Close your eyes, and image ME, all 170 pounds of me, RUNNING through the forest. Wearing black leggings and pink running shorts, white T-shirt. It's pretty terrifying, isn't it. (PS, it's daytime)
I've started to run during lunch, to avoid actually running away from my current position. It's like I'm pretending to make my break for freedom...but really I am.
Today I started out slow but I immediately start to feel better when the path narrows, and I have to kind of duck down under the trees... That spot, that space is so perfectly ALIVE that it makes me feel alive again too. That's where I take off running. The first time, I ran like an old man with bilateral knee replacements, but the second time I loosened it up a little- longer strides, looser hips. That felt Great!
There is something about running a tiny trail that is so different from running on a track or a street or a park. Today I figured out why. When I run, I literally run through the thick of it. I'm actually running through it,in my mind and on the path-
About 5 minutes in, it all starts to come together. I can think. I can hear myself think. I can hear myself think.
And everything with the boss and the manager and the relationships that are working and the relationships that aren't working, they are all there moving with you. And somehow they all make more sense.The cards start to shuffle themselves. Lies and anger and fear and fatigue. Family and Friends and kids... At one point today, I was in the clearing, moving pretty quickly, but certainly not gracefully- I rolled my ankle, and threw my arms out to the side for balance. I continued to run this way, arms flapping in the breeze for a minute and I thought of all the little kids that run like that, specifically, our awesome friend Rook. Today I learned that if your ankles are weak, running with your arms out helps a lot. But more importantly, I remembered that it FEELS SO GOOD! So I kept on going, arms flailing like broken wings, running the path around the lake. This made me laugh, which then made me cry. I wish I had an image for you .
Then I came to the part where the lake meets the river, where I have to be very careful not to slip and fall and look like an idiot. While I was cautiously crossing, I recalled the story that Maria told at Jewish New Year Dinner the night before. She said that once a year they make amends. They take bread to the water, and let it go, releasing all the bad business so that you can go in to the new year at your very best.
I REALLY like the idea of LETTING IT GO. I don't know about bread as a vessel, but whatever.
I know I'm not really in with the big guy, but I like to think that-as with any strong- willed stubborn child there is also a great deal of charm in my resistance. Maybe he'll keep me around anyway.
So, I'm learning to let go. Everyday at lunchtime you can find me, flapping my arms like a child, laughing or crying- but please don't bother me, because this is really serious work. I'm not sure what I'm going to use, but I'm going to fill that lake with everything that I carry that I know I shouldn't carry. When I come out of the woods, I come out a little bit more of who I really am. I can't wait to see who wins.
I am grateful for my weak ankles and my arms that make great wings. I am Grateful for the Blue Heron that Screams at me everyday when I scare him away. I am grateful that our Buddy Rook has not abandoned what looks "normal" for what feels great and make you laugh so hard you fall over and cry.
I'm Grateful for Maria, and her Religion that is so different, but has brought me this one thing that I KNOW will help me so much in the next few months.I am Grateful to find out that I can change they way I feel by just being outside with all of the energy that's out there. I am not a runner. I'm a TRAIL runner.
You will see.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
And then she was Three
Tomorrow when I wake up, she will be three.
She loves Dora and "Dedago", rides her bike like a big girl, fears nothing, (except bugs.) Her hugs are as fierce as her dirtly looks, and her smile can bring me to my knees. She is the best cuddler that I have ever known. Her eyes melt my heart as much as her screams pierce my ears. She talks like there's no tomorrow, and if she runs out of material, she just starts making it up. Most of the time, she is singing.
She is sweet, beautiful, smart, funny, spoiled, imaginative. She can be shy and stubborn and sometimes mean. But most of the time, MOST of the time- she is still the perfect, tiny, innocent, beautiful 5lb 5oz baby girl that I brought home three years ago.
There are days when I can't help but wish that my kids were a little older and more able to take care of themselves. ( Most of the time I wish I was a little younger, and more able to keep up with their insanity.) But tonight I just wish I could stop it all, sit in the rocking chair with my baby girl, sing a little "She'll be coming around the mountain" with her and forget that she'll ever grow up at all...I can't believe she's three.
Because this blog is called "He said, She said", I feel like it's just no fun without a story, so here is the best story as of late, that I think sums up my little girl as she is TODAY.
A few days ago I woke up in the morning to her jumping (OK, maybe falling) on to my stomach. Of course yelling and ranting ensued, and we eventually all got out of bed. When I came downstairs, she wanted me to to pick her up. I was still a little sore (not in the literal sense) and I said
"I don't want to pick you up, you jumped on me!" Her reply was immediate, she said
"You still love me?"
(Me)"I ALWAYS love you."
(Riley)"So You forgive me?"
(Me)"Yes, I forgive you"
(Riley)"SO, pick me up!"
I picked her up....
She loves Dora and "Dedago", rides her bike like a big girl, fears nothing, (except bugs.) Her hugs are as fierce as her dirtly looks, and her smile can bring me to my knees. She is the best cuddler that I have ever known. Her eyes melt my heart as much as her screams pierce my ears. She talks like there's no tomorrow, and if she runs out of material, she just starts making it up. Most of the time, she is singing.
She is sweet, beautiful, smart, funny, spoiled, imaginative. She can be shy and stubborn and sometimes mean. But most of the time, MOST of the time- she is still the perfect, tiny, innocent, beautiful 5lb 5oz baby girl that I brought home three years ago.
There are days when I can't help but wish that my kids were a little older and more able to take care of themselves. ( Most of the time I wish I was a little younger, and more able to keep up with their insanity.) But tonight I just wish I could stop it all, sit in the rocking chair with my baby girl, sing a little "She'll be coming around the mountain" with her and forget that she'll ever grow up at all...I can't believe she's three.
Because this blog is called "He said, She said", I feel like it's just no fun without a story, so here is the best story as of late, that I think sums up my little girl as she is TODAY.
A few days ago I woke up in the morning to her jumping (OK, maybe falling) on to my stomach. Of course yelling and ranting ensued, and we eventually all got out of bed. When I came downstairs, she wanted me to to pick her up. I was still a little sore (not in the literal sense) and I said
"I don't want to pick you up, you jumped on me!" Her reply was immediate, she said
"You still love me?"
(Me)"I ALWAYS love you."
(Riley)"So You forgive me?"
(Me)"Yes, I forgive you"
(Riley)"SO, pick me up!"
I picked her up....
"What? Me?"
Happy Birthday Riley. You'll always be my baby girl!
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Tenacious Two
I will start this blog with chastising my audience. Yes, that means you. 1 follower! Really people? Does anyone know what this actually means, or how to set it up? I might need to add instructions here... There really should be a class for first time bloggers. But then there really should be classes for first time parents as well. (And they should be mandatory, and your parts should be turned off until you can pass all the tests with at least a 93%.) But that's just my opinion.
The "baby" has been cracking me up. And by that I mean making me laugh, and also making me insane. She is the most stubborn little thing since, well...me.
I can recall a time when I was a child, probably somewhere between 5 and 7. My parents were out in the back yard having drinks by the fire. I liked fire, I liked the company, and I wanted to play. My parents kept telling me to go back inside. I was hurt, I was angry, I was NOT GIVING UP. I stood inside the screen door, GLARING at them. With all the contempt and concentration of one of those bad guys from Star Wars who use the force for evil. I must have stood there giving them the stink eye for a half an hour. In the end, it was a failure. But did I give up? I DID NOT! I have been practicing the evil eye for most of my life. Apparently often enough that my daughter has picked it up YEARS ahead of schedule
I'm a little concerned. Before the weather turned, I took them for a photo shoot, and because I wouldn't let her carry the camera bag like a purse the whole time (cause those would great photos!) She scowled for all but three pictures. Two of them taken before the "incident". next time I'll leave the camera bag and tri-pod at home Maybe I'll try a fanny pack. I've heard they're making a HUGE comeback.
So. That's the crazy part. (Or a tiny tiny particle of it...) Lemme give you a cute bit.
I told her the other day it was time to go to bed she says "You lay by me?
I said "yes baby, I'll lay by you." So we began the ritual of brushing her 12 teeth, finding her blanket and nuk, making sure all 37 of her "friends" were in her bed, and we jumped in. Then she says "Story!"
I was already laying down, so I just made up this cute little story about a princess (named Riley) and a frog. It was cute, spur of the moment. Someone should really make it in to a book or a movie. So I get to the end which was something like ..."So Riley and her mommy were sitting down by pond, and a big frog hopped up and said "RIBBIT" (and here Riley yells "I LOB HIM) and the princess Riley kissed the frog and POOF! he turned in to Prince!"
She threw both of her hands up in the air and said "That's WEIRD!" I actually had to agree with her on that one..
She also gave me a good chuckle and an attitude check the other day when Ethan asked from the way back (my kids actually have to be separated to avoid physical altercations. Yeah, I know- I got this under control...) "Who wants to play tag when we get home?" and Riley Shouts with equal enthusiasm "NO ONE!"
Not 20 minutes later Sean says "Who wants to be my special helper when we get home?" From the back...
"NO ONE!"
I'm very conscious of how I phrase my questions these days. I refuse to be shot down by a two year old.
More recently, she has started to use the word "nervous" a lot, which when she says it is "nerbous". She has also told me I'm "hilarious", "ridiculous" and then she told me I had an attitude. Also, the dark is "stupid" and Ethan is often a "Wiener."
Seriously, I don't know where she gets it from.
Saturday she woke up, I asked her if she was ready to get up and go see Emme and Marlo, and she says to me (with great seriousness) "Maybe, I'm kinda tired."
You know who's tired?
ME!
The "baby" has been cracking me up. And by that I mean making me laugh, and also making me insane. She is the most stubborn little thing since, well...me.
I can recall a time when I was a child, probably somewhere between 5 and 7. My parents were out in the back yard having drinks by the fire. I liked fire, I liked the company, and I wanted to play. My parents kept telling me to go back inside. I was hurt, I was angry, I was NOT GIVING UP. I stood inside the screen door, GLARING at them. With all the contempt and concentration of one of those bad guys from Star Wars who use the force for evil. I must have stood there giving them the stink eye for a half an hour. In the end, it was a failure. But did I give up? I DID NOT! I have been practicing the evil eye for most of my life. Apparently often enough that my daughter has picked it up YEARS ahead of schedule
I'm a little concerned. Before the weather turned, I took them for a photo shoot, and because I wouldn't let her carry the camera bag like a purse the whole time (cause those would great photos!) She scowled for all but three pictures. Two of them taken before the "incident". next time I'll leave the camera bag and tri-pod at home Maybe I'll try a fanny pack. I've heard they're making a HUGE comeback.
So. That's the crazy part. (Or a tiny tiny particle of it...) Lemme give you a cute bit.
I told her the other day it was time to go to bed she says "You lay by me?
I said "yes baby, I'll lay by you." So we began the ritual of brushing her 12 teeth, finding her blanket and nuk, making sure all 37 of her "friends" were in her bed, and we jumped in. Then she says "Story!"
I was already laying down, so I just made up this cute little story about a princess (named Riley) and a frog. It was cute, spur of the moment. Someone should really make it in to a book or a movie. So I get to the end which was something like ..."So Riley and her mommy were sitting down by pond, and a big frog hopped up and said "RIBBIT" (and here Riley yells "I LOB HIM) and the princess Riley kissed the frog and POOF! he turned in to Prince!"
She threw both of her hands up in the air and said "That's WEIRD!" I actually had to agree with her on that one..
She also gave me a good chuckle and an attitude check the other day when Ethan asked from the way back (my kids actually have to be separated to avoid physical altercations. Yeah, I know- I got this under control...) "Who wants to play tag when we get home?" and Riley Shouts with equal enthusiasm "NO ONE!"
Not 20 minutes later Sean says "Who wants to be my special helper when we get home?" From the back...
"NO ONE!"
I'm very conscious of how I phrase my questions these days. I refuse to be shot down by a two year old.
More recently, she has started to use the word "nervous" a lot, which when she says it is "nerbous". She has also told me I'm "hilarious", "ridiculous" and then she told me I had an attitude. Also, the dark is "stupid" and Ethan is often a "Wiener."
Seriously, I don't know where she gets it from.
Saturday she woke up, I asked her if she was ready to get up and go see Emme and Marlo, and she says to me (with great seriousness) "Maybe, I'm kinda tired."
You know who's tired?
ME!
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