When it All Comes Crashing Down

Some days, I can really see that I am doing an ok job with my boys. They are respectful and they (sometimes) listen. Just recently I have taught Josiah to use the potty and Oliver is really advanced in his verbal skills for a 14 month old. For the most part, they are excellent boys and while I can not take all the credit for that, I like to think that by choosing to stay home with them and taking an active part in their everyday life that I am at least contributing to it.

Then, there are days like today when I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. From the moment I opened my eyes this morning things started going downhill. It was after 8am and everyone was still asleep, myself included. I never use an alarm because for two years I have had an alarm in two small children. Sleeping past eight would have been a joy on Monday, Wednesday or Friday morning but today we had to get ready for pre-school and Josiah's morning routine is so intricate that you simply can NOT skip a step. We had to get up, get dressed and use the potty. Eat breakfast and use the potty again. Get our backpack together and head to school in less than thirty minutes. And don't forget, I have to drag poor Oliver around with us step for step. He is such a champ!

So I burst into Josiah's room with extra gusto saying, "We're late, we're late, we're late, for a very important date!" (Alice in Wonderland is a big hit around here). He groans to me, "Don't wake me up Mommy." Um, when did he turn into a teenager? I looked into his crib and wouldn't you know it, he was covered in throw up. "Oh Josiah! What happened? Are you sick?" I asked him. "I throw up in my crib mama." He says.

I took off his dirty pajamas and his diaper. Then stripped his bed and threw everything into the wash. Including poor Woody who took one for the team and got his cowboy outfit completely hosed down in toddler barf. Then I came back to Josiah who was sitting patiently on his changing table. "Are you sick?" I asked again. "No, I feelin so goooood." he says. I take his temperature. 97.7. I put him in the shower and cleaned him up, combed his hair and got him dressed. "I go to school Mama. I learn the letter f. " He says. "Your sure?" I ask. 'Uhhh huhhhh." he tells me.
Ok! Must have been a fluke! We are back on track.

Skipping potty time (gasp!), I flew into Oliver's room. He sat up sleepy eyed and said, "Ma-Ma." Ah. He is such a sweetie. I barely talked to him and got him dressed all the while with Josiah yelling, "Bubby tired Mama! Put him back to bed!" We went to the kitchen and I gave each boy a banana and a cereal bar and said, "We are eating in the car today, we're late!" I felt a twinge of guilt thinking of everything that is wrong with kids nutrition and meals to go and random food like cereal bars but decided that one morning eating breakfast in the car in two years isn't that bad and continued on.

"I wanna wear my cowboy boots Mommy." Josiah tells me. "Not today. They aren't for school." I say. "I wanna WEAR EM!" he screams and starts to cry. "Ok whatever, go get them." I grumble thinking how crazy they are going to look with his polo and corduroys but at this point it isn't worth the battle. He comes running down the hall carrying one boot and the other is on the wrong foot. "I neeeeeeed HELP!" he say's looking desperate. We sit down and get his boots on. I put a jacket on him and put his backpack on his back. I pick up Oliver and we walk to the front porch. I was standing next to Josiah and still holding Oliver. Then, as if I was watching an instant re-play in slow motion Josiah fell from the top step face first, onto the concrete. For a moment everything stopped and I was frozen, Josiah was frozen and there was no sound. I screamed, "JOSIAH!" and he began to cry. I ran down the stairs and lunged poor Ollie into the grass. He began to wail loudly along with Josiah and simultaneous screams were echoing down Estelle Park Drive.

I was honestly scared to move Josiah. My mind was racing thinking back to my first aid class and how you aren't supposed to move hurt people. What if his face was stuck to the sidewalk? In my two years as mother I haven't seen anything like this before. He was still face down on the concrete when I eventually lifted him up. His entire face was covered in blood and I felt my heart drop. I started crying which totally freaked Josiah out even more. I was running around holding him and looking for my phone, meanwhile Oliver was still sitting in the grass crying. If social services had been there they would have taken them away from me. I have never felt less capable of watching children in my life.

I brought both boys inside, found my phone and called Jaime. He talked to me and calmed me down, then he talked to Josiah and calmed him down. I washed the blood off his face with a warm wash cloth and asked him if he needed to go to the doctor? "NO!! I no go Doctor!! Bubby get hurt at the doctor!! (Shots.)" I took off his cowboy boots and got him his blanket. We turned on Mickey Mouse and suddenly all was right in the world. I made him real breakfast and let him eat at the dining room table. I gave Oliver a bottle and a banana and tried to give him a little love too.

Being a Mommy is the hardest job in the whole world! I seriously can't take my eyes off of either of them for a second. Crazy stuff happens even when my eyes ARE on them! Having two so young is at times, nearly impossible. I can't give either of them adequate attention and am left feeling like a total basket case. What if something happens to one of them? I can't believe pretty much anyone can have a baby and bring it home from the hospital without any prior knowledge or a basic set of instructions. I mean, I like to think I am way ahead of most people in the parenting area and if I can't even do it, what is going on at other people's houses? How do kids make it through the toddler years in one piece?

In the end, Josiah got to skip school and go have a picnic with Daddy. I remembered to teach him that FALL begins with the letter F so he wouldn't get behind. As in, "I fall down the stairs Mama." When I put him down for his nap he was seriously banged up but he was smiling. I guess I can't ask for much else. Please wish me luck the next 16 years and pray hard!

Run.

I am not sure when my fascination with running began. I know when I started running...it was summer of 2005 and Jaime and I had been married two and a half years. I was only 22. Living with him was a journey and a learning process those first couple of years. One of the biggest adjustments was that he was a vegetarian. Growing up, every meal I had included a meat, a veggie and a starch. You know, homemade chicken pie, green beans and mashed potatoes. Triple Yum. I had the option of only water or milk to drink and we never had desserts or sweets unless it was someones birthday. Enter Mr. Conley.

Jaime is tall, dark and handsome. He is also super skinny which is totally unfair because he eats like a maniac. Yes, he avoids all meat products but likes to replace them with pizza, ramen noodles, french fries and cinnamon rolls. It was a BLAST cooking with Jaime in the beginning. I had never actually purchased mozzarella sticks from the frozen food section and now I could. It was awesome! Also, he worked nights at David's Deli and would call me around 9pm to ask if I wanted anything. Um, duh! Oh and did I mention my drink of choice was beer and lots of it? I got away with this for about one year with no visible weight gain. I was tall, skinny and young. It never occurred to me to workout. Then, two and a half years in I saw this picture of myself.

That picture would crack me up if it wasn't so terrifying! Another wake up call? On a trip to the OB/GYN she suggested that I switch birth control because the super low estrogen kind wasn't as effective for someone at my weight. AH! What had happened to me?And I am not gonna tell you how much I weighed, but I will say that is was just 3 pounds less than when I delivered Josiah (Who I gained 35 pounds with). I had to do something. So, I went for a run.

In the beginning, I was running to lose weight. That's it. I didn't really like it but I just wanted to be skinny again. I could run 8 minutes without stopping and I remember the day I ran my first whole mile. I signed up for my first 5K and did it in 31 minutes. I started to talk about running more and feeling like I was such an athlete. I did lose weight but suddenly it was about much more than that. I was doing something that I really cared about. I started exercising more and more and over 2 years I lost all of that weight only to get pregnant with Josiah and gain it all back.
After I had Josiah I jumped back in, full swing ahead. I even signed up for a half marathon when he was just 5 months old. I think this is the point where I went from trying to be skinny to a real runner. I started logging my miles and doing more than I ever thought I could. Now working out had the added benefit of dropping off the baby in childwatch. Woohoo! I went everyday! I did the Wilmington half in 2 hours and 17 minutes.And when it was over I said, "I am never running again." It nearly killed me and when I got to the finish line I had to take off my stinky sports bra and nurse a baby. Whew!

Again, I lost all of the weight only in time to find out, surprise, I was pregnant again! What??? I gained 40 pounds with Oliver and was starting to feel a little like Oprah with all of the fluctuating. Still, I can't look at this picture and not think it possibly the prettiest I have ever looked.

So here we are 14 months after this picture was taken and I have had an amazing year. Running has become like my best girlfriend. I have my two ( well, 3) precious boys who consume 90% of my time and then I have running. It is always there and always makes me feel better. I am currently in the best shape of my whole life and had a record year for races. I started out the season with the Shamrock 10K in March, followed by the Cooper River Bridge run, Sunset Stampede 10 miler, The Asheville Citizen Time's Half Marathon and most recently The Bethal Half Marathon.

After the Asheville Half I again stated that, "I am never running again." but that never lasts long. For 3 weeks I relaxed, hit the pool, went to cycling class and only logged 1 run over 5 miles. I was in fall mode. Then I saw an ad in the Citizen Times for the Bethal Half Marathon saying that it was, "a relatively (its all relaitive right?) flat, beautiful 13.1 mile course with homemade soup at the finish line. I decided to sign up on Th ursday night and the race was on Saturday which left me no time to train since I had to rest on Friday. I didn't know what was going to happen on race day but had to trust in myself that I could do it.

So last Saturday morning I drove to Waynesville though numerous cow pastures and rolling hills. I bumped into Jim, my pacer from the ACT Half and we decided to run together. He told me that I was a great runner and if I did the Asheville course in 2:10 then I could this "flat one (ha.)" in 1:55. "Um, are you sure?" I asked him. 'Oh yeah." he says. I didn't mention that I hadn't been running for 3 weeks and took off with him at the gun. We had a nice 7 miles together where we talked about running and how he can't wait to turn 65 so that can qualify for Boston. (Note: Qualifying times go up to 4:30 when you are 65). Jim is very small. Like, 5 feet and 130 pounds. He is grandfatherly and truly awesome. He is wise and say's all the right things. He is also a major pain the ass. This is Jim.
When I get excited and a good song comes on the ipod I have a tendency to take off. Jim will bring me back saying something like, "You're going too fast, for every minute you race in the beginning you'll lose a minute in the end." And I'm all like, 'but Timebomb is on the Ipod!" and he's like, "Slow down."

So around mile 7 he says, " How ya feelin." and I say, "Ugh, ok." and he says, "You should be feeling like you could do this all day. You should be extremely comfortable." I wanted to tell Jim that I wasn't extremely comfortable b/c we were running 8:50 miles on a course that was NOT flat and I like to run a little slower than that. Instead I just said, "I'll slow down if I need to." We kept on until mile 10 which we reached in 1:29 (holy crap!). I told Jim to race it out for the both of us and I put on the breaks. Around 1:41, I got to mile 11 and decided it would be a good time to walk. The very second I began to walk , with no warning what so ever, I puked. Like out of my nose and all over myself. It was an out of body, humiliating experience. Having never puked from running before I guess you could say it was a milestone. As I was puking an overweight woman in a knee brace passed me. I wanted to strangle Jim.

By my watch I could do just under 15 minute miles for the last 2 miles and still beat my Asheville time, which is all I wanted to do anyway. I made it to the finish in 2:08 and once again said, "I am never running again."


Pre once said, "You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement." And in the spirit of this quote, something tell's me this break from running won't last either.