these moments don't happen often and so it seems fitting to celebrate them when i am able to pull them off well.  normally, i would just celebrate that we are all alive and wearing clean panties (yes, dawnie.  i said "pant

ies" on the blog.).  but this week took "daddy's out of town" to a whole new level!

we even posed for a few selfies...

marriage is what brings us together today

this post is personal.   i will warn you in advance.

years ago, my brother-in-law, approached his wife and told her he was letting go.  they had been married for many years and out of the blue he told her it was over.  he is a good man and i love him dearly, but he had been fighting demons for a long time and decided that an end was inevitable.

i was in the midst of nursing my pops at the time and felt like i had to do something.  but how do you "do" anything when dealing with others.  people get to choose what they choose.  you don't have to like it or agree with it, but it can affect you and those you love, none-the-less.

i chose to pray my heart out.  with each and every nursing session, i prayed for this marriage.  i prayed that my dear brother-in-law would find clarity.  i prayed for God to cement what had been united in matrimony.  i prayed for my niece and my nephews that they would be protected.  i prayed for my sister and all that she was having to endure.  it was an odd time.

and as life would have it, my pops was in for the long haul.  she nursed through the night for the better part of a year.  i imagine that i might have been miffed by this, but for the fact that i had committed my nursing sessions to a very specific prayer.  somehow, the prayer time for my sister, made me tolerate the lengthy nursing sessions more.  in fact, i rather savored them.  when pops would cry out to be fed in the wee hours, i ran to her side because i knew it was special time between my God and i.

through months and months of praying, i witnessed God speak into my heart.  there were days that i felt prompted to encourage and support my sister.  there were days where i felt God call me to reach outside of myself and connect with my brother-in-law.  there were days when i felt peace and there were days when i felt turmoil.  there were moments of hope and moments of despair.  but one thing remained constant.

i always felt like God was drawing me in.  in spite of the difficult nature of those prayer sessions, He never left me.  He whispered into my heart.  He gave me peace and He taught me so much about why intercessory prayer (praying on the behalf of another) is valued in His kingdom.

you see, we don't have to do life alone.  i think so many of us think that we do.  but the truth is, community and "family" and love births itself in those moments where we take on anther's burden.  i didn't have to feel like my sister's divorce was mine to participate in.  but i did.  and while i can't say that i even understand her pain a tiny bit, i know that God spoke to me boldly through this era.

in spite of my sister's willingness to forgive and hold on and move forward, her hubs did not feel the same.  he needed to sow his wild oats.  he gave way to his demons and he let go.

it crushed me to witness this firsthand.  i wanted God to redeem this marriage and to honor the vows that my sister remained committed to.

and as time unfolded it revealed to me the greatness of the gift that God has given us in free will.  it is such a difficult thing to understand, but it is one of the most amazing aspects of the Kingdom of Heaven.  through this time, i learned so much about a God that chooses us, but longs for us to choose Him.  it is hard to say this, but in spite of my sister's pain, i wouldn't change this experience because of all that God cemented in my heart about relationships and two way streets and free will.

i have been praying in earnest for my sister since that time.  i have watched her go through a divorce and choose to be an amazing woman with each and every step.  in spite of the pain, she always chose selflessness.  words just can't depict what she did.  she surrendered self and through each step chose grace and love.  when all things in a human calls for anger, she chose not to give in to the temptation.  when one might show up at the table with a feistiness, she chose calm.  she asked questions.  she loved lavishly and she put her children at the front always.

if i were in her shoes, i always imagined showdowns and lawyers and fights.  that was never her reality.  she always picked respect, the high-road and love.

and i sat back in awe.

it wasn't always easy.  there were many times when anger and frustration tried to grab hold of her.  but her faith was strong.  her conviction was solid and her love for Jesus always was the cream that rose to the top.

last fall, my sister told me about a friend that had contacted her through Facebook.  i'll admit, i was a little skeptical.  but just as soon as my earthly cynicism began to take hold, i felt God sweep in with a peace.

"tasha, do you trust me?  do you believe that i have a plan for those that choose me and love me and serve me?"  (do you notice a theme here in my faith walk?  i am pretty sure God gets tired of these little chats with me, but He never shows it.  He just keeps pressing in and holding my hand.)

it's a difficult question when the cards are stacked against that belief.

but i do believe.

God has been so good for so long.  history would tell me that God is full of surprises.  the Jesus that i love didn't come to die on a cross so that we would always suffer, but He came so that we would experience joy.  the road isn't always an easy one.  in fact, most often it is difficult.  but redemption is true and pure and from heaven.

and so i prayed.  early on in the relationship, i found myself begging God to not let my sister get hurt.

i should probably interject here that my sister is 7 years older than i.  finding myself in a situation where little old me was worried about older and wiser her was new.  it was odd.  it was out of body.  and yet, it was also part of what i felt God was using to define me.  as a younger sister of three, there are so many moment where you feel like you lack value and don't add meaning.  God used this prayer experience to teach me that my prayers matter.  regardless of who you are, He cares.  He listens.  He understands.

He answers.

do you know that?  do you feel that?

sometimes the answers to prayers are not what you would expect.  often they are not what you might anticipate.  but that doesn't make them less "good".

you see, God knows the whole story.  He weaves a tapestry that extends beyond our imagination.  He brings people in and lets them participate (through prayer or encouragement or observation) to His plan.  and then He reveals it and we are blessed with the opportunity of being a part of the story.

heather, my sister, married her mark this week.

mark (the Facebook contact and 4th grade first kiss) was reaching out to my sister.  he had been through his own story and felt like God was prompting him to make contact with heather.  it turns out that the two of them were a romance/love story made for the movies.  they were a match made and designed by the heavens and after years and years, get to have their happy ending.

it is difficult to write a conclusion here.  but from where i sit, i see a God that allowed me to pray.  He sought my heart and invited me into a painful story to watch how His redemption brings joy and happiness and new beginnings.

and i'm not saying that divorce brings happy endings.

but when God walks each day with you, when you surrender to His plan, restoration is possible.  love is to be expected and old things can be made new.

to my sister:  i adore you.  i have since i was a little girl and thought that you were the brightest, shiniest of stars.  you have never disappointed.


to my brent (my first brother-in-law):  you are a good man.  cleave yourself to Christ and you will find that emptiness brings fullness.

and to my newbie, mark:  be the man of God that you are, embrace the "trinity" of marriage and i am certain that both of you will have hearts full of smiles and peace.  life will have bumps and hurdles, but with God as your guide will always be worth the journey.  (from what i know about you, i am preaching to the choir here.) thank you for reaching out to her.  thank you for honoring the sanctity of marriage and i look forward to years and years of joy with you in our lives.  and thank you for choosing togetherness and God's plan for my max, maclane and willsie to join your Smith and Ella Mae on this journey with Christ.  i love you all already.

hugs.

smooches.

and may God write out His peaceful, happy, blessed beyond measure happy ending...

and to my Father:  thank you for using this personal story to demonstrate to me who You are.  in spite of the moments where i doubted You, You gave me conviction.  You have shown me patience.  You have shown me love.  You have shown me community and the value of stepping into someone else's life.  You have taught me that you are the master of timing and You have taught me that You are sovereign.  and above all else, You have given me a glimpse into the beautiful mystery of prayer.  my life is forever changed and i am filled with gratitude.

don't throw the baby out with the bathwater

this is a story that i should have written months and months and maybe even a year or so ago.  i didn't because it was too pain full.  time has passed and the burn has lessened a wee bit.  this one needs to go down in record books and so, here goes...

about two years ago, shortly after moving into buser abode (and organizing buser abode), my girls made an epic sized mess in their rooms.  it has happened to every mom.  more than once.  repeatedly, perhaps.

i naively thought they were getting along and being the "bestest of the sisters in world" while momma cooked dinner...  only to later discover that they were more likely the next contestant on "hoarders of the west coast".  i don't know what hurt my heart more...  the fact that they had tricked me into believing that they were rock star sisters or the fact that they had dumped out every single tidy bin in their combined three rooms.

the first time, i took one for the team.  momma sorted the bins and organized the books.  i categorized the barbies and the calico critters and polly's and the pet shops...  while saying evil things under my breath and swearing i would not, could not, ever do this again.  (if you are a mom of boys, just insert legos for that last clump of words.)

the second time it happened, i rallied the troops and made them join in on the sorting fun INSANITY.    it gave new meaning to "four score and seven years ago".  it took FOREVER.  days passed and we were still trying to tidy the mess.  momma was on edge and the girlies looked like they were about to break.  it was not good.  it was a scary time in the buser house and momma warned the team that we would not, could not, EVER do that again.

it lasted for about three days.

and then momma discovered the mess of all messes.  it was bigger and better and messier than mess one or mess two (or the millions of messes that came before those).  again, i had been tricked into thinking that quiet girlie time was equivalent to sisterly bonding and joyful NEAT play time together.

WRONG.

shame on me for allowing a few minutes of quiet play time morph into 30 minutes of momma getting something done around here finally....

as usual, i am off topic.

this third time, i decided the blood was on their hands.  momma was done.  finished.  kaput.  and so i gave them the evening and the next day to make all that they had aided in going askew, back to its rightful positioning.  pops was too young to play this little game, so momma cleaned up her 33% of the disaster.  e, recognizing that momma was not joking around, went to task and completed her 33%, but d, the less than tidy one of the bunch did not understand that this was SERIOUS.

she putzed and she shifted things in her room, but nothing got back to its rightful spot according to momma's labeled bins.  after the original allotted time, momma made a concession.

"d-bugs, you have until the end of the week.  every day you will clean your room until it is done.  you will not play with your sisters.  you will not watch tv.  you will not play alone.  you will finish what you started.  you will do what you have undone.  i mean it.  i'm not taking it back.  this isn't a joke."

(don't judge.  it is what i HAD to do.  i was not happy about it, but the motherhood is not always fair. this was one of those times.)

and so for the remainder of the week (a day or so), d was banished to her room and repeatedly charged with the task of getting it back in order.

until she didn't.

and the week ended.

rut-ro.  momma was in uncharted territory.  both sisters had heard my decree and my reputation was on the line.

"delaney, momma is taking away all of your toys."

(insert sobbing hysterics)

"you can earn them back.  i'm going to scoop up everything on your floor and if you have two weeks of a clean room at bedtime, i will return what i have scooped.  if not, it goes to the donation pile.  we'll give it to a kid who can handle this many cool and amazing toys."

...................................................................................................................................................................

we shall pause this story to insert that the hubs was at a meeting on the night that the big scoop up went down.  momma scooped up all the toys and placed them into a trash bag.  she placed the trash bag off to the side in the garage and announced to the hubs that he should ignore said bag because it contained all of the beloved toys that d-bugs could not muster the energy to put away...  in a weeks time.

...................................................................................................................................................................

upon the completion of two weeks, d had earned her bag of toys back.  she was missing all of her coveted treasures and she had gone to task in accomplishing the "clean room" assignment.  on day 15, i went to the garage to gather her treasures.

but what to my wondering eyes should NOT appear???

the trash bag.

gone.

missing.

hiding behind something else?  no.

hiding under the another pile of crap treasure we store in the garage?  no.

absent.

not to be found.

momma made a quick call to the hubs assuming that he had stashed it someplace safe.

wrong.

for the history books, i will report THAT was not a fun a phone call.  hubs immediately recognized his error and acknowledged that for shizzle he had thrown it away in spite of what i had told him.  he was in trash mode and didn't think twice.  thankfully, momma was in "gracious wife" mode when this call went down and realized that it was an honest mistake.

upon assessing the middle child's room, the hubs and i realized that we had given p-town's dump two american girl dolls (if you don't know what these means, google it.  this was a pricey mistake), many additional american girl doll accessories, pet shops, my little pony's, random riffraff, expensive hair bows, a shirt or two, possibly some unders,  a barbie or two and one of every single barbie shoe that all three girls collectively own, and a large number of books.

ouch.

and d had worked hard to earn them back.

again, uncharted momma territory.  it didn't seem right to punish the girl for an innocent mistake and so momma and daddy went to task in righting our wrong.  we gave her a target allowance to purchase new toys and we re-bought the american girl dolls (with one being a retired doll that we had to buy on e-bay for double the price).

but dare i say, it was a lesson learned.  my girls take me seriously when i tell them that their rooms need to be clean at bedtime and since the dreaded day, we have not needed to fill any trash bags with toys.  it was an expensive lesson.  one we will hear about and feel the pain of for years to come, but a lesson none the less.

(there is no bathwater in this story.  however, there were two babies.)