My Marathon Man

     This weekend was a momentous one for our little family.  Beautiful Bald (Brave, Baffling, Bodacious) Husband COMPLETED his first MARATHON! This phrase in itself gives me goosebumps. I want to be able to express the feelings of elation and pride, but I am afraid I might fall short., but I will do my best.

     A year and a couple of weeks ago we as a family went to spectate a 5k that some friends of ours were putting on.  I wasn't sure what it was going to be like to spectate a running event. BUT, it was a lot of fun to get caught up in the energy of the race. It seemed pretty clear that spectator encouragement could really impact a runner's moral.  I watched my husband watch his friends run. I could see the interest and desire begin to peak on his face. It was like watching a little kid waiting on the sidelines of their siblings soccer game. Just full of fervor and aspiration. It was a few days later that he began to run.
     At first, BBH said that he was trying to "build stamina" for other athletic interests he had. I think this may have been his way of covering just in case he wasn't any good at it! But, what do I know... it is not like I have been married to him for 10+ years or anything.  A few weeks later, his good friend (and soon to be running partner/trainer) participated in the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon.  BBH came with him to help with water stops, energy boosts, and all around encouragement.  When he came home from this event it became crystal clear that completing a MARATHON was his next goal.
     Beautiful Bald Husband trained for a year. A YEAR he devoted to preparing for a single day of athletic achievement.  He took breaks, he would occasionally slack off, but he would always get back to it. Running. It was determination at its definition. He was willing, even when he didn't think he was! And believe it or not, I think some where along the way he began to really enjoy it! I think somewhere along the way, he allowed himself to admit he was a "runner."  At least in his own head, if not out loud.
      When it got closer to the race, he began to waffle a bit, though I know it was just nerves. He kept procrastinating signing himself up. So, finally I did it for him. (I'm such and enabler.) When I called to let him know it was like I had told him I got him the puppy he had always wanted. I loved it! Then, things got serious. Preparations began... and nerves went up.
     The night before the race, I could almost feel the energy vibrating off of him. I knew he was nervous. I knew there was nothing I could really do to help that much, though I did what I could. The night was long, despite the fact that we were both up by 4am. I saw him off... and that is when the emotions started.  We exchanged a look as he was walking out the door.  It was a look of, "Wow. This is really happening." His was mixed bag of excitement, pride and fear, and mine was a double shot of admiration... straight up.
     Somehow I managed to talk my parents into coming out with me and the kids to watch the race. Even though it was so early the sun wasn't up. Even though we knew there was a high chance of rain. Even though we would be schlepping two kids around without naps or decent food in their bellies, they agreed. They were two of the best partners in crime! Such great attitudes and willingness to hoof it and do what was needed not to miss our stops! I am so grateful to them. (I totally have the best parents in the world!)

     With the help of a friend, I had plotted several spots on the course map. I had planned on seeing him at least 6 times in the TWENTY SIX + miles he was going to be running that day.  The first stop was right around mile three. We got out, grabbed the stroller and Smaller Child, who was completely confused as to why we were all so excited and running around so early in the morning.  Larger Child climbed out of the car and grabbed his sign he made a few days prior. He told me what to write, I aim to do his bidding on genius ideas like this!

 
     I was amazed by the sheer volume of participants. I think they said they had 26,000 runners!! I really wanted to stand in the middle of the street so I could get a better pic of the sea of athletes! I had little experience with this kind of number, and though we did our best at this stop, we only caught a fleeting glance at OUR runner as he came whizzing by with a huge smile of recognition on his face. HA! Mission accomplished.  Now off to stop two.

     The next stop was at mile seven and a half.  We didn't have much better luck catching him this time either.  We did see him, he did see us.  He did smile again.  At this point, he was looking great, and I was already looking forward to the sweaty hugs and kisses of jubilation at the finish line!    
     We got to stop three a bit early.  It had started to rain a bit at this point, and we were all in our ponchos standing in the street waiting for our hero to pass again.  It was mile 13, just about the half way point. The runners had spread out much more and I was really hoping to get a connection with BBH at this stop.  He had been running with his friend/trainer for most of the race, and when he came by first without BBH, I was surprised. He stopped and waited with us for a bit. Then the wait went a bit longer.  Then we started to worry.  His friend thought maybe we missed him, so he went on to see if he could catch him. We continued to wait.  A good solid five minutes of sheer panic and heart failure later my man, my hero, my warrior came down the path!  He was clearly pained. You could see on his face he was hurting and exhausted. I wanted so badly to just take off and run with him, or at the very least give him all my energy and strength to carry on.  BUT, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, even if he had to drag himself across with his fingernails, he would cross that finish line. That is just the type of warrior he is!  Regardless of this knowledge, my first instinct was to pray as I watched him continue on.

     The next stop was mile 17.5.  I was hoping for the best. I was hoping his friend caught him, and was able to push him through the juggernaut size wall he was face to face with. I was waiting (rather impatiently) for a glimpse of the smile that I saw at mile three and seven.  We had some time to kill, and Larger Child became VERY skilled in amping the runners up.  He realized rather quickly the best way to motivate them was to give out high fives, or knuckle bumps! I would encourage this behavior by yelling, "Free high fives! Guaranteed to get you to the finish line!!" He had done this at several stops, so many of the runners began to recognize him and ask him for the high five they expected from the super rad six year old on the sidelines! (I have the best kids in the world too!)

     Smaller Child was still doing exceptionally well at this point too.  He managed to get a nap in, and had become very skilled with a cowbell! He loved clapping for the blurry fast things that whizzed by him, and would yell just as loud if not more so than the rest of us!

     While the children were fantastically cute distractions, my mind was still on Beautiful Bald Husband.  Where is he? How's he doing? Did his friend catch up with him? Is he smiling again yet? When will he get here? (and so on...) After some deep breaths, I waited.... soon, here he came!! The smile was back!! There was a new sense of determination on his face, and we all got gloriously sweaty hugs!! At this point, I knew he was GOLDEN! Now, I could relax and just cheer him on to the finish!

     We had one more stop just past mile 22, he was still smiling. Didn't stop this time, but I think he had a finish line in his mind... he was focused, tired and very determined.

     We made our trek downtown to the finish line. There was a huge crowd of spectators. Family, friends, just supporters all standing waiting and cheering to support our athletes as they accomplished one of the greatest acts of physical exertion.  I was so proud to be one of the many there with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart. The energy was incredible. I witnessed several people cross the finish line, and every single one inspired me and awed me. Their faces could tell a story all on their own.  It was just beautiful.
     But, I was there for one main reason. To witness my husband, my warrior, my hero, my Beautiful Bald Husband achieve the goal he set for himself over a year ago.  All of the hard work, all of the sweat, pain, strength, time, agony, and joy all came down to these few steps, and I was there to witness it! I was there to see him become a man who had completed a MARATHON.  It was exhilarating and glorious!! My pride was enormous and my heart was too! I had so much love for this man! I couldn't wait to catch his eyes and let him know.

     We have a way of expressing these huge emotions without saying a word. We did this that day. I caught his eye behind the gate... and he knew. He knew how I was feeling, and I did the same... and I wept.

 
     That was the day my Beautiful Bald Husband became a Marathon Man. That was the day my love and pride for him reached a new level. I learned THIS man WILL accomplish ANYTHING he puts his mind to.  And we will be right there, cheering him on.  Always and forever, his biggest fans!!

Toofers and Fevers and Droolers -An Update-

  First and foremost, Larger Child's mysterious fever never came back. (Thank you God!) Besides the normal seasonal yuck we are all struggling with, he seems to be just fine. Smaller Child FINALLY cut one of the two top teeth that were bulging the gums for weeks.  The other seems to be just under the surface.  So.... fingers crossed it will make its appearance any day now.  In the meantime, there seems to be no reprieve from the drool and snot associated with baby teething, but there has been several nights (in a row!) of decent sleep in our house, (yay!!!) which makes this Mama much more capable of handling the rest of the goo.
     So, in celebration of the new addition (Toofer Number 3) I would like to share with you Smaller Child's new favorite game.  Peek-a-Boo.

Toofers and Fevers and Droolers- OH MY!

    This week has been a long one. Smaller Child has been trying to cut his top teeth for SEVERAL days now. This has resulted in snot, drool, ear pulling, appetite loss, nasty diapers... the WORKS.  It has also resulted in Mama not getting as much sleep as she would like to.  By the time he would decide he was ready to give sleep a try, I would lay down, get nestled in bed, close my eyes and juuuust be about to drift off when -- the shrieks of pain and frustration would begin again.  After a while, I started having a hard time discerning which one of us the sound was coming from! 
     Last night, it seemed like I might be able to get some rest. Smaller Child had a decent day, and didn't seem to be as affected by the teething as he had been.  I was excited to catch up on some rest. That is when Larger Child decided to mysteriously spike a fever of 104.8! He has never run one that high! Tylenol, cool rags and ice drinks helped to bring it down a bit, and he managed to get to sleep.  But, as any seasoned mother knows, when there is concern in the brain for the health and well-being of the child, our sleep is sparing to say the least.
    We were woken up around two in the morning by Larger Child crying, and unable to explain why.  The only thing that seemed to relieve him was to crawl into bed with us.  I could hear the fear and frustration in his voice, so I was more than happy to accommodate.
     So, as I reach for my afternoon cup of coffee, (the cup that allows me to stay vertical for the next several hours until that glorious time known as "bed") I sigh and say, "Small price to pay for a life this good... small price to pay." I mean really, how glorious is it that there are two lives in this house that find their comfort and support in my arms?!?  How magical is the power of Mom to be able to provide calm, peace, safety with just the stroke of a finger on a cheek, or a squeeze of a hand?  What an amazing gift!
     I will try to remember this the next time I am dragging myself out of bed at 2am, wistfully remembering the days of sleeping through the night, beds with room to spare, and waking up past noon.
     Motherhood Rocks!

Bouncing Boys

We really do have all of the funs! 

Little Explorer

It all started innocently enough.  I was supervising Olivia the Weirdo's necessity trip outside (we have a bobcat that lurks about and had been spotted earlier that day) and chatting with my mom on the phone when I noticed that Smaller Child had become really still and quiet. The sunshine and snuggles took him down... it's like kryptonite for this kid.

A few moments later, he woke up.  Note the drool on his chin (and the phone on mine)!

A few moments after that, he was wiggling and giggling and ready to explore.

He started slow... just reaching for the dirt. It is like a magnet to all little boys!

Then he found ROOTS and GRASS!

Smaller Child was pleased by this!

It became clear at that point this boy needed full submersion. So, in to the grass we go!

This too pleased him greatly. Now he had full access to dirt and grass to do with as he pleased... like eat it?
 

That is what you do with grass, right?

That's when we made the move to the center of the yard.  There was slightly less mud, and the sun felt great! And OH the grass... HOW THE GRASS DID DELIGHT!

Like this piece...

And this one...

I wonder what this one taste like...

Nope! Not so good.

(This is when I step in and try to get him to stop eating the grass... and this is when he tries to distract me with the cuteness of his tootsies...)
Hey Mom, don't look at my hands... check out these cute feetsies!

Huuh? Huuh? You like that foot, Mom?? Check out this foo--- Hey, what's that??

It's Ooooolivia!!

Try as I might, I can never get a good picture of this dog.  She hates the camera! Come on, Lady... just one?

Hold still!

Come on! Please?

Heavens SAKES! Good enough.

Give me the camera, Mama... I can do it!

Or this leaf... that works too.

Mmmm... leeeeaf....

I hope you all enjoyed your afternoon.  We sure did.

Laughter is our Lifeline

Laughter is the shortest distance between two people. - Victor Borge
The most wasted of all days is one without laughter. -E.E. Cummings
Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand. -Mark Twain


     To laugh, in this home, is to breath. We may very well do them in equal measure. Some evenings it seems like our entire goal and purpose is to get one another to laugh.  All five of us (yes, Weirdo Olivia included) seem to need both laughing and the response of laughter to survive. We thrive on giggles, we beam with laugh snorts, we remember the days of threats of milk noses, or thigh slaps like one would mark a momentous anniversary or birth.
     Laughter is the one tool we have used over and over again to get through the mundane. It has been our saving grace in the tough spots, and our life preserver in the tragedies.  I am not sure if there has been more than a handful of days in the twelve years Beautiful Bald Husband and I have been together that he hasn't made me laugh, I mean REALLY laugh.  I hope he can say the same for me.
     To have the desire to make each other laugh in this family is more than just a need for attention, or entertainment, it is a deeper desire to see the other ones happy...to bring joy to the lives of the people we love.  So, the fact that there are gaggles of giggles, tons of tee-hee's,  chortles, guffaws, chuckle, and cachinnates, means to me only one thing... there is an abundance of love.

Nine Months

     It is hard to believe that NINE months have passed since our Smaller Child came in to this world. Nine months! On the other hand, I cannot fathom a time when our beautiful baby wasn't here to complete our family so perfectly.  Our house feels whole now that Smaller Child is with us. My heart feels the same.

     In nine months I have learned:
     1. I can hold a baby, make lunch for a six year old, and talk on the phone at the same time.
     2. Carrots stain. Green beans don't. 
     3. When the schedules are organized, this family is like a well-oiled machine.
     4. Puppies eventually get potty trained, and babies eventually sleep through the night.
     5. Larger Child will never fail to exceed my expectations.
         (When will I learn to stop having expectations?)
     6. While the internet may say otherwise, parenting has not changed in six years.
         (Or 60, or 600 really.)
     7. The capacity for a parent to love is much greater than imagined.
     8. I like to prove people wrong.
     9. Boys will be boys. Boys in packs will be even more so.
    10.Smaller Child brings out the best in all of us.

Nine months listening to my heartbeat. Nine months being my heart.  (It has been a wonderful year and a half, Little Man. Can't wait to see what's next!)

What a Gift!

     I am blessed beyond measure.  I am also lucky enough to have some awareness of that fact. One of my many many blessings is the gift of a good partnership in parenting.  From the moment Larger Child came in to this world, Beautiful Bald Husband changed.  It was as though Fatherhood shot through every fiber of his being the second that baby took his first breath.  It was visually apparent. It was all over his face. His posture changed, his voice changed. His eyes.... his eyes changed the most.

    From that day forth, I knew that without a shadow of a doubt, my son would ALWAYS have his Dad.  He would always have someone in this world, besides myself, who is on his team.  As the years have passed, this fact has just become more and more clear.  When discussions of bringing another child in this world occurred. Beautiful Bald Husband would often voice concerns that he didn't think he could love another child as much as his first. I understood that, I wondered the same thing about myself. BUT, when Smaller Child blessed our lives, again... I could SEE the change happen in his body.  It reminded me of the line in How the Grinch Stole Christmas..."the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day."

     It really was that way, I know because I felt it too.  One of the greatest lessons we learned with the appearance of Smaller Child was that the capacity for a parent to love is much much greater than we could ever imagine.  So, with that moment, again I knew Smaller Child would ALWAYS have his Dad, and would ALWAYS have two people on his team. 
     I cannot express the gift it is to have a partner in parenting that you can always count on. I know that I am lucky, I know that there are millions of other women out there that cannot say the same. My heart breaks for those mothers, and for those children.  I could not imagine what that would be like.  
     I never have to think twice about it. I know that he is there for those boys, for whatever they may need.  He has shown this over and over by the big things:   Swimming a half a block through flood water to get to us when our house flooded two years ago.  And the small things:  Killing the scorpion in the flower bed that is threatening to scare the child.  The exceptional things:  Driving all over God's creation to find THE Christmas gift. Or spending half the night Christmas Eve putting together a Christmas gift to set under the tree. The day to day:  Working two jobs, day in and day out, doing everything he can to provide a life for us.     As our boys get older, his role is going to change like mine will. As they grow older, and begin to explore this world, learn their life lessons, my role as Mamma may take a back seat to his role as Dad to teach them the lessons only a fellow man can teach.  I know now too, that in this capacity, he will flourish as well.  As hard as it is for me to let go and let him handle it, I know that he will do whatever he can to give those boys whatever they need.  He has proven that.  The hardest thing I have to do is to trust another with the well-being of my children, but in this case again I don't have to think twice!
    How lucky my boys are to have a dad like that! How lucky I am to have a partner like that! What a gift.