Sick Days

Sick days are no longer what they once were. For some reason, misery loves company, and when I'm sick, Jace is as well. Of course, nothing has compared to the first time I was a sick mother. But, this is still torture.

It used to be, when I was sick, my dad would get me whatever I wanted to eat (usually McDonald's, Cream of Wheat or pancakes). I would watch chick flicks all day. Nap at my own leisure. Take a long, warm bath. Do. Nothing.

Things are a bit different now. I resort to finding whatever is in the freezer because I feel too awful to leave the house for myself. I've traded chick flicks for "Go, Diego,Go". And my long, warm bath is a quick rinse off because Jace is throwing toilet paper rolls into my shower.

It's bad enough I have to fend for my own survival, but Jace has to be sick, too? He can't just be normal, independent Jace. He has to be miserable, if I'm awake I need to be held, give me Tylenol every 4 hours or else my temperature will blow up the thermometer, Jace.

I miss the sick days where it was all about me.

But, there's a twisted part of me that loves this Jace, who reminds me he still needs his mama.

Then there's the part of me that still needs mine.

I mean. I am 18 years old in my head. And I would've been the perfect candidate for Teen Mom.

But that's neither here nor there. The beast is asleep. I'm going to take a nap now.

Just an Hour

I had a plan today. After work I was going to pick up Jace from my parents, come home, workout,  and clean our house (that currently resembles an unorganized rummage sale). But, when I walked through the door, I felt like the Lord wanted me to unplug and take the next full hour before Jace's bedtime routine, to get on my knees and give my undivided attention... to Jace. To be there to give affirming smiles, hugs and kisses whenever he wanted, to play ball, Legos, read books, whatever he wanted. So, as hard as it was to leave the house in shambles and stray from my workout plan, I knew I needed to be on the floor with my buddy. Because somewhere, not far from us, were at least 4 little kids who needed the love of a mama to just sit on the floor with them and love them, if even for just an hour.

I got a text from my friend today saying 'I just watched a mother push her 1 year old down, grab him by the arm and throw him into the car then start hitting him in the face. I might puke. I called 9-1-1.' For the rest of my shift at work, I thought about my little one year old. I couldn't even fathom it. Could not. With his little hands and feet and his innocent laugh (the best sound in the ENTIRE world), and how much he doesn't know. How much he depends on me and trusts me and needs me. How could someone ever dare misuse that privilege and abuse the defenseless? My heart felt like there was a gash in it as I grieved for a little boy whose mother does not know a treasure when she sees it. I wanted to know that little boy. To open my door and give him at least an hour of my undivided attention. To be on my hands and knees so he could look me in the eyes and feel safe and loved. To feel like the very precious treasure he is.

I then got off work to hear that a friend of a friend had passed away. A young mom with 3 kids--the oldest 8, the youngest 3. Breast cancer soon spread to brain cancer and was slowly taking her life as her 3 babies watched. A couple weeks ago, she said her goodbyes to her children because it was just too hard on all of them to interact with her looking so frail and being so weak. Their aunt took them as this mama's life slipped away, knowing she would not watch her babies grow up. Would not get to watch their sporting events, cook them dinner, tuck them in at night. Would miss out on  high school, driver's ed, proms, college, weddings. Her 3 year old will have only faint memories of having a mother and her 8 year old will remember her for the rest of her life--and this day, this day that she was told her mother was now in heaven. 3 children who would do anything for their mama to be here, healthy, playing on the floor with them, hugging them whenever they wanted, stacking Legos. The last thing the mom told my friend was 'thank you so much for everything and please let my kids know that I love them very much'. A mama who probably wished for one more hour with them as well.

Today, the pain of this world rubbed shoulders with my world. My heart got a glimpse and it aches. But, it also reminded me that these moments, these hours, are not to be taken for granted.  I needed to do my part today. For the little boy whose mom forgot to cherish him and for the mom who cherished her kids until her dying breath. We are all given choices. My choice today was to stick to my plan, or to break the rules, get a little wild, and love like crazy, if even just for an hour.

My house is still a disaster, but today I chose to love my boy like crazy.

Hot Chocolate 5K

So, one day, I was innocently minding my own business when my email pinged me with a new message that read "Hot Chocolate 5K Registration Confirmation". I was confused, and had every right to be, because I NEVER SIGNED UP FOR ANY 5K. Turned out, Melissa, took it upon herself to sign me up without my knowledge. While part of me wanted to beat her up, the other part of me was relieved because I don't think I would have ever signed up on my own.

I know 3 miles isn't that big of a deal, with everyone doing marathons, triathlons  and Ironman these days, but for me 3 miles is a BIG DEAL. Even back in my athletic prime, I was always a sprinter. Short distances I owned. Long distances owned me. Like, they had the ability to take my life.

So, until about a month ago, I had never run probably more than a mile without stopping, in my entire life. And now all of a sudden, my lungs and legs worked up the ability to keep pushing through. It's been such an awesome challenge for me, physically yes, but mostly mentally. The first time I ran 3 miles, I had to picture myself in labor and tell myself, if my body had no choice but to survive THAT, I could surely run 3 miles.

So, on to race day. Last night was a torrential downpour and I saw no sign of escaping it by morning. This morning we woke up to blue skies and a beautiful, sunny Seattle. 6:45 was early, but so worth it. The route through Seattle was absolutely beautiful as we got snapshots of the sun reflecting off the water and as a backdrop to the Great Wheel. We also got to run through a tunnel that had been closed down just for us! It was such an awesome experience. I'm so proud of my girls and had so much fun getting to do something like this with them. This definitely won't be the last time!

And I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive Melissa:)