Christmas 2009

Well, Santa managed to find us all the way out here in South Korea. There's no hiding from that guy. I think he was here around 1 this morning and thank God nobody got up until a little after 9.

There were many challenges for Santa this year, as Lucinda was telling Will, Santa used to make all the toys but now it's cheaper to buy them in China and that's why Santa brings will the same stuff he sees over at WalMart. Well, it's the same here, Will. It's just plain cheaper for Santa to just pick stuff up at the PX here on the post rather than haul it all the way here from the North Pole in his sleigh. With the cost of gas these days it's best to keep the ride light. Unfortunately the PX here is the definition of SUCK and he didn't really want to venture out into Seoul because SANTA DOESN'T SPEAK KOREAN. So, you get what you get.

Santa brought Haley a karaoke machine. I'd like to shoot Santa in the face for that moment of weakness, but I'm sure it was just nerves because he had nothing for Haley to open and was desperate. By the way, Owen sings a rousing rendition of "Take me out to the ballpark" that will absolutely bring the house down.

Santa also brought some Hershey's Bliss creme de menthe meltaway candy. Score one for Santa, those things are awesome. If I wasn't married I'd marry him for bringing those. Oh wait...nevermind.

And if you don't already own a pair of Elmo Tickle Hands and Santa doesn't bring you any, you need to get some JUST SO you can watch the accompanying sing along/dance along DVD. That's 5 minutes YOU DON'T NEED TO MISS. It's worth whatever you have to pay for the hands.

Scott got me a Sony ereader, so I can download books and read them instead of buying books over and over because BOOKS COUNT AGAINST OUR WEIGHT ALLOWANCE, QUIT BUYING HEAVY, HEAVY BOOKS, JENNIFER. My ereader holds about 350 books. Take THAT, Army.

I took some pictures this morning of the kids opening their presents. It's been awhile since I've posted any pictures, I KNOW, but what do you know, I can still kind of work the camera.

And that's why we can't fly Delta anymore

There's something about being on an airplane that makes a child have to use the bathroom about 47 times an hour. Especially if you are nine, like Haley.

The plane we flew on from Atlanta to Seattle was one of those with three seats, then an aisle, then three seats. I'm sure there's a specific name for a plane with this layout, but I don't know it and don't care to know it. I hate flying, it doesn't make any sense to me how it's all possible, and I don't want to learn about flying, because I hate flying.

We were lucky enough to have an entire row, and so we sat Owen near the window, then Skylar, then Scott on the aisle; I sat across the aisle with Haley in the middle and Ashlyn by the window. I would like to point out that Scott got the better end of this deal, mainly because Owen is a male and is therefore amused by the smallest of things, like, oh, say, looking out the window of an airplane for five straight hours, and Skylar is two and can be entertained by a piece of paper and fart noises.

Ashlyn, being a little on the boring side like me, spent her time reading and playing her DS, not making so much as a peep. Haley, on the other hand, made enough noise for all of us. She fidgeted, she asked questions, she dropped things, she kicked me, she whined, she picked at Ashlyn, and she climbed over me to go to the bathroom. MANY MANY TIMES.

I'm not sure what all was happening on the other side of the aisle, as I was busy perfecting my whole I'M NOT WITH THEM m.o.; all I know is everyone was perfectly entertained, and the peals of laughter and fart noises didn't seem to be bothering anyone. However, at some point Skylar noticed Haley repeatedly getting up and going to the back of the plane and asked where she was going, to which I said "nowhere" and Haley said "the bathroom" all at the same time. Skylar sat there for a second as it sunk in and she kind of half asked, half stated "This place has a BATHROOM?!"

And well, after that it was all over.

Have you ever been on an airplane? If so, did you frequent the lavatory? They are terribly small. Too small, in fact for an adult to be in there with a child. I mean, I'm sure an adult can be in the lavatory on an airplane with a normal child, one whose hair is of normal size, but Skylar's hair takes up so much freaking room we decided-

Let me take a second to explain that when I use the term "we" I use it in the loosest possible fashion and I really mean "Scott" because WE WERE ON AN AIRPLANE tens of thousands of feet above land and I was in no position to make any decisions regarding anything because I was too busy willing the plane not to fall out of the sky. Which is hard work.

So anyway, we (loosely) decided that since Haley was probably going to the bathroom all the time anyway that she could just take Skylar with her. Because Haley is accommodating if she wants to be (NEVER) and Skylar is good when she wants to be (NEVER) and this had THIS IS GOING TO GO WELL written all over it.

The first few times they went to the bathroom together there were slight disagreements over who was actually going to "go" first, which led to heated discussions inside the bathroom. These discussions were heard throughout the rear of the plane, as Skylar is unnaturally loud. Not surprisingly, Skylar got her way and from what I gather the way it worked was Skylar used the bathroom and Haley sent her out of the lavatory and back up the aisle to us and then, once Skylar was out and the door was closed again, Haley used the bathroom herself. This system seemed to work, so why mess with a good thing? Why? BECAUSE YOU ARE HALEY.

Then Skylar had to poop, and for some reason Haley wanted to exercise her rights as the older sibling to get her way, and so she insisted on "going" first, and Skylar didn't like it much, and she screamed about it, and then Skylar told Haley there was no way she would go after Haley went, that the toilet must be flushed first. This in itself is a joke, because Skylar does not flush the potty. No way, never. She will even tell you, "I'm not going to flush right now, because I'm not finished going, but I'm watching Dora and when it's over I'll come back and finish and then I'll flush." So Haley obliged and flushed.

Getting back to my question about have you ever been on a plane and used the lavatory...do you remember flushing the toilet? The sudden surge of power, the LOUD noise, the sucking down of anything not glued down that might be lying on the vanity beside the sink? Well, Skylar had never had the pleasure. And it scared the bejesus out of her. The screaming was really, really loud, and I looked at Scott and he looked at me and I was all "Are you kidding me? I'm singlehandedly KEEPING THE PLANE IN THE AIR and I can't go back there and deal with that." So we (loosely) decided Haley was doing fine and nobody needed to get up.

Haley came back without Skylar and reported that it didn't go so well, that Skylar was terrified to get on the potty after that, but Haley insisted, and Skylar fought her pretty hard, and, well, they got a TINY bit of poop on the bathroom. And on Skylar's pants. Meanwhile, Skylar is still in the bathroom, howling. Scott decided to go, because really, it was better that he deal with it so I could keep us all from plummeting to our death. He handled it brilliantly, got them all back in line and back in their seats in no time flat. Good job, Scott!!

And Delta, you're welcome for that pair of size 2T/3T panties that we (loosely) left on the plane.

Military Wives

Each one may look different and each is wonderfully unique, But this they have in common:

Lots of moving...
Moving...
Moving...
Moving far from home...
Moving two cars, three kids and one dog...all riding with HER of course.
Moving sofas to basements because they won't go in THIS house; Moving curtains that won't fit; Moving jobs and certifications and professional development hours.
Moving away from friends;
Moving toward new friends;
Moving her most important luggage: her trunk full of memories.

Often waiting...
Waiting...
Waiting...
Waiting for housing.
Waiting for orders.
Waiting for deployments.
Waiting for phone calls.
Waiting for reunions.
Waiting for the new curtains to arrive.
Waiting for him to come home,
For dinner...AGAIN!

They call her 'Military Dependent', but she knows better:
She is fiercely In-Dependent.

She can balance a check book;
Handle the yard work;
Fix a noisy toilet;
Bury the family pet...

She is intimately familiar with drywall anchors and toggle bolts.
She can file the taxes;
Sell a house;
Buy a car;
Or set up a move...
.....all with ONE Power of Attorney.

She welcomes neighbours that don't welcome her.
She reinvents her career with every PCS; Locates a house in the desert, The Arctic, Or the deep south.
And learns to call them all 'home'.
She MAKES them all home.

Military Wives are somewhat hasty...
They leap into:
Decorating,
Leadership,
Volunteering,
Career alternatives,
Churches,
And friendships.
They don't have 15 years to get to know people.
Their roots are short but flexible.
They plant annuals for themselves and perennials for those who come after them.

Military Wives quickly learn to value each other:
They connect over coffee,
Rely on the spouse network,
Accept offers of friendship and favors.
Record addresses in pencil...

Military Wives have a common bond:
The Military Wife has a husband unlike other husbands; his commitment is unique.
He doesn't have a 'JOB'
He has a 'MISSION' that he can't just decide to quit...
He's on-call for his country 24/7.
But for her, he's the most unreliable guy in town!
His language is foreign
TDY
PCS
OPR
SOS
ACC
BDU
ACU
BAR
CIB
TAD
And so, a Military Wife is a translator for her family and his.
She is the long- distance link to keep them informed; the glue that holds them together.

A Military Wife has her moments:
She wants to wring his neck;
Dye his uniform pink;
Refuse to move to Siberia;
But she pulls herself together.
Give her a few days,
A travel brochure,
A long hot bath,
A pledge to the flag,
A wedding picture,
And she goes.
She packs.
She moves.
She follows.

Why?
What for?
How come?
You may think it is because she has lost her mind.
But actually it is because she has lost her heart .
It was stolen from her by a man,
Who puts duty first,
Who longs to deploy,
Who salutes the flag,
And whose boots in the doorway remind her that as long as he is her Military Husband, She will remain his military wife.
And would have it no other way.

(thanks, Amber)

My nervous tic

Friday we went to St. Mary's to meet everyone's teacher for this school year. While we were visiting the kindergarten room I found out about a specific book that Owen needed to read before going to school this morning. So, yesterday we went to Barnes & Noble to buy the book.

There were several things I'd wanted the kids to get done around the house before going to bed last night, things like PICK UP YOUR CRAP, and I told Owen we'd read the book as a bedtime story, which I thought was a great idea because when they discussed it today in class it would be fresh in his mind. When we got home from the store Skylar was asleep, so I carried her in and the kids brought various things in from the car (meaning just their bodies--clothes, shoes, and anything else they may have taken when we left is obviously optional upon deplaning) and I forgot about bringing the book inside. And I guess because I did not say directly to one person "Go outside, open the car door, get the book, close the car door, and bring the book inside" it didn't get done.

Later in the evening Owen remembered about the book and went outside to the car to get it. He announced it to everyone, that he was going outside to get in the car and get the book, and one day people around here will start to catch on to the idea that if you want to do anything and not have a bunch of people in your face trying to do it "with you" then you need to keep your mouth shut about what your plans are. I have learned this, and I routinely go about my business in the house without making any formal speeches, and I also routinely answer questions from the peanut gallery regarding my intentions with "None of your business, go away."

Anyway, Owen told everybody what he was about to do, and Skylar decided she'd go with him. I guess when they got out to the car there was a small disagreement about who was going to carry the book inside and whose book it was and who was in charge of the universe and it ended with Owen crying and shutting Skylar in the car. Skylar retaliated by mashing her nose against the window and screaming "Rowena Rowena!"

-Rowena is a name we all the kids call Owen when he is whining, because it's a girl name but it still has "owen" in the middle, and oh let me tell you it gets his fur up.-

Owen got upset about this, and instead of leaving her in the car to overheat and die he came inside and got an egg.

Does anyone see where this is going?

And if any of you were wondering where I was while this was happening, I was writing a book report on the 5th grade summer reading assignment, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, while simultaneously writing a summary of the book Dinosaurs Before Dark, the 3rd grade summer reading assignment.

Thankfully Owen took a boiled egg out of the refrigerator instead of a raw one, because, as he told me later "they all look the same." Apparently Owen does not realize that when I boil eggs I put them in a bowl rather than stick them back in the egg carton. Anyway, Owen went back outside with the egg (and I really don't know what he was going to do with it, because I know he's only 5, but for Pete's sake surely, SURELY he would have known better than to do something to Skylar with what he thought was a raw egg while she was inside the car). Skylar saw him coming, saw that he had an egg, got nervous (this is pure conjecture, the nervousness part) and peed in the car.

And Owen has the nerve to come back inside and act surprised and totally uninvolved.

Ashlyn put Skylar in the shower while I went outside, got the carpet mat things out of the car, and took a tire brush and some kitchen soap and the hose and began to scrub them. The story should end there, but, you know, it doesn't, because as I was finishing up I look up and Skylar is standing in the middle of the driveway, naked and wet, babbling something about Cinderella panties and Elmo panties. When I tell her to go back inside she wants to stand there and argue about the fact that her rights as a potty-trained 2-year old should include being able to choose whichever pair of panties she wants instead of having someone else choose for her, that they are her panties and her butt, and she should be in charge of them both. And really, if this is how she feels she's going to be pretty upset when she starts having to pay taxes.

Now the mats to the car are outside in the front yard laying across the chairs from the picnic table, sunning themselves. Periodically I have to go out and check on them, flip them over so they don't get tan lines, and basically check on their well-being, as we have two dipshit dogs that live across the street that routinely come over here and take my stuff. I'm serious, I used to have a mat on the front porch that I'd find in the ditch or in the driveway or in the neighbor's yard that finally disappeared for good. So I'm just making sure that the mats make it back into the car once they are satisfied with their UV content.

Today was the first day of school.

THANK YOU SWEET JESUS.

I thought Skylar would like to sit on the bed and watch some Dora, so I left here there and did some laundry, but when I came back she wasn't there, and I found her (again) on a chair in the kitchen with the dog treats chunking them by the handful at Heidi, who was moving as fast as her seal-like, 24 pound body can move. Now I'm going to get in the shower, and I guess I'll just hope that she doesn't burn down the house. Which would not be as big of a stretch for her as you might think.

On another note, t-minus 3 hours for my friend April (GOOD LUCK!) and 7 hours for my friend Amy (don't maul him in the airport, it sets a bad example for the children).

Why I plan on getting the International Calling Plan

because it'd just be a cryin' shame to miss out on phone conversations like this:

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Oh, not much. Just watching this t.v. show on how to grow pot."

Memories

Remember when I was pregnant with you, Skylar, and I was so very sick almost the entire time?
Remember when you were a baby, Skylar, and you cried all the time? Every day? Every single day? For hours and hours?
Remember a while back, Skylar, when you began to stomp your foot whenever I told you "no" and say I wasn't your friend anymore?

Remember today, when you said I never do anything for you?

Remember all the times I've been so incredibly tired and you've refused to sleep?

Remember when you colored the wall?

Remember when you colored the dog?

Remember when you flushed the telephone down the toilet?

Remember when you hit Ashlyn with the bat?

Remember when you hit Haley with the bat?

Remember when you hit Owen with the bat?

I bet you got a good laugh out of all that stuff, didn't  you?

WELL BABY, WHO'S LAUGHING NOW?

Orange!

Owen recently tested for his orange belt in his karate class. This is a video of basic form 1. (I would link to the form but good grief I have no idea which version he's doing here) The best part is if you listen to what the teacher, Mr. Ricky, is saying about focusing vs. letting your mind wander, and then watch and see what Owen is doing.  

Even though he totally messes up about halfway through, for his test he did the entire form (among other things) for the teacher all by himself and didn't mess up any.  

He is by far the smallest in the class, and I would say that makes him the cutest, but honestly, he doesn't need any help with that!   

Divided attention

"Mama, will you read me and Skylar this book?"

(me on the computer on facebook) "Mmmhmm."

"Ewww, Skylar look at this picture!  Look Mama!"

(me never taking my eyes off the computer)  "Mmmhmm.  Yeah."

"Look!  He's NAKED!" (LOTS of laughing)

"What book are you read--ASHLYN!!!"

And here it comes

"Hey Mama, I'm finally reading the second part of this book.  What's this word?"

"Fah-low-pee-an.  Fallopi--What book is this?"

"It's called The Changing Me."

SHOOT ME.  SHOOT ME NOW.  IN THE FACE PREFERABLY.

FORE!!

I thought this might be a good way to kind of take control back from Skylar's hair, to stick a headband on her head and let all that curl poof out the back, but it turns out I'm still just fooling myself.  There is not a chance in hell of containing this stuff.  I mean, it works for like 15 minutes, right up until the sheer force of the curl pushes the headband past its limit and it shoots off the back of her head and takes somebody's eye out.  Which is fine and all at home, but random people eating in restaurants don't particularly enjoy it.  Go figure. 

I will never buy a GPS

Well, April and I made it out to San Angelo with relatively no incident, except for one that will forever remain a secret between the two of us and Amy, who was so tired when I told her I'm sure she doesn't remember it.

The same cannot be said for the return trip yesterday, a trip that without a doubt shaved 2.5 years off my life and added countless gray hairs.  It also answered a question I've been asking myself for about a month, that being whether or not I wanted a GPS. 

I would now like to issue an official statement:

Scott, don't worry I will never spend your hard earned money on a GPS.

I have my reasons, one of which includes taking some road no one's ever heard of or traveled on out in West Bumble, Texas, bypassing Abilene without bothering to tell me, us having no gas because we planned on getting some when we went through Abilene, a tiny bit of panic in the car, and then that panic turning into something just shy of rage directed at GPS Lady when she had us turn onto C.R. 406, a pleasant, single lane dirt road and telling me to drive on that same single lane dirt road for 20 miles.  Another reason was April having to wake Brandon up really early and yell talk in a shrill, panicked voice, while I called my dad and used the same exact voice to have him try and calculate just how many more miles we could go once the low fuel light came on.  Another reason?  Me resigning myself to the fact that we were indeed going to run out of gas, that we had no idea where we were in relation to the rest of North America, and that in order to save my life and April's life I was going to have to walk for several miles and knock on the door of the first house I found and beg for either gas or a zip code.  In flip flops.  And oh yes, there was also the thing with the cow.  

The other reasons I'm not going to mention because there are so many bad words involved that I would have to edit out I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to understand what I was even trying to say.  

We did manage to get back to I-20, where there are many, many gas stations to choose from should you begin to run low on fuel.  Yes, we eventually hooked up with I-20 in Shreveport.  Louisiana.  Roughly 442 miles from where we started.  

I am placing the blame for all this directly on GPS Lady.  You have no idea the feelings you experience when you are lost in West Texas with no gas trying to find a gas station and GPS Lady tells you to turn through a fence and into a pasture.  There was no road.  And the screen shows a nice big yellow road and she's screaming "turn left now" and April's screaming "we're all going to die, there's no hope" and the only thing you can think about is the movie Cast Away.  And then since there's no road there you have to take the next best thing, a stupid, single lane dirt road.  For 20 miles for crying out loud.  Oh, the feelings.  Just thinking about it now gets me all choked up.

So now I'm completely untrusting of the GPS.  I will never be sold on them.  I just don't think I can ever truly forgive and forget.  I will forever be haunted by the sound of GPS Lady's voice saying "recalculating...recalculating" followed by the shrill laugh used by people who have let the taste of raw power go to their head.  

Things like this happen and I'm inclined to spend money, just to make me feel better.  I'm thinking about buying myself some of that Custom Lasik.  As if yesterday wasn't bad enough today I found out that my eye prescription is such that I am considered legally blind.  Woo freaking Hoo.  Next I'm buying lottery tickets. 

Why everyone should have a Skylar

Reason #1:

"Mama, I don't have a tallywacker."

"No, you don't."

"Only boys have a tallywacker."

"Yes, that's right, only boys."

"And I'm a girl."

"Yes, you're a girl."

"Mama, do you know what girls have?"

"Um, no."

"BUTTS."

"Yeah, but boys have butts too, Skylar."

"Not in the front!"

Reason #2:  (spoken very loudly, inside a very crowded restaurant)

"Skylar, finish eating."

"Okay mama, I'm gonna finish eating."

"Thank you."

"All my food, mama.  I'm gonna finish all my food."

"Good."

"That way I can get big, mama.  And then I can have BOOBIES."

Still growing

I honestly don't think I could ever properly convey the phenomenon that is Skylar's hair.

But this comes close.

It'll put hair on your chest

"It's eggplant.  I grilled it and then put mozzarella cheese on top."

(chewing) "It's okay."

"Scott, what do you mean it's okay?  You don't like it?"

"No, I do like it.  It's just that it's missing something."

"What?  Like a spice or something?"

"No...like meat."

Ashlyn gets baptized

This morning Ashlyn got baptized. And I really don't know what the heck is up with the camera, but all the pictures have a yellowish background. I have a very nice camera, and because it's so big it's a little hard to stick it in my purse so for Christmas Scott bought me a very nice, very small camera specifically to carry in my purse, and I still don't understand what setting the little dial needs to be on for the pictures to be any good.

Just about everyone we know came to church with us this morning, and Roni (my sister-in-law) sang How Great Thou Art and my gosh if you weren't there then wow did you miss out. I asked her to sing something that would bring the house down. Well, she had a standing ovation before she even finished the song. Amazing. Simply amazing.

Anyway, if anyone knows how to work my specific type of camera, let me know. Because my SLR is a lot easier than this point-and-shoot thing.

iPhone

I can't say enough about it.  

The only thing better than my new iPhone is doing anything with my new iPhone INSIDE THE MINIVAN.  

I hate that minivan by the way.  I'll admit, I was a little unsure as to whether or not I'd like driving a minivan, but I bit the bullet and bought one, then about a week later I was sitting there and it was like "Whoa, this thing is AWESOME!  Look at the doors!  They open by themselves!  Look at all the room we have!  And XM radio.  And a DVD.  And the leather smells so nice.  I LOVE THIS MINIVAN."

But you know what?  I had a lot of room, XM radio, a DVD, and leather (it smelled a little like spoiled milk but anyway) in my other car, and that car was paid for.  I loved that car.  I miss that car.  So basically it all boils down to the automatic doors, and really, am I that lazy that I can't use a door handle and pull open a door?  And the minivan has a sunroof, and I hate sunroofs.  And as weird as it sounds, there is no storage in the minivan.  Honestly, where am I supposed to put the DVD cases for the DVD we are watching?  There is no place to put them other than the floor.  I can't figure it out.  I'm riding around in a spacious minivan and there's no place to put all my crap.  It's maddening.  Then yesterday a CD got stuck in the changer.  So the screen popped up a message that said CD STUCK-YOU'RE SCREWED.   

So I've decided I hate it, and I hate driving it.  I'm buying me a Saab.  What?  All my kids won't fit?  WHERE DO I SIGN?  

Cuddle buddies

All the blogging I could do

The other day as I was watching Ashlyn and Haley beat the ever loving crap out of each other I thought "Wow, I should make a blog or something so I can keep everyone up to date on what these kids are doing."  Then I remembered Oh yeah.  

Tomorrow April is coming to spend the night so we can get up Saturday morning and run 3.1 miles voluntarily.  Not only is this voluntary, but we also paid the people to let us do it.  April is hoping to set some kind of record.  I am hoping not to die.

This should be very entertaining, however probably not as entertaining as this afternoon, when Jenny said "Let's go feed the ducks!" and so we took my 4 and her 2 and picked up Grandma and went to the lake.  There was a small mishap at the lake, and there are no pictures of it, simply because instead of taking pictures I was too busy trying to decide if I was gonna laugh it off or be pissed. 

See, there was some mud at the lake, and Skylar comes hauling right through the middle of it and somehow she doesn't fall, but her shoes are sucked right off her feet into the puddle.  And Jenny and I are all "Oh no!  Look out for the mud!" but Mary Kate either doesn't hear us or just decides to ignore us and she tries to run right through it and the next thing you know she's naked and crying and Jenny is using a baby wipe trying to get her cleaned up and so I'm all "Look!  We told you guys to watch out for the mud!" and wouldn't you know it right after that Owen is naked right beside Mary Kate and we're out of wipes.  

And no one could understand why we had to leave.  It's no wonder I seldom leave my house anymore.

All-knowing

"Hey Mama, you know what's totally not fair?"

"You mean other than life?"

Asking all runners

I'm running in a 5K on my birthday.  

Yeah, I'm just gonna let you soak that in for a minute.  Amber, quit laughing.

I am not a runner, I have never been a runner, but I've decided that I'm getting old and I need to exercise more so I can live a long, healthy life despite the massive amounts of alcohol I consume on a daily basis.  

I've also managed to bully April and Jenny into running with me, so if any of you are lacking for entertainment you really need to come watch.  I started "training" about three weeks ago and I'm currently at about a 10-minute mile pace.  I am not at that pace because I'm a decent runner though, I'm at that pace because running is boring as hell and I'm basically trying to get finished as quickly as I can.  I started off just seeing what I could do and tried to run a 12-minute mile pace and almost died right there it was so freaking boring.  The next week I bumped it up to a 6 mph pace just to shave off 6 minutes of the monotony.  Watching the tv on the treadmill helps tremendously, and I have no idea how I will possibly run 3.1 miles without being able to watch Live! with Regis and Kelly or the E! True Hollywood Story on the Kardashians.  But besides the boredom, here's my biggest problem:  I cannot pace myself off the treadmill.  So when I'm running out on the road I have no idea how fast I'm going.

The only thing I can figure out is that I should run on the treadmill at a 10-minute mile pace and scroll through my ipod for songs that I can run on the beat to?  Does this sound right?  Or should I just let April worry about the pace and just run with her?