a very long post...how april vacation ended up...(love that dirty water)

Well. This has been quite a week.

On Monday, after writing about how much I love watching the marathon and someday hope to run it myself...we all know what happened. I haven't lived in Boston for several years now, but I did live there for several years and still live nearby. I know and love that city so well. I know every neighborhood, and probably almost every street. That stretch of Boylston Street is (was?) my very favorite spot from which to view the Boston Marathon. Seeing those runners approach the finish line was so very magical and inspiring to me. Marathon Day, also Patriots' Day, is something unique to Boston. It's a special, happy day for Bostonians. The atmosphere in Boston on Marathon Day is one of happiness, support, love, and respect. It's about people from a hundred countries running together in an historic race, one of the world's most elite. It's about spectators, from all walks of life, coming together on the streets to have fun together and cheer on the runners. It's a good day. It represents good things. In a world where we are so often divided, this is an event that brings people together. The spectators cheer for all the runners, from the fastest elite to those struggling to crest Heartbreak Hill and make their way to that downtown finish line. It is so uplifting and so much fun to be a part of. I have described this every year on my blog, so it's not that this event has led me to wax poetic about something I've never cared much about in the past. This is truly a special day and one of my favorite days of the year. It's hard to believe that such a positive, unifying event was interrupted the way it was. There are people who will never see, or hear, or walk, or breathe again. There are people who have months of suffering ahead of them as they learn to live without limbs. There are even more who will be haunted by the trauma they witnessed or experienced.

Today the images and video of two suspects were released. It is scary to see pictures of men walking down a street I know well, ready to kill and maim as many unsuspecting and innocent people as they can. Terrorism takes place all over the world every day. It's all really, really bad stuff. I am someone who believes (with very little exception- acute public safety situations, self defense, euthanasia...) that a human does not have the right to take another human's life. It is simply wrong. I don't care who's doing the killing or why. With that said, this particular event is especially difficult to think about because it took place in a place I love, on a day I love, in the city I love. I feel sadness and disappointment when I think about people being hurt or killed in any circumstance, but today I felt something different. Looking at those men, I felt anger. Not that aggressive, vindictive eye-for-an-eye anger I've seen (luckily only in small doses) on the internet in the last few days. That won't get us anywhere good. It only brings us to their level. But I am angry at them.

Watching those men on video, I wonder what on earth they were thinking. Why did they do it? How could they plan this? Talk about it? How could they go through with it? What did they do after they dropped off those bags? Did they go home? Did they turn on the tv to watch the results of their handiwork? Where do they live? On a street I know? Where are they now? Did they think they'd get away with it? On a day when video and security cameras were everywhere? When will they be caught? Soon, I hope. It's an uneasy feeling, knowing they're out there somewhere. Did they go on with their usual lives today? Did they go to work, or school? Go to the grocery store? Order delivery? More questions keep coming to mind. I want to be inside their heads, to understand.

Needless to say, Monday's events put me a bit off kilter for the week. On top of that, Chris was gone all week for an international business trip. He's coming home today, and I'm hoping he won't have trouble landing in Boston with the crazy security, and military and police presence that must be at the airport. On top of that, Celia came down with a stomach bug on Tuesday evening and was up all night throwing up. Luckily we were at my parents' house and my poor mom was up with her all night while I slept with Henry. Pita spent the night sleeping/throwing up in a chair in the living room, and finally lay on floor with her pillow and blanket and was sleeping there, poor little thing. Wednesday afternoon she hadn't thrown up again, so we drove home. The kids were both really good. We played outside, had dinner, did baths, and I put them to bed. Celia was still sick but had perked up a little.

On Thursday Henry went to daycare, which was amazing. I didn't want him to miss a whole week there since he already had a week off recently. This gave Celia and me a much needed day to rest and spend together. When we got home from leaving Henry, Pita lay on the couch to watch a show and ended up falling asleep and napping for a long time.

While Celia slept I was able to do meal planning and clean the house. I opened all the new windows to let some fresh air in. Celia seemed to feel much better after sleeping some more, and we went outside before lunch. Outside was just what we needed. The week had mentally exhausted me. We did some gardening, went in for lunch, and went back outside again. Celia played and helped me garden a little. She was definitely feeling much better. I did some watering and planted peas. It's hard to be too sad or stressed out when you're out in the fresh air and working in the garden. That was good. We went inside and Pita played while I took a shower.

Afternoon snack time. Almost every day I have coffee and Pita has a little snack. She always looks forward to it, and as soon as Henry's napping she asks if we can have our afternoon snack. 

We went out to get peat pots and I ended up getting broccoli and strawberry plants. Then we picked up Henry and went home to do play time, dinner, and bedtime. (Off topic, but- it's amazing how easy things are with just Celia now that she's at this age. I can actually get stuff done and take showers and everything, and we have fun together. Henry is at a fun age right now and he's so cute, but I kind of can't wait for him to be a little older because life will just be so much easier.)

We sent Daddy some pictures, too.

This was supposed to be vacation week, but I am drained. Vacations like these are for the birds. I'm glad it's over, glad I had help this week, will be relieved when my husband is home, and look forward to a good weekend with us all together.

(Edit: I wrote this last night. Early this morning we found out who the terrorists are, and there was more violence and a chase and search through an area of the city I know very well. The images on the tv are images from neighborhoods in which I've lived and streets I've walked. It will be another post in itself...)