I Know Why You Run…

Max: I know why you run, Mom.

Me: Tell me why you think I run.

Max: Well, for your heart and stuff. And because you like to have coffee with the girls after.


Running…I’m addicted. It makes me more patient, clear-headed, empowered and healthy. And yes, I do love coffee with my running girls afterwards. (Don’t tell, sometimes we pretend that it takes a REALLY long time for coffee.)

Over the past two years, I have done the majority of my running—or training—early in the morning, long before anyone at my house is awake or even knows I’m gone. That’s good for someone with the occasional bout of Mommy Guilt.

But the girls and I have committed to the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon (26.2 miles for goodness sake) on April 25, 2010. With that comes the addition of long runs…really long runs that can take hours even without coffee afterwards. It got me thinking about the balancing act of being a mom, daughter, friend, employee, volunteer, etc. and a runner. How can you fit it all in? If you’re like me—whether you have children or not—there are days you juggle it all very well and other days when it falls apart regardless of how well you plan. And those days when it falls apart, you may still need to get your miles in somehow.

I’ve asked Max a few times how he feels about my running and the time it takes. “Its fine, Mom,” he says. “Because I am proud of you and want you to win.” I love that. And it makes me want to keep running.

Running came into my life two years ago. Up until then, I walked the neighborhood and did yoga on occasion but there wasn’t really any sport or physical activity I was passionate about. I played a little tennis in high school and have attempted golf and I can honestly say I never in a million years imagined myself a runner. But I am. And I am passionate about it.

Max isn’t a competitive kid and sports really aren’t his thing right now. “I am good at other things,” he says. And he still gets physical activity in other ways, which is what is important. I’ve told Max how I really wasn’t into sports when I was younger and that it took me awhile to find my love of running. “Yes, you were older,” he tells me. Just like a kid to bring age into it.

Max knows why I run and is proud of me for it and I can’t help but think I am setting a good example, whether he ever finds his own love of running or not. What I really want is for him to find something—sports or otherwise—that he’s passionate about, even if it doesn’t come until he’s “older.”

"I Think Cats Go to Heaven, Don't You Mom?"

C.B.
1997- 2010

After purchasing our house, Rich and I made lots of trips to Home Depot for very important “house things.” On a Saturday night in July 1997, we decided to stop at City Bites for a sandwich before we made our weekly trek to Home Depot. Outside the door of City Bites sat a small grey cat who gave a loud meow as we walked up. I had to pet her, of course, and she rubbed on me and purred. We went inside and I asked the clerk if she knew anything about the cat outside the door. “Yes, we’ve been feeding her,” she said. “But some of the kids around here have been mean to her.” I have no tolerance for meanness to animals—AT ALL— and told Rich, “If she is still out there when we leave, she’s coming home with us.”

Of course, she was still sitting outside the restaurant when we left so I scooped her up and put her in the car. We cracked the windows as we went into Home Depot and when we came out we found her on the dashboard, lounging on her back in the sun. C.B. (City Bites) had found a home.

Of all the animals in our house, she was the lowest-maintenance. Quiet, loving and content to do what cats do all day…lay around. She had her quirks: she loved to drink water out of the sink and would come running when she heard you in the bathroom. C.B. also loved to have you aim the hair dryer at her and would stick her face right up to it. And she was partial to trying to sleep on your head or stalking a bowl of cereal like in the picture posted above. C.B. had an adventurous streak, too. Case in point: the Christmas Tree Incidents of 2002, 2003 and 2004.

Over the past week or so, I had the feeling she was sick. After a few days at the vet he felt like she was well enough to come home. She spent one last night with us and this morning, I knew she was dying. C.B. struggled to walk, but came in the bathroom for one last session with the blow dryer. I rubbed her head, told her how much I loved her and said goodbye. She went back to the vet and he told us there was nothing we could do but let her go.

Just as we found a home 13 years ago, C.B. found her home, too. What a blessing she has been to our family. I will miss you, sweet girl.

“I Can’t Believe What I’ve Been Missing!”

Something big occurred yesterday. Really big.

Max ate a cheeseburger.

OK, so that may not seem like a big deal to anyone but me. But trust me, it’s big. Huge.

First, let me say that food has never been a priority to Max. He’s always felt that eating interrupts the important things like Lego building or playing on the computer or doing other things critical to a kid.

Max was good about trying most foods and except for his first and only experience with peas, he was fairly agreeable. That changed at 2 when he began to turn his nose up at the things he always loved. After much discussion with the pediatrician (and my mother) it was explained to me that he wasn’t going to starve and that as long as he was eating fairly nutritious things—even over and over—he would be just fine but to keep trying to introduce new foods to him. And I did…dressing them up, making fun shapes, mixing pureed vegetables into mac & cheese (um, yes, he busted me fast on that one) and even making up songs/dances about just how good something would be. Not my finest moments but I tried everything.

For the past few years, his top/only items include fish sticks (Fisher Boy brand), chicken nuggets (Tyson), turkey and provolone sandwiches (Subway & City Bites), peanut butter (eaten with a spoon, not on bread) and sliced cheese (Kraft). Throw in Goldfish crackers, Cheerios, yogurt, milk, applesauce, mandarin oranges and milk and that is basically his list of approved foods. Oh, and anything chocolate.

“You just don’t know what you might be missing,” I would tell him. “I bet you would like this if you would just try—even one little bite.”

“But Mom, I don’t like that, I just know it.”

“How do you know unless you try, Max?”

“I just know, Mom, trust me.”

This has been a common conversation over the past few years. Almost daily.

But for whatever reason, last night at McDonald’s he decided to try a cheeseburger. And he loved it. Saying he had “NO IDEA what he had been missing all these years and it was SO GOOD.” Though next time, no pickles or mustard.

And while I am thrilled he’s added a new food to his approved list, in my mind the bigger accomplishment is that Max realized that unless you are open to new things and step out of what is comfortable or familiar, you never know what wonderful thing might be out there.

Not bad for me to remember either.

"The Only Bummer is Math..."

Max: “The life of a 2nd grader is great. You get to cut with knives and break some rules. The only bummer is math. “


Math…ugh. I have a long-standing hate-hate relationship with math. I was never good at it and it gave me a pit in my stomach when I had to do it. I remember many a night whining “I can’t do this” while laying across the kitchen table as my mother—a school teacher— quizzed me on multiplication tables. Don’t even get me started on long division. And in my brain, X can never equal Y. Ever.

I’ve tried very hard not to put my fear and loathing of math on to Max. But while we’ve sat at the kitchen table working on double-digit addition and subtraction (with regrouping) I’ve witnessed the draped-on-the-table, whiny, “I hate math” look my mother saw 30-something years ago. Proving as she has always said, “apples don’t fall far from the tree.”

So, how do I encourage Max to work hard at something that is necessary but he clearly doesn’t enjoy? I decided to share with him my struggles in math. I told him that I didn’t always think I was good at math and that I complained to my mom (a lot) when I had to do it. But then I explained why math is important and how I use it every day to do things at work and at home. I also told him how many of the things he’s interested in require math. I also admitted to him that if I had applied myself and whined less, I would have been better at math.

Thanks to a patient teacher, his godmother (who is also a 2nd grade teacher) and lots of hard work by Max, he is making great progress and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the certificate (pictured above) came home in his backpack.

The Tooth That Wouldn't Come Out

Max lost his first tooth in November 2007 during kindergarten. He pulled it out himself and was quite matter of fact about it. The rest came out easily—one was swallowed because it came out while he was eating a Subway sandwich—and yes, we had to discuss how it would leave his body.

But then, there’s the tooth that wouldn’t come out. It has been loose forever. Really, really loose for what seems like a year.

“Max, that tooth is so loose, you can just pull it out.” I told him.

“But Mom, (in his best drama-filled voice) it will HURT and it will BLEED and I AM SCARED.”

“How about biting into an apple, that will help it come out,” I suggested.

“Duh, Mom, I don’t like apples, only applesauce and I doubt it will come out eating applesauce.”

True.

Max had a dentist appointment in December and after the examination Dr. Guthrie explained that he and Max discussed in great detail how the tooth really needed to come out and Max assured him that he would take care of it immediately.

Umm, right.

Fast forward to now. Yes, I have reminded, asked, begged, offered, and still, the tooth is there.

Tonight, as I watched him wiggling it with his tongue and making a weird noise, I decided it was ultimatum time.

“OK, Max here’s the deal. The tooth has got to come out. Either you pull it or I am.”

“Mom, no, let’s talk about it. I really want to talk about it.”

This is his number one stall tactic…talking about it. Which consists of his stellar negotiation skills that will serve him well someday in the real world. Just not now or with me.

“There is nothing to talk about. The tooth is hanging. You have another tooth trying to come in and the baby tooth is in the way. What’s your decision, you or me?”

There was fretting, stalling and finally, he sat down on my lap and said, “OK Mom, let’s do this.”

So before he could change his mind, I reached in and without much effort, the tooth was out.

“WOO HOO AWESOME, that didn’t even HURT and I don’t feel any BLOOD and now it is OUT and the Tooth Fairy can come. Thanks Mom, you are the BEST!” And then, he high-fived me.

After he inspected the tooth and grinned at himself in the mirror, we tucked the tooth in the pocket of the Tooth Fairy pillow and put it on the end of the bed.

“Mom, I’m kinda going to miss that little baby tooth that I wiggled all the time and made that cool noise,” he said. “Oh, well it was time 'cause it has been loose forever."

Exactly.

"I'm Bill Clinton..."

The big day has arrived. The Christ the King Catholic School 2nd Grade President’s Day Program. I’d like to say Max bounded out of bed, pumped for the program and ready to put on his costume but that would be stretching the truth. A lot.

As Max opened his eyes this morning he said, “Mom, I’m scared. There will be lots of people at the program and that makes me nervous.” As we talked more, I explained that he couldn’t let fear keep him from doing things he needs to do, or wants to do for that matter. I told him he would be the best 2nd grade Bill Clinton in the history of the world and that I had 100 percent faith that he would be fabulous. But that in order to be fabulous, he had to get dressed.

Max’s costume consisted of his dad’s shirt, jacket and tie, a circa-1992 F.O.B (Friend of Bill) button courtesy of my friend Christi, and a Bill Clinton-style wig. The last one on the rack at Party Galaxy. I’m certain that was a sign.

“I am not so sure about this wig, Mom. It is itchy.”

“You won’t have to wear it for long and it is perfect, you look just like Bill.”

As he adjusted his wig and looked at himself in the mirror he said, “I think when I do my speech, I will pull my glasses down on my nose because Bill does that when he makes speeches.”

Clearly, Max had studied Bill.

Before he left I reminded him again that he would be great and I would see him at school. “We go in presidential order, Mom, so I will be number 42.”

The kids filed in and sat in their assigned spots. I saw Max craning his neck to find me. He spotted me and smiled. I gave him the thumbs-up and he grinned.

After stunning performances by George, Jefferson and Abe, FDR, Dwight, JFK, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush and all the others, it was time for Bill. Max read his speech, sharing that Bill was born in Hope, Arkansas, was a lawyer before he was president, signed the North American Free Trade Agreement and that he is allergic to Chelsea’s cat, Socks. And then he smiled and stepped down. I could see the relief on his face.

As he spoke, I think my heart was probably beating as fast as Max’s, not because I didn’t have faith, but that is just what happens when a mom sees her child stand up and do something that scares them. As he took his seat, he looked at me and smiled and gave me the thumbs-up.

After congratulatory hugs, pictures and cookies, it was time for 2nd grade to resume and parents to leave. I hugged him and said goodbye. He said, “I did pretty good, Mom.”

No, Max, you were fabulous.

President's Day: The Second Grade Version

Max: We’re having a President’s Day program and I have to choose a president to research. I have to give Mrs. Phoenix my top three.

Me: Who are your top three?

Max: Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush

Me: What made you choose them?

Max: Well, Bill Clinton was a guest on the PBS show “Arthur” and I liked that show when I was a kid. Ronald Reagan…well, he’s dead and I thought I should have one on my list who is dead. And George W. Bush, well, I think he might be cool. Or at least kind of cool. But I don’t think everyone thinks so.

Max was given Bill Clinton to research and apparently, was the only kid in second grade who requested Bill Clinton. Parents were told that all research must be done at school because there are things about certain presidents (Bill Clinton) that kids can find on the Internet so at school they can be sure only second grade appropriate information is available.

He's worked hard on his report the past few weeks and has shared lots of interesting facts with me: "Mom, Did you know Bill was impeached by Congress?" (Yes, he is now fondly referring to him as Bill.) On Tuesday at the Christ the King Second Grade President’s Day Program, Max will dress up like Bill and present his report. I asked Max how he should dress and was told that Bill "always wears suits with white shirts." So now I am frantically working on a costume. Stay tuned…photos will be posted on Tuesday.