Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A Marathoner

This past weekend, the McQueen's had the privilege to spectate the OKC Memorial Marathon for the second year.  This year was a little different than the last, none of us were participating in the run, but our hearts were right there on the course with the runners... one in particular.

Over the past months, Beautiful Bald Husband had been training with a good friend of his, Corey.  He and his wife, Allison, are two of the raddest people on the planet, and one of the most fantastic couples we have met. We are totally blessed to have them in our lives. So, when the time came for Mr. Eubanks to complete his very first marathon, we had to be there to see it!



If you have never spectated a race, it is important to express to you just how interactive it can be.  Spectating itself, if you do it right, can be damn near a sport too! It also has some pretty incredible paybacks, and instant gratification.  When you cheer on the runners, even if they don't know you from Adam, you can see it change them right there on the spot.  Agony can turn in to smiles, walkers get a second wind, those so focused on time and distance get a distraction and remember to have fun... and we get to see it! You can watch their face, gait, speed, posture change! It is AWESOME. And those runners that you DO know, sometimes you get sweaty hugs and kisses, awesome high fives, and maybe even a tear or two... (but I'll never tell).   If you have spectated a race, GOOD FOR YOU!! You know first hand how transformative it is. 

It was absolutely gorgeous weather that day, warm but not hot, no wind.  The course was packed, and the energy was buzzing.  You can't help but get caught up in it.  Our kids have come with me several times to races, and even though we are schlepping them around in and out of cars, only to stand on the street for what in kid time feels like HOURS, they seem to really enjoy themselves.  Larger Child is an incredible spectator and cheerleader.  He counted that he gave out over 800 high fives on the course.  When we talked about it, I said, "Bud, that is over EIGHT HUNDRED smiles you gave out today.  EIGHT HUNDRED hearts lifted!! That's incredible." From the look on his face, you could tell he understood. 





I thoroughly enjoyed my time this year.  It was so fun to watch Allison go through all the same emotions I went through last year watching her husband complete a feat that not many can say they have done.  It is a testament to their love to see how they connected at every stop, her heart swelling a little more at each mile.  That kind of pride cannot be explained.  Watching your soul mate break down his body and push harder than he ever has before, mustering up every ounce of fortitude to finish though ever fiber wants to quit.  Then seeing them succeed!! It is amazing.  It was just awesome to be on this side watching their journey. 


I've got to say, something struck me this race that changed something in me as well. It is something BBH and I were discussing on the way home.  How life affirming it is to watch marathoners.  It is just a perfect example of people pushing beyond what anyone ever said they could or should do, pushing beyond what they ever thought they were capable of. It is the ones in the back of the pack... the ones not worried about a time, or qualifying or placing... those guys they are the heart of the sport.  They are the ones that make you want to get on the course yourself.  They are the ones that make you want to be better. The "elite" runners are impressive, don't get me wrong, but they are doing what's expected of them. "Elite" runners run fast, so when you see them doing that, you say, "Well, yeah, they're elite runners." But the eighty year old woman running, or the over weight couple holding hands, the middle aged house wives, THEY are what it's about.

They are the ones that are defying what their roles are. They are the ones that are saying I CAN DO THIS. Their work, sweat, tears are what gives me the chills at the finish line.  They are the ones that keep me running my little 3-4 miles, pushing, trying... inspired.  The ones that sometimes refuse to call themselves "runners," much less marathoners. But, I can tell you this, I saw you guys, every single one of you that I clamped eyes on challenged my heart a little more that day.  Every single one of you proved to me that the human spirit is one of the strongest things on the planet.  It doesn't matter what you weigh, how old you are, what you do, if you have RA... any one of us when we get on the course can call ourselves "runners." And you all were sure that.... and also my heroes. 

So, Mr. Eubanks, this post is for you... thank you for challenging my heart a little more on Sunday.  Proving to me the strength we all possess.  Watching you complete your first marathon was exactly the push I needed to call myself a runner too. Congrats to you! You are a marathoner!!


Wednesday, April 24, 2013

He's Still My Baby

Today, my Larger Child had an appointment with an allergist.  It has been on the calendar for months, and something that has caused quite a bit of nervousness and apprehension in his little mind.  Somehow, however, by the Grace of God, he had forgotten the appointment was today.  So, when I woke him up this morning, and I was fully dressed, make up and shoes on, he was confused.  When I told him where we needed to go this morning, his face fell, and my heart followed close behind. 

Larger Child is a rare bird.  He has a heart like no one I have ever met.  He gets skittish sometimes... scared of what he doesn't know... and can carry with him a thought, memory or experience for years, especially if it was one of fear or torment.  He is sensitive, but in a charming way.  He has a strange fascination with the unusual, but it can often lead him to a fear of the bizarre.  (Remember the Ripley's Believe it or not Museum.) I often forget how his fragile mind works, dazzled by its brilliance, I forget he is still a child, a child with fears, worries, stresses, hopes, dreams and fascination.  So, when I saw the instant change in his demeanor when he remembered he had to go to the doctor today I knew this could go one of two ways.

Once, at his pediatrician's office, I and three other nurses had to restrain and hold him down to the table to get shots.  Another time, it took two nurses and five tries to get a throat swab for a strep test.  He can talk to the doctor and understand the procedures better than the average middle aged man, but when it comes to them actually touching him, beyond checking his ears, he puts even the biggest Iatrophobics to shame.

I knew this doctor was going to do allergy testing, including skin testing... I knew it was going to be difficult, uncomfortable, and possibly painful. I knew this wasn't going to be easy on any of us... but it needed to be done.  I had grappled over the months leading up to it what to tell him, how much to share, and decided that our best bet was to give him just enough information to not be taken by surprise, but not enough to stress over.  I am not sure if I succeeded in that balance, but we did the best we could. 

On the way to the doctor's office, we talked again about what to expect, and how it was not going to be as bad as he thinks.  I told him some good techniques to stay calm, and I encouraged him to pray.  I explained that any time I was full of fear, if I would just reconnect with God, remember that He's got me, is protecting me, and will keep me safe, I am reassured that things will work out exactly as they should and I was going to be just fine. He took my advice, and spent a good deal of time in the car praying on the way there.  It seemed to help.  By the time we got in the office he was cutting jokes, and charming the secretaries. 

After a quick exam, they did a breathing test, and he did great.  Then it was time for the skin test.  After I filled out some paper work, they asked him to take off his shirt and lay down on the table.  You could see the panic begin to rise.  Then some deep breaths, encouragement from mom and dad, and Tom and Jerry on the TV, and he seemed to settle in.  The first series took him by surprise, he said that they almost tickled. The second set seemed to irritate him slightly, by the fourth he was starting to complain of some pain... then it was over.  You could see on his face the relief and surprise... and possibly a little bit of pride.  I snapped a picture of the test spots so he could see what he just went through and how great he did... he was shocked at how it looked.  (Frankly, so was I.)






So, that's what happened, my recording of how he reacted and the events that transpired... Here's what the mother's heart experienced. 

This morning, I woke up full of fear and dread. I prayed for strength and guidance. I knew it was going to be a long and difficult morning.  I got dressed, and grudgingly went to wake up my son, who was sleeping peacefully.  I felt like I was snatching up the last moments of calm in his day.  When he woke up, I knew he would notice that I was dressed, and I knew it wouldn't take long for him to ask me why... I would have to remind him of what he was in for, and then he would change.  He did.  I saw the excited little boy getting ready for another day of school vanish and become the small child full of fear, and there wasn't a whole lot I could say to him to make him feel any better. 

As we were getting in to the car, he asked if he could sit up front with me.  My knee jerk reaction was to tell him no, he is safer, better protected in the back, in his booster... and there he will remain until he's twenty.  But, then I could tell he wanted to be close to me. He wanted that connection, so I changed my mind, and moved my purse off the passenger seat. His nerves were nearly vibrating off of him, I asked him if he would like to listen to some music, and we surfed stations until he found something he would like.  I was marveling at his opinions, the observances, and the questions about genres... grateful for the distraction.  But, the distraction didn't last long... it was just a few moments before he was asking me questions again about what the skin test was going to be like, if it was needles, how long it was going to hurt... etc.  It was heartbreaking. I wished there was a way to help him without going through what we were going through.  I wondered if there was something I did or didn't do that caused his allergies and asthma to begin with.  I wondered if we didn't do it, what the rest of his life might be like, if these things remained untreated.  I considered cancelling the appointment all together, completely out of fear. I didn't want to see my baby hurt. Bottom line. I kept this thought as a viable option until we got in the elevator. Then I knew it was probably too late. 

As a mom, I have learned to keep it together even if my head is spinning in a zillion different directions.  I have learned to fake calm and serenity in front of my children, not to let on that there is anything beyond total collected peace I my eyes.  BUT, that still doesn't stop me from holding his had as we are walking down the hallway, or wrapping my arm around his shoulders in the waiting room, scooping him up into my lap in the office waiting for the doctor, or wiggling my body in to a position to where I can at least hold him with one hand while he was getting the testing done.

I stood there next to him, watching the process, watching his reaction, like an untrusting tiger mother... nearly growling under my breath while they are putting the irritants under his skin.  Gauging his reaction each time as to whether or not I should call the whole thing off, throw the nurse against the wall, scoop him up and go running out the door.  With one hand on his arm, I felt my body swaying side to side in what I can only call the Mommy Waltz, that calming motion mothers use when holding their infants, that rhythmic sway that goes in line with your heartbeat and desire for theirs to calm as well.  Then it was over.

I sat down. Dumbfounded. There was no tears, no screams, no protests. There was no restraining him to the table. No four nurses holding down flailing limbs. He just did it, and without much complaint. He was the definition of brave: having or showing courage especially when facing danger, difficulty, or pain.  He did it, even though he was afraid of it. 

And my eyes opened to the boy his is, the young man he is becoming.  Though my instinct and mother's heart tell me to protect, nurture, shield... he is teaching me that he is capable, growing, strong, brave.  I have a lot to learn from this kid. 

Monday, April 22, 2013

Twitterpated

Springtime always makes me reflect on the time my Beautiful Bald Husband and I have shared together.  I think it is because it was this time of year that we both started falling for one another, it was this time of year when we started dating... Springtime is the time for romance right?  And we were sure Twitterpated. 

That was thirteen years ago.

Not a lot has changed in the feeling...

To think of the years, sometimes I cannot believe it has been that long, but then other times I don't remember what life was like without him in it.  I do know one thing, with every passing year, I see more clearly how grateful I am that our paths crossed those zillion years ago, how lucky I am that he has chosen to spend his life with me, and how blessed our lives have been.

Our life is not perfect, it is far from perfect.  But it is beautiful in its imperfection.  We learn and grow with one another.  We have learned that some of the best lessons in life come from hardship, and through the years we have had our share of that! But, the thing is, we learned the lessons, or at least as best as we could at the time.  We grew from those times, and our love grew with it.  Now, I am fairly certain that there isn't anything too big to face if he is by my side. 

There are a few things that we have learned in particular that have been the backbone of our strength... they center around respect.  Respect for one another, not taking each other for granted, listening, allowing emotions and thoughts to be expressed freely, support, understanding, tolerance, acceptance, these are all values we hold high.  It took us a long while to get to this place where we hold these as qualities we cherish, and it took lots of lessons, trial and error to see how important they are.  We have had to re-learn how to talk to one another, trying our hardest to not "mean play" and speak words of kindness and respect. We had to learn how to listen, and express ourselves in a calm, rational and respectful manner. These things were not familiar to us, they had to be learned and re-learned... and we are still a work in progress... but we are getting there.

When you have been with someone as long as we have been, it seems like it could be easy to fall in to a sense of apathy... but somehow, by the Grace of God, we have managed to not fall pray to this.  Our feelings and love seem to ignite just like they did thirteen years ago.  He can still give me butterflies, he can still surprise me, impress me, and sweep me off my feet.  But, beyond the fact that he CAN do this, he DOES. I pray that I can still occasionally do the same for him as well.

But, with all these strong, fun feelings, there is another layer.  A feeling of familiarity, of closeness, of comfort and security... this is something you really can only get with time and proof.  I know his mannerisms, I know what makes him tick... and as much as he'd like to say that women are too hard to figure out, I know for a fact that he knows mine too.  We can anticipate feelings, thoughts and actions, because we have been around each other so long, we know. We can calm, love, adore, and amuse without a word.

I will never doubt that if I come to him with a problem, he will support me in any way he can.  I know that if I ever express an idea or emotion, he will never intentionally put me down or disregard it.  He is there, unconditional, just as I am for him. 

I never knew that there would be someone in this world that I can completely and wholeheartedly be myself with. I didn't realize when I married him that not only was I getting a spouse and lover, but also a partner and best friend.  That is certainly what he is, and then some.  And I try to remember this, to show him this, to express this in my actions and words to him, though in this, I am afraid I fail more often than I'd care to admit.

That man of mine, that BBH,  he's got me Twitterpated alright.  Twitterpated for Thirteen years and counting!

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

A Short

I present you with a movie my Beautiful Bald Husband made, featuring my Larger Child. I am pretty sure it completely encapsulates everything about LC.... in six seconds.  Enjoy.

Reunited and It Feels So Good!

From the day he came home from the hospital, Smaller Child had Nelson.  Nelson is a friend, a companion, a pillow, a toy, a teether, and a kindred spirit. Nelson is a stuffed dog.

Today, Nelson needed a bath.  This was pretty traumatic.  Not even a Mickey nearly the size of SC could take the place of that floppy blue dog.  BUT, never the less, it needed to be done. So, after some tears and a kiss goodbye, "Caw-Caw" (because SC can't say his "n's" yet) went into the wash.

But then, about an hour later....


The reunion:

 

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

A love note.

Received this from BBH today... after 13 years, he still knows how to give me butterflies.
 
 

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

A Day Downtown

The plan was to spend the day at the zoo with Smaller Child.  Curious George was suppose to be there, so was his favorite band (if a twenty month old can have a favorite band), book readings, and lots of activities. The plan didn't go as planned... there was no parking, lines to the street, and I was blue. BUT, inspiration hit, I turned the wheel, and headed downtown instead... and I am so glad I did.

Smaller Child and I spent a day outside, with nature, exploring the Myriad Gardens and the Crystal Bridge.  I often forget about these little gems when planning an outing with the kids.  But, they are marvelous ways to spend the day.

At the Children's Garden:





 

He found a flower he just HAD to have... I think he just wanted to feel it.  Before I could tell him not to, he had pulled the near perfect tulip... (I had learned in Girl Scouts that you are not allowed to pick a flower unless you can see at least 100 more of the same flower for others to enjoy.) Eh, how am I going to stifle the curiosity of a toddler after a tulip?






 Then perhaps, his conscience got the best of him, and he tried and tried to get the tulip back to his home...



 At this point he realized it was broken. "Huh-oh!" He said...


Mama! I tried to save the day, told him it was okay... placed the tulip back in the bed, and quickly moved on before he could noticed it hadn't been fixed. (Got to say, it was a very sweet moment.)

I would also really like to take this opportunity to tell whomever it is responsible just how much I enjoyed seeing all the awesome yarn bombs spread throughout the children's garden! It was so entertaining and delightful! AND a big props to the city for not taking them down. They know the difference between art and graffiti when they see it! Carry on, yarn bomber! Carry on!



Then we headed to the water feature of the gardens, and more importantly the home of the beautiful (and bountiful) koi and goldfish living in it.  We meet another nice mother and young son who offered us a piece of bread to try and feed the fishies.  (They weren't too keen on SC's animal crackers.)  The bread seemed to be the ticket though. Some of the koi were bigger than SC, but he was fascinated, and I often had to pull him back from reaching in the water to touch them.

This particular koi was probably at least two feet long. I bet he weighed a good 5-10 lbs.
Once we made our lap around the water, we decided to visit the Crystal Bridge.  It is an indoor greenhouse/conservatory built in the 80's that house over 1,000 tropical plant species (and a few flying/crawling ones too).

It is a multi level facility, so I thought my best bet in seeing it all was to ditch the stroller and follow SC through the paradise.  I let him lead, and I was along for the ride.

We were greeted by butterflies. LOTS and LOTS of butterflies.  They were beautiful and fascinating to us both.  We spent several minutes watching them, following them, and talking about/to them.











He had no trouble exploring, as long as he knew I was a few steps a way.  I spent most of my time smiling, watching the back of his head as he stretched his independence and experienced this new world around him.


 



The only thing that held him back were those pesky stairs... He tried climbing them, but they always seemed to make his hands "yucky."





That's when he decided to give up a hair of his independence to allow Mama to help.  Good call, SC.


But, if we were on a flat path, watch out world... ain't nuthin stopping this toddler from toddlin' wherever his heart's desire. (As long as Mama isn't too far away.)



The plants were breathtaking... We saw so many colors.  We also met a very sociable snake, a terrific turtle, and two polite parrots. (Who needs that pesky overcrowded zoo anyway!?!)






And did I mention the butterflies?? There were SO MANY BUTTERFLIES!!


And after, we enjoyed a picnic in the park... We like our sandwiches with a side of skyscraper. 


 

Supremely awesome day... don't you love it when plans that don't work out are the VERY best thing that could happen?! 



Blessed life.