The Day in a Life of a Mother

Today started out like any atypical day. I went for a run, since my normal Saturday run was not possible. As I ran the same path I normally due I looked over to my right and running slightly ahead of me across the corn field there was a fox running, too. (Okay, it is strangely bizarre that there is a corn field just outside of my neighborhood - because, yes, I live in a standard suburban development.)

Then just a quarter of a mile farther down the road ... I saw a family of quails. My first thought was that the fox must have detoured before finding the quail. (Not sure if I felt sorry for the fox or grateful for the quail.) I guess I was most grateful for the fact that all the animals kept their distance and I could just keep on going. Many of my friends were running much greater lengths today at the Twin Cities 10 Mile and Twin Cities Marathon, so my short half-hour jaunt was really nothing. But anything to get healthy is better than doing nothing.

...

In the afternoon, I decided to take the boys to this event called Storywalk. It is a joint event sponsored by the local library and park systems. It seemed like a fairly low key thing to do ... and it would give D some solo time to enjoy his football games.

We arrived at the park, and K did a superb job reading the story to me and Oliver. The boys enjoyed running along the path and loved the illustrations:

It was a nice picture book - and there was some great activity to get the kids to "live" some of the story. They also had a few activities down at the pavilion, including creating your own leaf and body poetry (also known as yoga - K did pretty good ... and so I told him he really needs to do yoga with me from now on.)
Here was horror moment number one: O threw a tantrum the size of Mount Vesuvius - it was ridiculous. If I hadn't had him by the shoulders, he would have thrown his head against the cement flooring of the pavilion. He screamed as a two-year-old does and so I had to put him back in the stroller and try to calm him down. (The reason for the tantrum, he wanted to make two leaves, not just the one he was allowed.)

After the activities, I let the boys play on the playground. It was a small playground, but just the right size that I didn't worry about O performing death-defying acts. K kept asking me if there was an older kids playground, so clearly he's starting to overcome his own fears of heights and slides.

We then decided to talk a stroll on the walking path around the park. It was a nice walk around the lake. There was a cute little bridge we walked over. And I enjoyed chatting with K. We got to the end of the walkway and then K started to run ahead. He was doing a pretty good jog (and now he never has an excuse for not keeping up while running at school or in sports, because I've seen proof he's a good runner today.) But he kept running farther and farther ahead of me. I yelled at him to wait, and he'd get to a bench and sit down and wait for us to catch up.

Horror moment number two:  He didn't want to keep waiting for long. So, the next time he started running, he got so far ahead of me I could barely see him. When we got back to the clearing, I saw him and yelled at him, but he kept running. As I ran (pushing a non-jogging stroller) to catch up, he turned around (I never saw him turn around) but then I turned around and saw him. It was eery, like a dream when you are trying to find someone and they appear in the distance too far away. Well ... he then went back down the path, but I couldn't see him. I became frantic and yelled his name. One of the ladies who had helped me before realized I was looking for him and one of the other helpers also tried to help me look for him.

I appreciated their help, but their fast pace just wasn't enough ... so then I ran like Usain Bolt down the pathway ... and I finally caught up to K. He knew he had done something wrong ... and he told me he was just trying to find a place to rest. I had to explain to him that he had three people looking for him. We got back to the other ladies and the younger one said to me, "Man, you run fast." I didn't want to tell her that it was the adrenaline surge because I thought my son was gone. I thanked them. Then K and I proceeded to continue to have a long chat about the danger of the situation.

While I think he understands why it was not a good day for mommy, I know that it doesn't mean it won't happen again. And goodness knows, this old body can't handle two runs in one day.