Holding On & Letting Go

I'm willing to admit that I don't have much patience and what patience I do have has developed since I became a mother. And on occasion, I can be a little dramatic. Or a lot, depending on the day.

While Max has inherited many of my good qualities, he has also inherited my lack of patience and flair for drama.

We've had lots of discussions about using patience, especially as I am working with Max on riding his bike. I've made a deal with Max and yes, bribery may be involved: He needs to learn to ride his bike before he starts 3rd grade.

Max: But I might fall and hurt myself and bleed.

Me: You will fall, Max but you'll get right back up. I fell off my bike lots of times and we didn't even wear helmets.

Max: But this is so HARD and I just want to learn RIGHT NOW and have it be easy.

Me: Remember how we talked about that sometimes the best things aren't the ones that come easy? When you have to work at something you are more appreciative of what it takes to get there.

Max: Well, I am still scared of falling and I think I will just call my bike the vehicle of death! (See what I mean about the drama?)

As we rode around the driveway (slowly) and practiced starting and stopping, I remembered my yellow bike with the plastic basket covered in flowers and the day the training wheels came off. I was scared. And yes I fell. Lots. I told Max this story and while I'm not sure I convinced him that he really shouldn't be scared, I saw a glimmer of a smile each time he went a little further without me holding on.

Max: Promise you won't let go Mom. Not ever.

Mom: I won't let go yet, but soon you won't need me to hold on.

Funny how growing up and riding a bike have so many similarities.

The Perfect Mother's Day

Max: On Mother's Day, you don't have to do anything. Not even any hard stuff. Just what you want to do

Me: That's a great idea. What do you think I would like to do?

Max: You would first go on a run and then go to Starbucks. Then you would eat that omelette thing you like at Jimmy's Egg. I think after that you would go to the mall. You would try on lots of clothes at J Crew and you could take your time because when I am with you I tell you that I am bored. I would even give you $5 to buy that necklace you like. After that you would eat Mexican food because you really like it. I think that's it.

Me: Max, that sounds like a perfect day. How do you know all the things I like to do?

Max: I just do. I know you, Mom.

How lucky am I? Not because he wants me to have the perfect day but because I am Max's mom. No trip to J Crew could match laying in bed watching a video with my sweet boy, which is what we're doing right now. The mall can wait.

To my precious Mom, who taught me what being a mother is all about, I love you! And to all my mom friends who inspire and encourage me every day...Happy Mother's Day!

Advice for the 2nd Grade Substitute

Max: What does regret mean?

Me: It means that you're sorry you did something. (My curiousity is peaked at this point)

Max: Well, there is something I should tell you. My whole class had to write a letter to our substitute from Monday. Apparently, we talked a lot. And we didn't really listen to her. Though, I don't think it was me.

Me: Max, you talk when you don't have a substitute so I have no doubt you did your share.

Max: OK, I did.

Me: So what did your letter say?

Max: That I was sorry for all that stuff that I did. But you know what else I said in my letter?

Me: What else did you say? (Again, curiousity peaked)

Max: I told the sub the things she did wrong while she was in our class. If we had to talk about what we did wrong, she needed to know what she did too. And I told her. Like how she did the spelling words completely wrong. And other stuff.

Me: I'm not sure what to say about that, Max.

Max: Oh well, she just needed to know for the next time she substitutes.

Me: I bet she's very appreciative of your advice.

Max: Yeah, she probably is. I like to be helpful.

Where Were You That Day, Mom?

A few weeks ago, Max brought home his library book as he does every week. It was a children’s book about the Oklahoma City bombing.

“I know this was a bad thing that happened in Oklahoma City. And it is where Ms. Kari works and I just wanted to know more.”

We talked a little about what happened that day, where I was, where his dad was and how violence doesn’t solve anything.

Any of us who were in Oklahoma City 15 years ago today, or even those who weren’t, remember exactly what we were doing and how we felt. It seems like it all happened yesterday and it also seems like forever ago. Our city and so many lives were changed. Oklahomans showed strength, courage and resilience while the nation lifted us up as we began the healing process.

What now stands on the site of the Murrah Federal Building is a tribute to “those who were killed, those who survived and those changed forever.“ The Memorial & Museum help educate visitors about the impact of violence, inspire hope and healing and sharing and lessons learned by those affected. Max says he thinks he would like to visit there soon to learn more than what he read in his library book.

As he woke up this morning we talked about the day and I reminded him that it was 15 years ago today that the bombing happened. As I was packing lunch and his backpack he said “I set our DVR for the live coverage, Mom, because I want to watch it when I get home.”

We drove to school down Grand Boulevard and saw the banners hanging from the light poles, each with a name of someone who died 15 years ago today. A reminder to those of us who are running the Memorial Marathon on Sunday why we’re there.

“Mom, I know how when you run, you run your miles for different people, like me. But I think you should run some miles for the 168 people who died, too.”

You can count on it, Max.

Listening to the Savage Drummer

This is how my day started last Thursday morning at approximately 7:20 a.m.:

Max: I have a music program today at 2 p.m.

Me: No, I don’t think so. It is just practice.

Max: Mom, my program is today. I am a Savage Drummer. My shirt has feathers.

Me: I really don’t think it is today, but let me check.

So began my search of the school newsletter, website, then a text to my friend Margaret saying “ I think Max is confused…is there a program today?”

Return text from Margaret: Max is right, the program is at 2 p.m. today.

Me: AHHHHH!!!

While I knew there was a program coming up because I had sent the required costume elements, I had absolutely no idea it was Thursday. How did I miss it? I am diligent about reviewing the school newsletter, website, etc. but for some reason this one just slipped right on by. That happens, right?

Luckily my afternoon was open and I could attend the 1st & 2nd grade “Shipwreck” musical to see Max as a Savage Drummer. Mommy guilt diverted. Barely.

This made me think about listening…truly listening when your kid tells you something. I'm learning they're usually right on. But I assumed because I didn’t know about it, it meant it wasn’t happening. Not true. Max knew his program was at 2 p.m. and told me more than once. Apparently, he listened much better than I did.

“Max, you’re right. You do have a music program today. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” I said.

“That’s OK, Mom. I understand. Even Moms forget to listen sometimes, but not very often, right?”

I can only hope.


(Photo: That's Duncan, Max's buddy & fellow Savage Drummer)

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.