Just Like My Heart

Last year...actually exactly one year ago...I decided to sign Lexi up for a dance class at the YMCA. She loved the idea of ballerinas and seemed interested in the idea. So, I signed her up, bought her a new "lilytard", shiny black tap shoes, and darling little ballet slippers. We were the first ones there on the first day of class, and we both sat waiting for the rest of the class to arrive. One by one little princesses arrived with lovely pink leotards, tutus, fancy bows in their hair and excitedly ran into the studio. Lexi immediately clung to my leg and refused to let me leave her. The teacher allowed me to go into the class with her, but once inside she still refused to take even one step away from me, and buried her head in my chest. I sat with her in the corner while we watched the other children dance around in a circle to some of her favorite songs...she still wouldn't budge. Then each child was given a beautiful scarf to dance with...Lexi would still not get up. I wanted her to get up and dance so badly. I knew that if she would just do it then she would realize how much fun it could be. I continued to try to coax her into the fun until the teacher instructed the children to sit in a line along the mirror. One by one she had each child stand up and skip in a circle around the studio. At that moment I sat quietly, with Lexi on my lap, and held back tears because I knew that she could not skip...and what was worse...I knew that SHE knew that she could not skip, and that would be the end of any chance that she would participate in that class.
That day broke my heart. I have tried for years to not let Lexi's "gross motor delays" (or whatever PC term you want to use) get in the way of her doing whatever she wants - or whatever her friends are doing. I always encourage her to try things, even when I know she is not YET able to do them. But even after she went on to very happily join another dance class and have a blast there, that moment of that day continued to stick with me. Since then whenever the topic of skipping would come up she would end it immediately with "I can't skip." and refuse to try. I knew her teachers were working on it in school, so I tried not to bring it up at home.
Then, last week we were joyfully heading to swimming lessons (which is a whole other blog post entirely!!), and I looked down and noticed that my daughter was skipping. SKIPPING!!! Like...really well! I said, "Lexi! Are you skipping??" She replied proudly, "Yes." I said, "Who taught you that??" She said, "Josephine. She was skipping in the gym and I just watched her and then did what she did." I was so excited that I almost joined her in the skipping...right back into the building that we had both left one year earlier feeling so deflated. She was SO proud of herself, and I am SO proud of her. It was a tough skill for her to master, but she took her time, figured it out, and now she can just do it...like she's always been able to.
That's just how it is with kids I guess. It happens all the time. They can't do something...some skill that you think, "They are NEVER going to get this" and then one day, they're just doing it like it's nothing. But it just never ceases to amaze me. When I see my kids learn a new skill, especially one that they have worked so hard to master, and struggled with for so long it makes my heart sing...or skip.

The Funny Things They Say...

Currently it's Lexi who comes out with the laugh out loud statements that translate well into writing. Zach makes me laugh a million times a day, but it's usually because of how simply adorable it sounds when he's saying a new word, or any of the words that he's said over and over... It's the same way that I could just sit there and stare at him eating, because there is something so darn cute about my baby eating.

But here are a few of the translatable funnies that we've heard over the last few weeks:

One Sunday, Ahren had the opportunity to go to the Patriots game. When I mentioned it to Lexi she seemed excited to see him on tv. Around 3:30 I turned it on, only to check the score and see if he'd be coming home soon. While I was trying to figure out how it was going (they were listing other game's scores, rather than the Pat's) Lexi was saying, "Mama, what number is he?" "Three" I muttered...looking at a score of a game in the third quarter. "Oh, three? Well, that's not him. Mama, is he wearing a helmet?" "Who??" I asked. "Daddy!" She replied. She was pretty disappointed when I explained that Daddy had gone only to watch the game...not play.

The not funny part of this story is that Lexi was having a huge tantrum during dinner...something that's been becoming increasingly common in our house. I'm not a fan. On this particular night she had tossed her fork and napkin on the floor in a fit of drama queen, and when she bent down to get them, she bonked her head on the table. She screamed and turned to me with fire in her eyes while spewing, "I AM REALLY MAD AT YOU FOR BUYING A WOOD TABLE!!!" At least she is communicating her feelings...

A cute Zachy one - He had been sick during the night so when he wanted to sleep in it was fine by me. When he finally woke up around 9:30 I picked him up and carried him downstairs. He asked me if Gigi was here and I told him that no, Gigi was at work. He asked why and I said because it's very late, and told him he slept the morning away. His reply? "Whoooops!"

On our way home one night, Ahren, the kids and I were driving on a very windy road. The moon appeared to be moving from one side of the car to another, and both kids were having fun pointing out it's location. Ultimately we got on the highway, and the moon stayed put on Zachary's side of the car. After a few minutes of her looking for it, I eventually had to tell Lexi that the moon would probably not make its way back to her side during this ride. She was not pleased. A few minutes later Zachary tried to get her attention, "Tachi? Tachi? Tachi?" When she didn't respond I pointed out to her that he was calling her. She replied, "I'm not talking to him because it's not fair that he gets the moon on his side of the car for the whole ride home."

One day Lexi and Gigi were shopping, and they had wandered over to the jewelry section of Kohl's. Lexi suggested a necklace for Gigi and Gigi said, "No. I think that one is a little too gaudy for me." There was a long pause before Lexi said, "It doesn't look like God to me, Gigi!"

Recently I ran into a store, leaving Ahren and the kids in the car in order to speed up the process. When I got back in the car I said to Ahren, "I just got a REALLY good deal! The was 'buy one, get one FREE!'" From the backseat I heard Zachary say with a totally astonished tone, "No Way!!"

On our way to a farm in Connecticut for Cassie's birthday, Lexi and I drove around a corner and suddenly faced a large hill covered in brightly colored fall trees. Lexi gasped from the back seat and said, "Mom, look at that hill!! It's the most beautiful hill I've ever seen!"

I have so much fun chatting with my kids. They're like my own in-home comedians.

Encouragement

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat." ~Theodore Roosevelt

34 years ago I was one month away from turning one, and my sister was almost 4 years old. My mom and dad heard of a new race in Boston called the Bonnie Bell Mini Marathon 10K and my dad encouraged my mom to enter and run. Today this type of story is commonplace, but 34 years ago women had literally just been allowed to enter and run road races and most women had not yet built up the courage to do so. But my mom is a pretty strong willed woman, and she is lucky to be married to a very loving and encouraging husband so off to the race she went. She was probably nervous, and there's no doubt in my mind that she wondered if she could do it, but she did. She did it 34 years ago, and has continued to do it ever since...every year...never missing one.

Yesterday we all hopped into the car to head into Boston for mom's 34th Tufts 10k, and my 15th. It’s my mom’s Glory Day every year, but this year I was unusually focused on what I was going to do. I was feeling strong and had a lofty goal in mind. I told everyone that my goal was to run under 9 minute miles, but only Ahren knew that my real goal was to hit closer to 8:30s – my track “10K pace”. I was nervous, and I wasn't sure I could do it, but Ahren encouraged me on the ride down, and my dad texted with me back and forth before the race, reminding me that sometimes I'm stronger than I think I am. The race started on the usual busy street full of excited mothers, daughters, and grandmothers, and mom hugged me with an energy that oozed pride for her daughter, returned by mine with the same feelings for my mom. The gun went off and away we went, winding the same roads we had run along so many times before. My first mile was filled with doubt - would I be able to get through this huge pack of people? Would my sore feet and ankles loosen up eventually? Would my stomach hold out? Would my hip fall apart mid race? But as I ran along, Ali chatting by my side, I felt nothing but good. First mile was 9:10, but we were held back by the crowd. Ali said goodbye after the first water station and I was on my own.

Mile two came in at 8:25 and I was feeling good - really good. It was shaping up to be one of those days that everything comes together and as my pace picked up I just kept in mind what Ahren told me on the way in - "If it gets too hard, just slow it down a notch." Mom and I got to whoop at each other as the course turned back on itself just before mile 3 but after that I chose to ignore the women passing by on my left, and focus on the ones I was passing on my right.

Mile 3 clocked in at 8:18…faster still. As I continued to weave my way through the crowd I began to reflect on how lucky I was that my parents chose this path for themselves, and for me. A path filled with challenges that we set for ourselves, sometimes failing, but never regretting the effort. Throughout my entire life my parents have encouraged me to try new things, harder things, uncomfortable things, and have always been there to cheer me on. Over the years I’ve realized that sometimes knowing that someone else believes in you, is enough to erase the doubt you have in yourself. Sometimes when things get tough, all I hang on to is the fact that mom, dad, Ahren, my coaches or my kids think I can do it, so they must be right.

As I hit my split at mile 4 and saw 8:13 I gave myself a little cheer, and then started thinking about Lexi and Zach, and how lucky they are to have two generations of cheerleaders always on their team, always cheering them on. They probably won’t appreciate it until they are in their 30s, but I hope it will shape their lives and it has shaped mine. Lexi often insists that she is not capable of some activity or skill, and she gets furious with me when I insist that she can do it, and that I have faith in her. I remember feeling the same frustration with my parents – and then setting out to prove them wrong, and only proving myself wrong…again. Lexi does the same thing, and I see the pride in her eyes when it happens. She wants to be mad at me for being right, but her excited energy takes over.

Mile 5 – 8:15, not slowing down, I blame the hairpin turn on the course for the lost 2 seconds…I’ll make it up. As I flew over the Mass Ave bridge I thought of the many times I could remember catching the approving look that my parents would shoot each other over my head when they were proud of me, but they didn’t quite want me to know it just yet. Ahren and I shoot the same look of approval to each other with Lexi and Zach. That look that says, “That’s our kid!!” Over time I would live for that look. And now when I’m feeling really great about something I’m doing, I can’t wait to tell my crew all about it. They believe in me even when I don’t, and I don’t want to let them down. I want Lexi and Zachary to know what that feels like – how it feels to have someone believe in you so much that it gives you the energy you need to complete the task at hand.

As I took one of the final turns of the course I felt like I could run forever, and I just wanted to go faster. I passed a mother running with her young daughter and teared up a bit. I’ve been the daughter of the team for 15 years and counting, and I know it won’t be long before Lexi is out there with us – the idea of three generations on that course gave me even more energy and I blasted by mile 6 at 8:03. I turned the last corner and felt like I was flying toward the finish line. The crowds were cheering and I felt like I was going to explode with joy. I almost leaped across the line, but I controlled myself so that I could get my high-five from Joanie. 52:07 – 8:24 average pace. I rocked it. It was not my fastest 10K, but it was more than I imaged I could have done at this point. No one else was surprised – my mom, dad, Ahren, Ali, my coaches – they all knew I could do it. I did it on my own two legs, but I didn’t do it alone. It felt great, and I am so, so grateful that my mom took that ride into Boston 34 years ago.