Break-through #1
I watched this video yesterday. Watch it. Go ahead. I'll wait. It's three minutes. And worth it. Please. Go ahead... You kinda need to watch it, just so you'll understand the next little bit.
Good little flick, eh? Even if you're not a mom, you HAVE a mom. You can relate. Neat perspective, huh? I'm not a mom who struggles with much. I know there's always room for improvement, but at the end of the day, I love my kids. My kids love me. We're happy, healthy, and well-adjusted. We laugh. We color. We craft. We eat healthy foods. My house is clean enough for my standards. I take care of my family AND I take care of myself. We go places. We make memories. We're happy.
But every so often, doubt creeps in. What if I'm doing it "wrong?" What if I'm doing too much FOR them? What if I'm expecting too much OF them? What am I doing TO them? All these prepositions...
This morning, Halloween, I was getting the kids ready for school. Daniel declared in May that he wanted to be Batman. Last week, he altered his costume to Batman-Spiderman. His idea was to take "a little bit of Batman and a little bit of Spiderman and SMOOSH them together." Lia wanted to be Hello Kitty, my least favorite of her picks. I had my doubts that we could pull this off (See that? Doubt.). I have to admit, I was a little stressed about getting two kids into costume and out the door in under an hour, especially because both kids' costumes required face paint. Our morning went something like this:
"Sit RIGHT. HERE. and DON'T. MOVE."
"If you don't eat that poptart in the next three minutes, you CAN.NOT be Batman-Spiderman."
"Lia. Look at mommy. LOOK at mommy. Look at MOMMY. Not down. AT MOMMY."
"Quit squinting. Quit moving. Quit blinking. QUIT."
When I finished Daniel's mask, he ran off to look at himself in the mirror. I (figuratively) held my breath. It looked less than stellar and not at all like what I had envisioned. He came tearing back into the kitchen, breathless. "I. LOOK. AWESOME!!!!!" I exhaled and smiled - a big enough smile to match his own. Silly doubt. Silly, silly doubt.
Lia was just as thrilled with her face paint. She twirled her skirt, meowed, twisted, hopped, and sang in her sweet little voice, "I'm Hello Kitty cat on happy Halloween!" My doubt was cast aside. My kids were thrilled. Here's a little peak:
Doug and I run. A lot. Neither of us strive to set any records, win any races, or become any sort of national phenomenon. But we enjoy the challenge, the endorphins, and the health benefits associated with running. We ran our first half-marathon in April (see this blog for more details). We ran the Space City 10 Miler just three weeks ago. We're running our second half-marathon in 9 days. We run. But you see, I've never said the words, "I am a runner." It somehow seemed like I hadn't earned the right to actually call myself a "runner."
This morning, while walking Hello Kitty into class, another mom and I were chatting about Halloween and other stuff. We'd never talked before, but we wave and say hi twice a week. She said to me, "I always see you in workout clothes up here. Do you always work out after you drop your little girl?" I replied, "I'm a runner." It felt amazing to say those words. According to RunKeeper, I've run 647 miles in the last year. I think I've finally earned the right to call myself a runner. It felt great. Look. I'm gonna say it again. I am a runner. :o)
Happy Thursday, y'all.
