Motherhood, with Benefits

So you become a mom for the first time. And in an instant, your view shifts from “just the two of us” to “holy crap, there are more than two of us.” I remember after the initial days and weeks the panic slowly faded, and I started sinking into a new and comfortable groove, grateful for having my mom and sister close to reassure me that I could figure this whole mom-thing out. And this more inward focus on our new family was fine and dandy for years, with no big changes on the horizon – other than throwing in another kid for good measure.

And then you blink and your oldest starts school. You let them out into the world, and their world expands.

When Alex came home from his first day of kindergarten, he was beaming. I was beaming. My beaming was along the lines of: “Thank God he survived his first day on a yellow bus.” His beaming was from a different place entirely: “Mommy, I have a best friend!” And he had an art project to prove it. He unrolled a big piece of blue construction paper and on it was a school bus cut carefully from yellow construction paper. And on the bus were two boys, drawn in crayon. In the drawing they were smiling. One was labeled “Alex” and the other “Grey.”

I am guessing Alex probably has no memory of this. But for me, it was one of those indelible childhood moments I will always remember. His first best friend.

And then I slowly discovered that one of the fringe benefits of my sons making new friends is that I would make amazing friendships as well. People I would probably never have met, if not for their friendships. Incredible, empowering, unique, and brave women who touch my life daily.

And by brave, I mean brave. About half way through kindergarten I met Grey’s mom, Amy. She invited Alex over for a playdate, and since it was one of his first, I was clueless on the protocol. Do I stay? Do I go? But because I didn’t want to intrude on her time we ended up speaking only briefly when I dropped him off and picked him up.

A few months later, it was the end of year picnic at day care. Alex and Grey, and another close friend Nick, raced in potato-sacks.  Amy, Nick’s mom Laura, and I sat casually on the grass and chit-chatted like we had not a care in the world. For good reason. The school year was winding down. We had all survived Kindergarten.

And then that same night Laura called. She had found out through another friend that Amy was sick. Really sick. This of course was impossible, because we had just been sitting on a picnic blanket eating brownies and watching the boys jump around in potato sacks. But it was true. Amy had Stage III breast cancer at the age of 32.

She hadn’t told us at the picnic. Maybe because she didn’t think it was the right time. Or maybe because we were all still getting to know each other. But I’m thinking that maybe she wanted to have just one more day, one more moment, of “normal.” Because that summer became the fight for Amy’s life.

It is not my place to tell Amy’s story about how she fought to hell and back. But I can tell you I have never seen anything like it. Her faith, her positivity, her focus, her dignity, her unflinching determination in the face of her diagnosis, taught me and everyone around her what true courage looks like.

And somehow, in the midst of this fight, friendships bloomed. Through surgery, chemo, radiation, pain. Because that is the kind of person Amy is. And I am now fortunate to count Amy among my closest friends. A friend I never would have had if it weren’t for Alex and Grey.

So as we head towards Mother’s Day this weekend, I would like to thank my sons. Not only for making me a mother, but for opening the doors of friendship to women who stare down cancer, run marathons, are speech therapists, play ice hockey, earn PhD’s, make me laugh so hard I can’t speak, volunteer for countless hours at school, work tirelessly for non-profits, and welcomed me with open arms as the new kid on the block in our neighborhood.

This was the bonus of becoming a mom that truly had never crossed my mind, but has become one of Motherhood’s greatest gifts.

Alex and Grey ~ 3rd grade ~ and still bus buddies. :)

Proud

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop. ~ Mother Theresa.


Back in early September we moved into a new neighborhood. It was very close to our old hood so the transition wasn't too bad for the kids, but it still was "new" and different, and we weren't sure how we'd fit in. And then I decided to post on Facebook about my interest in collecting for Operation Christmas Child, and was so touched by the generosity of my friends, along with people I was just beginning to know in our new neighborhood. All of us coming together to carry on Jack Donaldson's love of Operation Christmas Child. I am so proud to count these people as my friends.


Today the boys and I dropped 23 boxes off at an area church serving as a collection point. The staff working to pack all the donated boxes into larger boxes for shipping were so touched by the delivery, and asked where the boxes came from and if I had ever donated before. I stared at them, not sure what (or how much) to say. I told them I had never heard of Operation Christmas Child until this September.


I also told them the donations came from friends, neighbors, and strangers, all wanting to help the memory of a dear young boy live on through his favorite charity. I told them his name was Jack Donaldson, and as soon as I said his name out loud I started crying. These strangers all hugged me. They all knew who Jack was from the news about the accident. They couldn't have been nicer. They fed the boys brownies. They were so grateful for the donation.


23 boxes. 
23 drops in the ocean. 
23 children who will smile at Christmas. 
I know Jack is proud.



Miles run since last post: 11
Total miles run so far this year: 133
Miles left to go: 232
(as of 11/19/11)

I Have a Dream...

So Alex comes home not too long ago, very excited to tell me about a new project in his class called "Heroes of History." Each student in the 3rd grade has been assigned a famous historical figure to represent in a wax museum of sorts, where they will "dress like the hero in clothing resembling the time period" and recite a speech about their hero and their contribution to history. This all sounds awesome, super educational, and fun.

However, I must admit, that all I can think of when Alex comes home *absolutely beaming* to tell me he has been assigned none other than Martin Luther King, Jr., is "what on earth am I going to do for a costume?" I am so happy that he is excited, but seriously? My blonde haired, green eyed boy acting as a wax figure of Martin Luther King, Jr.? Honestly, my first reaction is that this just seems wrong and disrespectful somehow - and almost out of a script from Modern Family. How do I make Alex appear like Martin Luther King, Jr. without crossing some line, offending someone, or becoming a story on the nightly news?

Time to brainstorm. Okay, when I think of Martin Luther King, Jr. I think classy, dark 60's style suit.  Problem is, my son is 8 and there isn't anything remotely close to a suit in his closet (please don't judge). And to be honest, this option sorta irritated me, because it meant we'd have to either borrow or buy one and I am frankly too lazy and cheap.

And then it hits me. A t-shirt. All it should say is: "I HAVE A DREAM." One quick Google search later and I am in business:

I am excited, Alex is excited, his teacher loves the idea, and best of all we won't end up on the news. Okay, costume problem solved.

Now on to the project itself - researching and writing a speech about your hero. Alex is home sick this week and we decide to take advantage of the quiet time at home to get started. I am nervous about how to explain what Martin Luther King, Jr. went through, what he fought for, and what ultimately happened to him. I know it will make Alex very sad, so we start at the beginning and talk about how brave he was. I am re-learning history myself, and I am amazed at what I either didn't know, or had forgotten, including the fact that Martin Luther King Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize at the age of 35. The youngest recipient ever.

We talk about the Civil Rights Movement and I gently explain how it wasn't too long ago that black children were not allowed to go to the same schools as white children, that they had to sit in different parts of restaurants, use different water fountains, and couldn't even sit together on a bus. Alex's mouth literally drops open in disbelief at these statements before he pretty much sums it up: "Are you kidding me? Who's crazy idea was that?"

Exactly, Alex. Exactly. "I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." The fact that an 8 year old white child is representing him at an event like this is JUST the kind of dream Dr. King was talking about. And I know Alex, my son of real character, will make him proud.

T-shirt and all.


Miles run since last post: 16
Total miles run so far this year: 122
Miles left to go: 243
(as of 11/2/11)

Multitasking

A key survival skill of adulthood - and especially motherhood - is mastering the art of multitasking. At work, when I am not wearing my "mom hat," I've somehow got this one pretty much figured out. But sadly, on the homefront, not so much. It is not for lack of trying, I just find it really hard to juggle more than one thing at a time.

Perhaps it is the mental exhaustion at the end of a long work day. Perhaps it is three males all talking to me at once - and for the most part all asking me for something. But in a nutshell, there just are days when I know my fuse is simply too short. I am too tired. And I get frazzled if you look at me the wrong way.

So I need to accept that I will never be *that* woman who can gracefully cook an elaborate family meal and have it ready every night at 6:00 p.m. sharp, while simultaneously helping the kids with homework and overseeing piles of laundry. The more likely scenario in my house: dinner never makes it to the table and we end up eating cereal, I lose my patience five minutes into the "practice spelling test," (convinced my son will never know how to spell the word "diary" depsite the fact that all he reads is "Diary of a Wimpy Kid"), and the clothes stay in the dryer too long and end up hopelessly wrinkled and unfortunately a little bit smaller.

So imagine my delight when it occured to me that I could effectively multitask during Alex's recent soccer practice. I was almost giddy that I had the brain cells left in my head at the end of the day to figure out that while he practiced nearby I could either a) sit in my soccer mom chair staring at my Blackberry, or b) get off my duff and run around the school track. I am so glad I thought of this a full 2 minutes before soccer practice started so I could quickly change into my running clothes - and then proceed to play it off like it was my plan all along.

Of course we were painfully late for practice, but I still managed to run around the track at his school (and by "run" I mean jogged a little, walked a little) for just about 2 miles. I can't tell you how great it felt to get these two things done at the same time. Could there be hope for me yet?

Miles run since last update: 33
Miles run total this year: 106
Miles to go: 259

Jack

It has been a long time since I have blogged about my adventures in running this year. Between the summer heat, moving out of one house and into another, I literally feel like the summer passed me by. Okay, let's just face it. I also got incredibly lazy. There it is. But we are finally settling into our new home, and with cooler weather upon us I am running out of excuses. So it is time to begin again anew. No more putting it off for another day. For we are not promised another day, as I have been so achingly reminded of this past week.

As most of you know from my recent Facebook posts, Anna, a friend since high school youth group days - and one of my sister's closest friends - tragically lost her beloved son Jack last Thursday in the catastrophic flooding we had here in Virginia. Since that time, I have felt like I was living in a suspended state of reality, one minute crying uncontrollably for the loss Anna is experiencing, another minute cursing - yes, I am sorry to say cursing - God for taking Jack away from his family, and then another minute in total denial that it even happened. And if this is what I am going through, imagine what Anna and those closest to her family are experiencing.

I have heard from many friends who didn't even know Anna that they have been brought to their knees by what has happened to her family. And I have to believe that this outpouring of support from family, friends, and strangers has to be buoying all of them. So thank you. And please keep Anna, Tim, and their lovely daughter Margaret in your ongoing prayers.

Far more eloquent posts have been published about the miracle we all witnessed when Anna stood before more than 1,000 people and flawlessly paid tribute to Jack at his memorial service. Somehow, inexplicably, she managed to make us laugh, cry, and reflect upon her son's amazing 12 years. His strong, unflinching faith, his sincerity and kindness, his love for his family, his ability to be truly and purely joyful, his uniqueness. We all came to know better this precious boy who loved God and legos. And as I write this, I am looking at the cross made of legos that many of us wore at Jack's memorial service. As my sister said, "Jack would have loved this."

If I learned anything from the living nightmare of this past week, anything at all, it would be to take not one second for granted. I am holding my boys tighter, snuggling longer, and kissing them even more (much to their embarrassment). I am telling people that I love them. A lot. I am going to keep doing this, too. So, get used to it. And I am going to start running again. Because I can. Because I have been blessed with another day on this Earth.

Play with legos. Love your family. Be joyful. Run. For Jack.

Look! Mommy's Jumping Over Fire!

Perhaps the greatest thing to ever happen to a 5k is the Warrior Dash. For someone like me, who loathes the monotony of running, it is incredible. Yesterday was my second Warrior Dash, which combines a 5k distance with 12 obstacles and is billed as the "craziest frickin' day of your life." On Sunday, this was pretty accurate.

Peace. Love. MUD!

I designed my own shirt for the race that read, "Peace. Love. MUD!" But I had no idea how prolific these words would be as the race unfolded. My work friends Jenn, Kirsten and I started the race when the fire guns blasted into the sky at 12:00 p.m. Another friend from work, Lori, is somewhere ahead of us in the pack of 550 people in this wave of the race. Because there are so many people, and the 3 of us are positioned near the back, there is an immediate bottleneck. The trail is narrow, so we don't run for several minutes, but we finally get to our first obstacle which is a series of bungee cords you have to make your way through. Not difficult, but it slowed everyone down again. After that, it finally breaks up enough for us to run, and when we start splashing through a creek I finally thought, "Now this is more like it!"  And then came the mud....

For about a mile, we sloshed our way though mud that was at least ankle - and sometimes up to knee - deep. It was like quicksand; it sucked the shoes right off your feet and was so slippery you literally couldn't run. All energy and focus is spent trying to stay upright, which is nearly impossible. I keep thinking to myself, "this can't go on too much longer." Well, it does. And to make matters worst, in the midst of all of this muddy chaos I become separated from Jenn and Kirsten. All the people, all the mud, oh the humanity.

It seems like we have been going through mud forever and then we come to the walls. Up and over a bunch of wooden walls - how hard can this be? Well, when they are close to chest high and you are up to your ankles in mud, it literally takes everything we have to hoist ourselves up and over these barriers. I jump down from one wall and end up in mud up to my thighs. It is insane. And I am 5' 8", so I really don't know how people shorter than myself manage to get over these things. This was not a difficult obstacle during my last Warrior Dash (the walls were much shorter), and I had assured my friends that the walls would be no big deal. I could only imagine they were all cursing me right about now.

Yes, I paid good money to do this to myself...

Emerging from the walls we of course are greeted by yet more mud. I have managed to keep my hands somewhat clean up until this point, but now it's time to crawl on our hands and knees through a mud tunnel. Finally we come out from the forest and emerge back near the starting area. Completely spent, I see a giant cargo net looming ahead of me. Then I spot Chris and the kids waving to me from an observation area. Time to put on my happy face and look like I am having fun!

I have no trouble getting up to the top of the cargo net, but once I swing my leg over the other side I can't find my footing. It doesn't help that I am at the very edge of the net, with a 12 foot drop straight to the ground right next to me. For the first time I am genuinely scared. How in the hell am I going to get down? I swing my other leg over, hold on tight, and am able to find a rung to put my foot in. Phew. I breath a huge sigh of relief as I make it down the other side. The next obstacle is climbing over a big haystack while going uphill. Now my mud covered legs are coated with hay. It's really quite the fashion statement.

Finally, the half-way water stop. I use a few cups of water just to try and wash all the mud off my hands, but it is pointless. Looming before us in the blazing sun is the rest of the very hilly course. As my friend Lori said after the race, it is kind of a blur at this point. But I remember stepping through tires on the ground, and then going through a bunch of tires that are hanging above us. Nothing too difficult.

Time to have some fun!

More dusty hills and then the most incredible obstacle EVER. And it couldn't have come at a better time since by this point the heat has really taken its toll. I can only describe it as an adult-sized slip-n-slide! We slid down a huge hill that was covered in a tarp and hosed down by a sprinkler. I could not believe how fast we went flying down that hill. So much fun. The exhilaration definitely pumps me up and I know we have to be getting close to the finish. A nice woman encourages a bunch of us by cheering "let's go, let's go!" as we all run up a very steep hill. When we get to the top I figured that was it, but there is yet another big hill to go. It is even too much for our cheerleader to bear. All she can say is, "Oh crap." But we finally make it to the top and I can hear the crowd in the distance as we approach the finish.

Coming down the last hill, there are the two fire jumps - which for some reason are my favorite obstacle of the course. And this is legit fire. Duraflame logs, hot coals, the works. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it is just very empowering to conquer something that would usually terrify me.

The flames are quite a "motivator" to jump nice and high!

Rounding the last bend, it is on to the very last obstacle - the obligatory mud pit. As I crawl through, I look to my left and there is Alex cheering me on through the whole thing. It is great to have him with me at the end of the race. Crossing the finish line felt amazing.


I did it! :)

Jenn, Kirsten, and Lori all had a great race too. We were all exhausted, but happy - and we'll forever be able to share with each other our experiences of the race.  All four of us are moms - strong moms at that - and I am proud to know these great women and count them as my friends.


Kirsten, Jenn and I after the race.

I am sure my boys (and my dear husband!) think I am somewhat crazy for doing a race like this. But I really hope to teach my sons is that life is what you make of it. Of course I don't want them to be reckless. And I consider myself to be a very cautious person. But it is so easy to go through the motions of the day-to-day and next thing you know life is passing you by. I hope to instill in them both a sense of fun and adventure and a desire to be the best they can be at whatever they chose to do. And I also hope that by seeing their mom finish a race like this they will realize that they can do anything they set their minds to. And once they've accomplished a goal they have for themselves, no one can ever take that away from them.

The boys greeting me at the finish line. Who can ask for more?

Miles run since last post: 5
Miles run total to date: 73
Miles to go: 292

Two Girls on the Run

Today was a great day for two reasons. First, and most importantly, I ran 3 of my most memorable miles of the year. I had the honor of participating in my second Girls on the Run 5k race as a "buddy runner" to an amazing young woman, Julie Foster. This was our second race, our first being last December on an incredibly cold day. The excitement of Julie's first race, combined with the freezing temperatures, made for an exhilarating race.

Today's race was muggy and the course was very hilly. Most of the race took us around Patriot's Circle at my alma mater of George Mason University. For the life of me I don't recall that circle being so hilly, but then again I was literally half my age when I last ran that circle. Wow, that's a brutal reality check...

Anyway, Julie told me early in the race that she really, really wanted to beat our previous race time from December, which was a little over 41 minutes (quite impressive, in my opinion, for an 8 year old and a slow poke 40 year old). I was so impressed that a 3rd grader had set a goal for herself like this and I was going to do everything I could to help her achieve it.

Despite the temperature and elevation challenges, we gave it everything we had. The race itself is absolutely packed with people as each girl must have a buddy runner and schools from throughout Northern VA participate. Julie and I were in the last pack of runners to start and we spent a good bit of our time and energy just weaving in and out around slower runners and the throngs of people walking (I so wish the course marshals had been calling out for walkers to stay to the right...).

At about mile 2 we came to a point in the course where we had to turn back around and I was amazed to see how many people were behind us. Despite the fact that we were one of the last people to start the race, we had somehow managed to pass hundreds and hundreds of people. Julie and I high-fived each other with excitement. This accomplishment alone really gave us the push we needed.

We power walked a few times for only very brief periods, but I could tell from my watch that we were ahead of our pace from our last race. As we began to round the bend for the finish I knew she would blow her time out of the water. With about 50 yards left, Julie turned on the jets and we blasted across the finish line with an impressive time of 36:45. For her little legs to take her that far and that fast is amazing to me. With her mom (and my dear friend) Kathy, her dad and brother proudly watching on, Julie achieved her goal - and then some. I was so privileged to be a part of it.

Today was also great because this race finally took me to under 300 miles - a big milestone for me! Yes, it is one I should have reached quite a while ago, but I am counting my blessings that it is finally here. I can't think of a better day to break 300 miles - and I will always remember where I was when it happened.

Miles run since last post: 15
Miles run total to date: 68
Miles to go: 297