The Big Race Day

I am so excited. I just sat down to our computer, and Robbie had left the weekend's 4 mile race results up for me to view. This morning he said, "Guess who came in first in the 5 year old category?" It was Evelyn!! He then said, "Guess who was the fastest 7 year old girl?" OLIVIA!! Here's the story.

Olivia has now been a runner in four Trolley Runs. This is a four mile race, and it is a lot of fun. She did the first one just before she turned 4 years old. We have enjoyed the race so much that we intend to make it a family event each year. The race raises money for a school for children who have visual impairments.

Grandpa Mike runs marathons, so he has eagerly awaited the chance to run with Olivia. The plan was for Mike and Robbie to run with Olivia, I'd run with Evelyn, and Mom would stay home with Henry and Vivian. We had to leave our house at 6:30 am. The morning was very chilly. I think the temp was barely out of the 50s. We all had bare legs and two layers on top. The girls wore timing devices on their shoes to capture their pace, and they had yellow bibs with individual numbers like big shots. Evelyn seemed very nervous. As we stood in the yellow wave for slower runners waiting to start, she said, "I want to go home now. I'm cold." I explained she wouldn't feel cold once she started running.

We all began together, but as expected, Olivia and the guys left us after about 1/4 mile. Evelyn did really well. She ran in a straight path. She ran at a pretty good clip, and she didn't get too tired. Just as with Olivia back in 2007, when Evelyn wanted to stop, I carried her as fast as I could walk. We didn't stop. We either walked fast or we jogged. After we hit the first mile marker my darling said, "This is one of the most fun things I've EVER done!" We said a little prayer of thankfulness. After we hit the third mile marker of the four mile race she said, "This is the hardest thing I have EVER done!" I believe both statements were true, and I felt great love and much happiness.

The time came when Evelyn really wanted to quit running. I urged her to continue. I praised her outstanding effort. I gave her some more breaks as I carried her, first against my chest hug style, and then on my back. Those short stretches were the toughest parts of the race for me. We had only seen a few short runners, nobody as little as Ev, during the race. Ahead of us, roughly 1/2 mile from the finish line, we saw a sleek duo. The mom was tall and lean. She wore a black cap, black runner's tank, and black tights. Her daughter was also dressed in all black. The girl had a good two heads on Evelyn. During Olivia's first race, I used an old crew cut grandpa and his tired grandson as motivation for Olivia to finish well. Evelyn needed a good old fashioned pep talk to motivate her and spark her competitive spirit. The girls in black were God's wink to me. "Evelyn, do you see that little girl up ahead in black?" She did. "Do you want to beat her?" My peanut's eyes lit up. "Okay, Ev. You can do it, but we have to run." She tried harder. She quickly got tired, and the gap remained. They were half a block ahead of us. Evelyn surged ahead, then almost dropped to a walk. She was tired. I made my decision. I bent down and told her to hop on my back. Up she jumped, and I took off at a dead run. I ran until we were even with the mother-daughter pair. I then put Evelyn back on the road, and I whispered, "Okay, we're even now. If you want to beat her, then it is all up to you. You have to run." Evelyn RAN!!!! We crossed the bridge. She was tired, but she kept going. "I want to see Olivia," she pouted. "She's waiting for you at the finish line. Keep running. We're almost there!" She continued. She slowed. That's when we heard a voice that rang out with excitement and happiness...."EVELYN!!!!!!!!!" It was her daddy, and he was ahead on the sidelines cheering loudly with sister and grandpa. They started screaming for Evelyn, and she kicked it into high gear downhill toward the finish. Her stride was long and her form looked amazing. Her pretty hair blew behind her in the wind. I half thought she was going to run straight to her dad and stop, but luckily I was wrong. I gave her more encouragement as spectators saw the tiny runner and cheered loudly. Cow bells rang. Hands clapped. Electric energy abounded, and joy filled our hearts. My sweet little girl crossed the finish line in 51 minutes 23 seconds. That was a 12:51 pace. She really did come in first in her age group, boys and girls considered. Olivia ran a 10:05 minute mile. She cut her time by 5 minutes from last year, and her time was 40 minutes 17 seconds. One boy her age beat her and one ran three seconds faster. Robbie said that he and Mike were astounded by her speed and ability to maintain it over the long distance. These little girls are amazing. Their daddy is so proud of them. I am so thankful for their strong healthy bodies and determined spirits. God has blessed us, and He is so good.

M-A-D-E-I-N-C-H-I-N-A

Yesterday I decided to grant Evelyn's wish to shop with some Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane birthday money for clothes for her American Girl doll. I picked her up from school, we exchanged her check for dollar bills at the bank, then we headed a bit of a distance to a doll shop. On our way Henry noticed a building painted with a mural of fish, dogs, and other pets. He said, "I want to go see the fishies!!!!" I told him, "Not right now. We are going to the doll shop for Evelyn." This didn't go over well, because the large pets painted all over the building beckoned to my young son. By the time we got to the shop he was really mad. He was so upset that he refused to get out of the van. I decided to carry Vivian and let Henry walk, since the place was small and we were parked directly in front of the main door. Not using my stroller was a mistake. I physically overpowered him to get him out of his carseat and into the store while carrying the baby. At that point he pretty much lost it. He went limp, collapsed to the floor, wailed, and kicked his feet. I stepped around him, asked the saleslady to please excuse my crying son, and told Evelyn to shop. He was so loud. I was embarrassed. Ev was embarrassed. The two workers just ignored him and one later told me she'd been there before. I apologized and told her we were too far from home to turn around and leave because of his tantrum. "He'll stop," I said. He cried for 60 minutes. No, I know it felt that long, but my guess is six minutes. He then got up and found the Bitty Baby in a baseball uniform. From there he noticed a clown doll to which he said, "That doll scares me." Evelyn picked skinny pink jeans, a retro shirt, and sequined flip flops for Julie. She was thrilled with her purchase, and she counted out the money to pay the cashier. The lady gave Ev a birthday gift in a sack. She unwrapped it in the van, and I said, "What does it say?" I thought the little mug had words wrapping around it. I laughed when she spelled M-A-D-E-I-N-C-H-I-N-A. I told her what it spelled, and she said, "Oh, is this a China cup?" She's heard me talk about my china dishes. After school I took Olivia to see her orthodontist. The doctor learned about Olivia's intentions to donate her hair to Locks of Love, and he looked genuinely impressed. Right before we left his office, a receptionist handed Olivia an envelope. "Doctor wanted you to have this, Olivia." Inside was a handwritten note commending Olivia for her big heart. He offered many kind words, and he included a Sonic gift card. She was over the moon with excitement. Her hair is nearly to her waist, and it is quite lovely. I keep telling myself that I am so fortunate to have a little girl who wants to give up a little part of herself for the good of another child. I love her long hair, and it will be strange once it is short. She misunderstood my hesitation when she first shared her wish with us, and she said, "Mommy, Vivian doesn't have any hair, and she's still beautiful." "Oh, honey. It isn't your hair that makes you beautiful. Your hair is very, very pretty, but your heart is what makes you beautiful. Your goodness makes you beautiful." Vivian tries to bite the kids' toes. If she notices bare feet hanging off the couch, then she'll hurry over and try to sink her teeth into them. She does this while standing up in her Pack-n-Play while I read to Ev and Henry in the glider too. She wants to bite toes. We laugh really hard every time a child narrowly misses the wrath of Vivian. Today we enjoyed playgroup outdoors at a friend's house. The mom has boy-girl twins Henry's age, and this group allows him to play with several other 2-year-old boys. Vivian has two baby boy friends just her age. They've been walking for months. Today she pushed a little cart all over the driveway while using a really wide walking stance. Her short skirt showed off her super fat baby thighs, and the other mamas ooohed and aahed over Vivian's fatness. We had fun. Getting together with a diverse group of intelligent moms in my same life stage is a source of mental health. Give me a fair amount of sleep, some exercise, one cup of coffee in the morning, my amazing husband, some affection, understanding friends, and I can handle this mommy job pretty well. Laughter brightens my days, and I love how it comes in unexpected moments. Today Henry had on...you guessed it, CARS PJs. He slipped out the back door for some reason or another, and when he came back into the house I saw that he had on Olivia's silver ballet flats. He quickly kicked them off before I could capture the moment on film. What a boy!

Perspective

This is Wednesday. The week began with good intentions. I'm reading a new book called God is for Real. It is a story about a young boy who goes to Heaven and back without dying during a surgery. His father wrote it, and I find myself longing for a moment to read it. However, I keep dreaming about Jesus, and I haven't slept well since I began the book on Sunday night. Vivian let out a short cry late in the 4 o'clock hour, and I am now awake. I've really been wanting to write lately, but everything else seems to come first. Monday I planned to get up before the kids, which means in the 5 o'clock hour, to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee and read a short while. I thought I could ease into my week. Well, in the shower at a few minutes past six, I heard Evelyn enter my bathroom frantic about having not completed her Z homework while I was at bookclub the prior evening. I told her we had time. I thanked her for being responsible about her HW. It then took a lot of patience to not get mad when it became clear that she had entered the nursery searching for me in the dark, and she woke up both the baby and her brother. Vivian rolls with everything, but Henry was tired and NOT happy. He would not go back to sleep, and he was up and cranky. The lack of Z words in various magazines and catalogs led to more crying and whining in the Evelyn department, and Monday morning was rough. I think God knows what he is doing. Olivia, usually my child who is hardest to start come sun up, was awakened too, but she moved through our routines flawlessly. We went to MOPS, and I pulled out a devotional book, Jesus Calling, as I parked the van. The words resonated on April 11th, and made me laugh. "This is the day that I have made. Rejoice and be glad in it. Begin the day with open hands of faith, ready to receive all that I am pouring into this brief portion of your life. Be careful not to complain about anything, even the weather, since I am the Author of your circumstances. The best way to handle unwanted situations is to thank Me for them," and on it went. I thought the message was amazing. During our meeting, a speaker added perspective to my day. She pointed out that although we may feel in the trenches and drained to the last drop sometimes with our little children right now, that if we live past 60, then we will spend only 1/3 of our lives in active mothering. What? I feel like I will never know a day when there isn't a dirty bottom that needs tending. Perspective is a powerful thing. Little Henry can be so incredibly sweet. He developed a 101+ fever yesterday afternoon when Robbie had to stay at the office late. After his bath, which my stinky son really needed, he exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, Mommy!! Thank you so much for washing my CARS PJs for me! I love them. I love you, Mommy." He thanks me often for washing his favorite clothing articles. I responded with appreciation and said, "Henry, you are the only person in our family who thanks me for doing laundry. You are such a good boy." He charmingly came back with, "You are such a good mommy." I asked him if he will please thank his wife someday when (and if) she does his laundry. Yesterday Henry returned from the restroom and started fidgeting with his underpants. I asked him if something was wrong, he nodded, and I helped him pull down his pants and undies to loosen the area down there. I told him that if his penis or testicles, the little balls under his penis, ever hurt to please tell Mommy so I may help him. My guy said to me, "Those balls were SO hurting." Evelyn then said, "Mom, do I have balls?" "No, honey." Man, they are funny. Henry has also notices my breasts as I nurse Vivian, and he'll say, "Are those your privacies?" I had to tell him that he couldn't touch them, because my breasts are private. He respects my wishes, but he asks about privacy a lot. He also kicks his sisters out of the bathroom requesting his privacy too. Vivian pushes her little baby doll stroller walker all over the house like a big shot. She's so happy and lovely. She's been crying and reaching for her daddy as he leaves for work, which warms my heart. Robbie just worked out and needs the computer, so I'm off. I hope to share more soon.