Last night, in the middle of the night, as I was helping Molly in the bathroom, I was suddenly struck with how precious and beautiful life is. I've been feeling that a lot lately -- an all-pervasive, overwhelming sense of gratitude for my life and for the people that are in it. I'm also struck by how quickly time passes, and how it's all so fleeting...it feels like it wasn't that long ago that Emma was an infant and she and I were snuggling in bed on long lazy spring mornings...and now suddenly, she's five years old, growing into a charming, insightful, intelligent little person. It all happened to quickly...and I know that time is only speeding up from here.
If I live to be a hundred, there are some parts of this parenting experience that I will carry with me forever. The smell of my girls when they were tiny babies. The incredible loving bond I felt as they nursed. The smell of their sweet milky breath. Their first smiles. Sharing in the joy of their early accomplishments - rolling over, crawling, walking. The sound of their slow breathing, and the feeling of soft, chubby little feet against my back in the middle of the night. Their infectious giggles ringing through the house. The sparkle dancing in their eyes as they share their excitement. Hearing the words, "I love you, Mommy."
It's all so precious. And I am so fortunate.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
A run in the rain
My upper back has been killing me for the last several days. It's the lack of running that's responsible for it. It happens every time, if I go longer than a couple of days between runs, my upper back tightens up, kinks, and becomes very painful. Then, a few days of running later, it's back to normal, feeling great.
I guess my body is telling me something, huh? It's happier when I'm running regularly. Then again, all of me is happier when I'm running regularly. My mood is better, my mind is clearer, my spirit feels lighter. For some reason I always seem to forget about all of these benefits from time to time. I guess it comes back to the fact that I've never been all that great at self-care. I can manage it for a while, but then I always slip back into old, self-destructive patterns. Ah, well.
This morning I woke up at 5:30. I'd set my internal alarm for 6:00 but I guess at least part of me was begging for that run. I got up and got ready to head out, and looked outside. It was pouring. Buckets. I don't mind running in the rain at all, but the thought of heading out, dry, into a torrential downpour was a little disheartening. I decided to check email and see if it let up a bit.
Luckily, it did, at least for a few minutes. Once I'm out there, the rain doesn't bother me. In fact, I've written before about how I love running in the rain, that it feels cleansing somehow. I found myself running along this morning, in the pouring rain, grinning like an idiot, loving every minute of it. It's always moments like those when I feel truly alive.
Today, I am alive. And very happy to be so. And now, off to spend a little quality time with my big boy Brad. The run was good...but a run and big cup of coffee is even better.
I guess my body is telling me something, huh? It's happier when I'm running regularly. Then again, all of me is happier when I'm running regularly. My mood is better, my mind is clearer, my spirit feels lighter. For some reason I always seem to forget about all of these benefits from time to time. I guess it comes back to the fact that I've never been all that great at self-care. I can manage it for a while, but then I always slip back into old, self-destructive patterns. Ah, well.
This morning I woke up at 5:30. I'd set my internal alarm for 6:00 but I guess at least part of me was begging for that run. I got up and got ready to head out, and looked outside. It was pouring. Buckets. I don't mind running in the rain at all, but the thought of heading out, dry, into a torrential downpour was a little disheartening. I decided to check email and see if it let up a bit.
Luckily, it did, at least for a few minutes. Once I'm out there, the rain doesn't bother me. In fact, I've written before about how I love running in the rain, that it feels cleansing somehow. I found myself running along this morning, in the pouring rain, grinning like an idiot, loving every minute of it. It's always moments like those when I feel truly alive.
Today, I am alive. And very happy to be so. And now, off to spend a little quality time with my big boy Brad. The run was good...but a run and big cup of coffee is even better.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
My Budding Little Feminist.....
Ah, one of those joyful little parenting moments that I just had to share....
Tonight as I was putting Molly to bed, she wanted to tell me a story "from her head". I obliged, knowing what was coming, the usual, which is always some twisted rambling version of "The Three Little Pigs". Frankly, I think it's just her bedtime stalling routine. Some kids ask for water, other kids make up 15 minute long incomprehensible versions of their favourite stories.
The story began with pigs, and a wolf, and then went off into left field with something about ladybugs with magic powers. When I urged her that she would soon need to wrap things up, she decided to go back to a more traditional telling of the story. When she got to the part about the pig who built the brick house she said, "The biggest pig, him built a brick house. Him was smart. Him was a girl."
Ah, yes. Only one pig figured out that straw and sticks didn't make good building material as protection in the wild woods where big bad wolves were known to frolic about. Of course it was female.
Heh.
Tonight as I was putting Molly to bed, she wanted to tell me a story "from her head". I obliged, knowing what was coming, the usual, which is always some twisted rambling version of "The Three Little Pigs". Frankly, I think it's just her bedtime stalling routine. Some kids ask for water, other kids make up 15 minute long incomprehensible versions of their favourite stories.
The story began with pigs, and a wolf, and then went off into left field with something about ladybugs with magic powers. When I urged her that she would soon need to wrap things up, she decided to go back to a more traditional telling of the story. When she got to the part about the pig who built the brick house she said, "The biggest pig, him built a brick house. Him was smart. Him was a girl."
Ah, yes. Only one pig figured out that straw and sticks didn't make good building material as protection in the wild woods where big bad wolves were known to frolic about. Of course it was female.
Heh.
Sluggish...
I've been feeling a bit physically sluggish for the last little while. I haven't been getting up for my early morning runs, and I know that's part of it. It's one of those catch-22 situations, though -- I have less energy, so I don't get up early, which leaves me feeling more sluggish...and on and on and on...
I've also been sorely lacking in sleep. Every night I promise myself that THIS is the night I'll be going to bed early....and somehow it just keeps not happening. Sometimes for reasons out of my control, friends needing emergency therapy sessions, kids waking up, a too hot bedroom...other times it's because I allow myself to get sidetracked with one thing or another.
Tonight's the night, though. I'm going to bed early if it KILLS me. Seriously. And then next week, I'm getting back on track with the running. Again -- IF IT KILLS ME. This feeling sluggish all the time is NOT for me.
I've also been sorely lacking in sleep. Every night I promise myself that THIS is the night I'll be going to bed early....and somehow it just keeps not happening. Sometimes for reasons out of my control, friends needing emergency therapy sessions, kids waking up, a too hot bedroom...other times it's because I allow myself to get sidetracked with one thing or another.
Tonight's the night, though. I'm going to bed early if it KILLS me. Seriously. And then next week, I'm getting back on track with the running. Again -- IF IT KILLS ME. This feeling sluggish all the time is NOT for me.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Life According to Jann
I'm a big fan of Jann Arden. Not just of her music, but of her writing as well. She has an online journal, has had it for years, and it's filled with wonderful poetic prose...just her odd ramblings and observations about life.
Some of her previous journal entries have been compiled into two books. I've owned one of them for years, and the other one I recently got out of the library. I've been reading both of them a lot lately. I just love her sense of humour and the way she sees herself and the world. She's so down to earth and profound and humble. I bet she'd be a riot to share a bottle of wine with.
I recently read the following passage from her book, "If I knew, don't you think I'd tell you?" The entry is from May of 2000:
"....I don't regret any part of my life. I rarely go back to those old times. I hear them in my head though, whispering to me...warning me. I know my life will be based on memories. What I choose to be will be based on what I do with those memories. Even the bad ones shine somehow. The lessons still unravel even today. And it's always a different lesson, from the very same memory. Every time I think of one of those days or nights or moments...the lesson is so different."
This passage really spoke to me when I read it. I find myself somehow encouraged by the idea that memories have different lessons to teach, depending on who we are at the time that we remember it. I guess that's what life is about, really...constantly learning, constantly evolving.
I hope I never grow stagnant.
Some of her previous journal entries have been compiled into two books. I've owned one of them for years, and the other one I recently got out of the library. I've been reading both of them a lot lately. I just love her sense of humour and the way she sees herself and the world. She's so down to earth and profound and humble. I bet she'd be a riot to share a bottle of wine with.
I recently read the following passage from her book, "If I knew, don't you think I'd tell you?" The entry is from May of 2000:
"....I don't regret any part of my life. I rarely go back to those old times. I hear them in my head though, whispering to me...warning me. I know my life will be based on memories. What I choose to be will be based on what I do with those memories. Even the bad ones shine somehow. The lessons still unravel even today. And it's always a different lesson, from the very same memory. Every time I think of one of those days or nights or moments...the lesson is so different."
This passage really spoke to me when I read it. I find myself somehow encouraged by the idea that memories have different lessons to teach, depending on who we are at the time that we remember it. I guess that's what life is about, really...constantly learning, constantly evolving.
I hope I never grow stagnant.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Infrequent Posting
I'm sure more than a few of you have noticed that my posts have been a bit more infrequent lately.
There is good news for this -- I am too busy to write. I am busy being out there living, doing things with the girls, planning homeschool materials, spending more time with Chris, running, just generally enjoying life.
And the thing about enjoying life is that there's a whole lot less time to write about it.
I am feeling strong, settled and content....more than I have in a very long time. So be happy that there's less here to read lately...it only shows how great life really is these days.
There is good news for this -- I am too busy to write. I am busy being out there living, doing things with the girls, planning homeschool materials, spending more time with Chris, running, just generally enjoying life.
And the thing about enjoying life is that there's a whole lot less time to write about it.
I am feeling strong, settled and content....more than I have in a very long time. So be happy that there's less here to read lately...it only shows how great life really is these days.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
The Truth About Running
Damn, my running clothes stink.
I'm not one of those "dainty joggers" that goes out there in a perfectly coordinated outfit with perfect hair pulled back, a delicate glow of perspiration on my forehead. Nope, that's not me at all.
When I hit the streets at 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, it's after rolling out of bed, splashing water on my face, hair yanked back any which way that's out of my face, clothes thrown on. I get out there with my teeth unbrushed, my B.O. drifting up into my face after barely getting warmed up. My face turns beet-red and I sweat buckets.
No, people, for those of you who aren't aware, running is a far from glamorous sport. Sweating, spitting, blowing one's nose without a tissue, and clothes so drenched in pit-smell that even the strongest of detergents can't fully erase it. You've got to deal with sloshing through puddles, squishing through slushy sidewalks, slipping on icy sidewalks, sharp snowflakes slicing at your eyeballs, rain pelting your face, sub-zero temperatures biting at your extremities and humidity so bad that you feel like you're covered in grease after the first ten minutes. There's blisters, pulled muscles, chafing, cramping, blackened toenails and greased nether-regions.
The good news about running is that anyone with the kahunas can do it. All you need is a decent pair of shoes and some comfy clothes and you're all set. You're propelled forward by your own body and strength of character. You can do it pretty much anywhere. There's nothing like seeing the sun rise or making it home after facing a particularly difficult challenge like snow or rain or sore muscles. The energy boost it gives me is unmatched by any other. It's a lonely sport, that tests your ability to be alone with your thoughts and focus on your mind, body, and spirit. It's like meditation - with sweat.
Running - real running - isn't for the quickly offended, easily grossed out wimp. When it comes to running, only the strong survive. But as they say, that which doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.
I love everything about it.
Now...time to wash those running clothes. Oh wait a second - they ARE clean. heh
I'm not one of those "dainty joggers" that goes out there in a perfectly coordinated outfit with perfect hair pulled back, a delicate glow of perspiration on my forehead. Nope, that's not me at all.
When I hit the streets at 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, it's after rolling out of bed, splashing water on my face, hair yanked back any which way that's out of my face, clothes thrown on. I get out there with my teeth unbrushed, my B.O. drifting up into my face after barely getting warmed up. My face turns beet-red and I sweat buckets.
No, people, for those of you who aren't aware, running is a far from glamorous sport. Sweating, spitting, blowing one's nose without a tissue, and clothes so drenched in pit-smell that even the strongest of detergents can't fully erase it. You've got to deal with sloshing through puddles, squishing through slushy sidewalks, slipping on icy sidewalks, sharp snowflakes slicing at your eyeballs, rain pelting your face, sub-zero temperatures biting at your extremities and humidity so bad that you feel like you're covered in grease after the first ten minutes. There's blisters, pulled muscles, chafing, cramping, blackened toenails and greased nether-regions.
The good news about running is that anyone with the kahunas can do it. All you need is a decent pair of shoes and some comfy clothes and you're all set. You're propelled forward by your own body and strength of character. You can do it pretty much anywhere. There's nothing like seeing the sun rise or making it home after facing a particularly difficult challenge like snow or rain or sore muscles. The energy boost it gives me is unmatched by any other. It's a lonely sport, that tests your ability to be alone with your thoughts and focus on your mind, body, and spirit. It's like meditation - with sweat.
Running - real running - isn't for the quickly offended, easily grossed out wimp. When it comes to running, only the strong survive. But as they say, that which doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.
I love everything about it.
Now...time to wash those running clothes. Oh wait a second - they ARE clean. heh
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