Running: Part II

I've never been great a keeping a diary. I loved the idea, but it just never happened. I think having a journal or scrapbook is such a nice thing to have, but it just isn't me. I have random poems and snippets of written stuff all over the house, but it is not consistent. Now, I easily realise something that I've known for a long time: I run from myself. Having children has made it more difficult to escape this fact. I have always kept a busy schedule. I thrive off of that. And in fact, I believe that I need that. I don't have any deep dark secrets or a terrible past that I'm running from. I just can't function when it's about me. It being anything. I'm learning slowly to take things for myself, but I'm not very good about it yet.

What I need most is time and space and to be perfectly honest being mom of two young children and wife to a wonderful husband who happens to be the opposite of me in this matter makes this difficult to say the least. It's a bit like a three-legged race, but I'm not tied to a peer of got the two kids and husband tied to me. The husband happens to be a triathlete, the two year old is running off happily in his own world and the four year old is trying to drag me along wherever she goes.

Instead of running off on my own creative path, I'm taking some laps on a track. So here I find myself doing a small job which I love. I'm making someone else's scrapbook. I get to do the creative thing. It's a real job (real enough for me anyway) and it's not about me or my family. Their things are in a box (slightly nicer than the Bazooka gum box my childhood memories are in at my parent's house).
I'm also finding that this blog and now my examiner articles are the closest I'm going to get to a journal or diary right now. I'm okay with that...because this is for me a little and I can share it with friends and family.

I'm going to keep running. That's what I do and that's how I function, but I will take moments to warm up, do a little breathing, and stretch myself.

A Little Sun Peeking Behind the Clouds

This morning I woke up to the sounds of Henry screaming. I'd have to say that I hate waking up to an alarm and I usually woke up before it went off when I had one, but the most jarring way to start one's day is to the sound of your screaming child. Apparently there was a juice cup issue that was of monumental proportions for a couple seconds.

I've been feeling ill for two weeks because I have a cold that my asthma lungs cannot shake and I woke up to another humid, dreary morning.

I walk down into a warmly lit kitchen with the children seated at the table having their breakfast with daddy. They are both already dressed, Hallelujah, this means we can get out the door on time.

After breakfast, the kids snuggle up on the couch for a "morning show" and we hear a baby crying on the monitor in the playroom..then we hear a faint "Head and shoulders, knees and toes...and a baby laugh." I point out to my children that there is a baby crying on the monitor and they hold their bodies still and listen carefully. They hear the mommy singing and the baby stop crying and laugh. They both explode with giggles. This lightness, compassion and happiness envelopes me and takes me out of myself for a little while out of my cold, somewhat frenetic, racing life. We sit there together listening and giggling. That sound of laughter as a reaction to laughter is exponentially lighter and more joyful than any other.

Then, I swear it really happened no lighting or special effects, as we gathered our things to walk out the door, the clouds floated by and the sun lit our day.

Happy Thursday.

Running Part II

(soon...but not yet).