Lent is over. Alleluia!

Happy Easter, friends.

It's a truly special day when Felix is wearing something other than a graphic t-shirt and running pants.

Here I am, at the end of my Lenten journey. Instead of giving something up, I took something on: I decided to write 40 blogs in 40(ish) days. The math got a little fuzzy toward the end, but we made it.

Why I run (even when I'm not being chased, or about to miss a bus)

For most of my life, I loathed running. I was the chubby, asthmatic kid who was the last to finish laps in gym class. As the workouts got tougher, I showed up at school with an inhaler and notes written on my dad's prescription pad: Monica cannot run.

I could walk for miles, but as soon as I raised my pace to a jog, my chest would burn, I'd gasp for air, and I'd feel a stabbing pain in my side.

Why do people make a hobby out of this? I wondered.

This is 36

I'm 36 years old.

It's not really a milestone of any kind; I'm now "over 35" and I can more confidently admit to remembering things that happened 30 years ago. But mostly, it's just a quiet acknowledgement that I'm moving along the journey of life and I'm firmly in this part.

In this part of my life, liquor store clerks apologize when they check my ID ("I'm sorry, ma'am, we have to card everyone, it's our policy" - Really? You can't just pretend you mistook me for 20? And what's with the ma'am?). In this part of my life, if I walk across a college campus, I am more likely to be mistaken for a professor than a student. In this part of my life, I sometimes look in the mirror and see the outlines of my parents' faces in a way that I never noticed before.

My weekend as a socialite

I'm not one of those fancy people you might see in the society pages, looking elegant at a charity fundraiser. 

But this weekend, it sure felt that way.

Friday, I spent the evening at a fashion show fundraiser for the United Way. It was at a hotel called Blu.

The drinks were blue.

Commuter Troubles

I skipped yesterday's blog, cashing in one of those "day of rest" chips I awarded myself when I learned that I had miscounted the days of Lent and could have been taking Sundays off all along.

It seemed like a good day to rest. Yesterday ended with me Facebook-messaging Sam to come upstairs and turn off the bedroom light so I could go to sleep, because I wasn't sure I could get myself out of bed and complete this simple task. 

It started with the bus.

7 New Rules for Facebook

Today, one of my favorite people posted this message:

"I have 4 Facebook rules: Don't brag. Don't complain. Don't get personal. Be entertaining." 

She went on to admit that she had been dealing with depression, it had gotten pretty bad, and she was going to break some of her rules to fill us in on the situation.

I am so proud of her. Depression is a scary, serious, life-threatening illness that does not benefit from people isolating themselves. She needs a support network, and what better place to find it than among her 600+ friends?

Let there be music.

"And there will always be music."

When I was a teenager, and I knew everything, I liked to tell my parents all the things I'd do differently when I was an adult and it was my house. 90% of them were probably wrong (I'd treat my kids like adults! I'd never make them eat things they didn't like!) but I did live up to one of my promises. The first thing I do when I come home from work is turn on the radio or turn on a CD. I can't even back the car out of the garage without the stereo on.

I grew up in a quiet household. My dad turned on the TV to watch the evening news or Crossfire, but mostly it was quiet. My parents and I read books and magazines. I did homework or wrote stories or worked on puzzles. We talked, when there were things to say. 

How I spent my spring break.

Tomorrow, I return to work, Evie returns to school, and our spring break is officially over. It was relaxing, it was busy, it was a lot of activity packed into 5 days. Here are a few of the ways I spent my time off from work:

Took my favorite little girl ice skating 

Cleaned and organized my bedroom closet

Unpacked two boxes from our last move (4 years ago)

Found a cassette tape of a Carleton radio show that Sam and I recorded on 4/6/99 (15 years ago!)

Friday night's all right

Friday is my favorite day of the week.

It's the beginning of the weekend. It's a day of completion and accomplishment and freedom. 

Friday has been a great day for as long as I can remember, but the definition of why has changed throughout my life.

When I was younger, Friday meant the end of the school week, staying up late, watching TV with my parents. It was, after all, TGIF night.

Sleep (while you still can)

I woke up to tiny fingers gently brushing my cheeks and touching my eyelashes.

"Can I watch a movie?" Felix asked in his sweet little 3-year-old voice. It was 7:15 a.m., late enough that Sam had left for work, but far too early for me to want to wake up on my day off. Spring break should mean sleeping in, but Felix missed the memo.

"Let's go back to sleep," I suggested. 

"But I'm awake!" His bright eyes and cheerful demeanor backed up his story. He bounced on the bed as further evidence.

"Go see if Evie wants to watch a movie with you," I said sleepily and adjusted the comforter. Is there anything more comfortable than a bed you might have to leave soon?

The next thing I knew, Evie was standing next to the bed, explaining something about a mountain troll and Golden Grahams. It was 9:30. Evie had gotten up with her brother, unwrapped a couple of cereal bars, figured out the Blu-Ray player, and watched nearly all of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

If sleep were an Olympic event, I'd have medals hanging from my bed frame. Given the proper configuration of pillows and a down comforter, I'm unstoppable. I can fall asleep in seconds, I can stay asleep through the loudest disruption, and I can sleep for 12 straight hours. I actively enjoy sleep. It's not just a bodily function; it's more like a hobby.

Spring Break

Today was my first "official" day of spring break. Evie has been off school for a week now, and I decided to take a few vacation days from work to enjoy the last bit of her break with her.

Kids with working parents often miss out on the unstructured time inherent to summer vacation and school holidays. Evie has been in some type of year-round school and/or childcare program since she was 3 months old. In a normal week, she is too busy to get bored. Even our weekends are packed with activities, between chores, errands, and socializing with friends.

The past week, Sam and I have taken turns working from home so that Evie can fully experience her 12-day break from school and childcare. We're lucky enough to both have jobs that can be done from anywhere with a phone and a WiFi connection, and Evie can do many basic things for herself: reading, operating streaming NetFlix, making Rainbow Loom bracelets.

Dear Pinterest Mom

Dear Pinterest Mom,
You don't know me, but I've been following you for a couple of years.

At first, I wanted to be just like you. You had the best ideas. You taught me how to make cauliflower crust pizza and how to whiten my teeth. You showed me photos of sunsets in Bali and kitchens in Provence and the Midsummer Night's Dream party you hosted in your garden. You astounded me with your aesthetics and your imagination.

Pinterest Mom, I thought we were friends. You gave me decorating ideas and gently informed me that I was wearing Mom jeans. You told me to lose weight by working out only 12 minutes a week. Meanwhile, you were making Nutella Rice Krispies treats and serving raspberry mojitos in sugar-rimmed jam jars.