One Foggy Morning

I woke up this morning with an earful of baby slobber and a kink in my back thanks to a sippy cup lodged under my shoulder blade.  I glanced at the clock.  Five fifteen a.m.  Bleh.  “I do not want to get up and go running,” I thought to myself.  It had been a long night of musical beds between all three kids’ rooms. I finally wimped out and brought the littlest one to our bed in hopes of a few minutes of rest before the alarm buzzed.  But restful isn’t exactly how I would describe the hours from 2:00 a.m. on.

In the predawn darkness, I let my mind wander through a myriad of excuses of why I should stay in bed.

However, the coffee was percolating merrily in the kitchen and its life-giving, caffeine-laden aroma was enticing.  I knew quite well that going running before the kids woke up and before Brandon headed out for the day was my best shot at getting a run in at all.  I pushed all the excuses aside, rolled my snoozing little boy out of the crook of my neck and slipped as quietly as possible out of my warm bed.

Even in the dark of the morning, I could tell that it was very foggy outside.   A glance at the thermometer informed me that it was a frigid 19 degrees.  Yuck.  The excuses flooded my mind again.

I would really love to sit on the couch with a warm blanket and enjoy another cup of coffee and another few pages of the Southern Living magazine my mom gave me but…

I reluctantly pulled on my shabby winter running gear which consists of track tights left over from high school (emphasis on the TIGHT thirteen years later), layered unflattering sweat shirts, a fleece vest, a Carhartt stocking cap, and mismatched roping gloves.  Wow.  I’m sure I looked like I came straight from the most recent issue of Runner’s World.  But I was dressed and ready to brave the icy morning so I gathered up the technological components of my get-up only to realize that my cherished Ipod was dead.  My desktop computer is in the shop and there was certainly no time to install Itunes and charge the little dude on my laptop so for the first time in a long time I headed out the door without Dave Ramsey, 90’s rock, or an audiobook to distract me.

The first quarter mile or so was miserable.  My legs were heavy.  The freezing air was burning my lungs.  My fancy minimalist shoes weren’t doing much of anything to keep my toes warm.  But then, I got over the hill and found myself enveloped by the fog.  I could only see about thirty feet on all sides of me.  There was no wind.  I couldn’t hear anything except the sound of my feet crunching along the frozen ground, the pitter-patter of my dogs behind me and the huffing and puffing coming from my mouth.  No distractions.  It was weird and wonderful all at the same time.

There in the fog that blotted out the rest of the world, I mulled over the events of the last few days.  We celebrated my daughter’s fifth birthday.  FIFTH birthday!    Although the party had been a joyful event, I hadn’t been able to shake the uncomfortable thought of the years blazing by as I struggle with the day to day laundry, cleaning, cooking, changing diapers, keeping the kids happy and healthy, etc., etc.

I am the mother of a FIVE YEAR OLD!

Where has the time gone?  She will be going to kindergarten soon!  Have I taught her everything she needs to know up to this point?  Have I adequately documented her five years on this earth?  Have I hugged and kissed her and told her I love her enough?  Have I paid enough attention to each milestone in her life?

I know that I am not the only mother who is haunted by these types of questions as their children grow up.  I am reading a book called The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.  The author proclaims “The days are long but the years are short” to be one of her “Splendid Truths”.  Ouch.  That is exactly how I am feeling as carefully pick my way through an iced over mud puddle.

Rubin also addresses the obvious fact that we can’t stop or slow down the progression of time.  If that were the case, as my dad says, my sisters and I would all still be seven years old.  According to Gretchen, the only way to combat the years whizzing by is to make every effort to be “conscious in the moment” with your children.  A little psycho-babble-y, yes, but true nonetheless.

I pounded my way along the ruts in the frozen two track road and realized I had reached my turn around point.  I hollered to the dogs who had ventured off into the blanket of fog ahead of me and then I about-faced and headed back in what I knew was the direction of home even though I still couldn’t see a blessed thing beyond the thirty foot radius around me.

I played a mental slide show of the last five years.  The day we brought Natalie home from the hospital.  The four day power outage when she was a week old.  Her first steps.  Riding her pony.  Splashing in the mineral tub “pool”.  The pride and joy she takes in being a big sister.  Learning to skip rocks.  Her first ballet recital.  My eyes burned with tears.  Yes.  These last five years have been a blur but what a happy, beautiful, and delightful blur it has been!

I finally trudged through the back door of my house and was greeted by three sleepy-eyed, pajama-clad kids with early morning craggy voices yelling “Mama’s home!  Mama’s home!” and a smiling husband who only looked slightly impatient.  Despite the obvious need to change the baby’s diaper and my sweat soaked clothes, I made sure to hug them all soundly and tell them good morning rather than rushing right in to the daily rigmarole.

I suppose the answers to the guilt-ridden, and perhaps overly anxious, questions plaguing my mind during my thoughtful run do not exist or are at least not relevant right now.  All that really matters is that I am doing my very best to be “conscious in the moment.”  Thanks Gretchen.

I am going to make running without my Ipod a regular part of my workout routine.  I can’t say that I will always go au natural because it took me a good bit longer to run my scheduled three miles without something in my ear to quicken my step but it was a very interesting exercise in ‘being in the moment’ and one that I would like to repeat.

I also know that it will be difficult if not impossible to cherish each moment with my kids but I want to make a conscious effort to improve the ratio between moments I appreciate what is happening RIGHT NOW to those that I am pushing the kids aside or distracting them into leaving me alone to grind out another item on my to-do list.

In fact, I’m starting right now as Ike has been snuggled on my lap watching me type the last three paragraphs.   Now Natalie is going to push the final ‘save’ button for this post.  Even though I can hardly reach the keyboard because of my lapful of kids, I know that the days of them asking to sit in my lap are numbered.  The days are long but the years are short.  I’m loving this moment in time.

Advertisements

2 comments on “One Foggy Morning

  1. Tanya says:

    Thank you Becky! You’re wonderful!
    I’m so proud of you for getting back to this “pursuit”; I’ve missed your wonderful stories!
    Have a blessed day!

  2. Kim says:

    Beck,
    THAT gave me goosebumps. Powerful. Thanks for the inspiration.
    Kim
    (hi Tanya!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s