Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Just An Average Tuesday Night

It's Tuesday evening.

Parents are sitting with their back against the wall half smiling and occasionally giving a thumbs up. They are still tired from the Monday hangover or 9+ hours at the office, but they are here at Ninjanastics trying to be good parents. A mom chases her toddler off the mat and out the door while the big brother stares in disbelief.

She's ruining his limelight AGAIN. A tired dad claps enthusiastically.

"You got it buddy, keep going."

Unlike soccer or basketball or baseball, Ninjanastics is for boys only which gives me a bit of a sucker punch to my gut. Why is anything still for boys only? I think of all the little girls Jack's age who would love this opportunity to climb an obstacle course, punch the air and stand on HER hands. I'm also secretly afraid Jack will break his arm and this $110 investment will multiple. 

There are all kinds of parents in this room:

The Disengaged-hard to classify because they are clearly committed to showing up to Ninjanastics on a Tuesday, but they have a mobile device glued and glance up a few times.

The Scatterbrained-aren't we all at this point in our lives?

The Overengaged- every move, every jump, every landing, the cheerleading squad awaits.

The Sensitive-Teachers should watch their step because this parent is ready to pounce.

The Perfect Child Parent-No description needed.

The Cool Parent-Trendy clothing, hipster glasses and a little too cool to have kids or be at Ninjanastics.

The Can't Relax Parent-Too much to do, never enough time.

And Me-Not sure where I fall on this random Tuesday. Probably half between Overengaged and scatterbrained.

"Final run," the teacher shouts. An extra burst of all boy energy shoots through the room.

THE FINAL RUN. The boys sweetly run to the teacher to slap a sticker on their hands. Jack runs over to us beaming and again I'm reminded the hustle home from work, the snacks shoved in his mouth, the frantic maybe dirty tshirt tossed on, it's all worth it to see his pure joy beaming from his pure face.

Another Ninjanastics in the books.

Monday, June 26, 2017

5 Things I Can't Live Without This Summer

1. 5 Ingredient "Ice Cream"-If I could I'd eat ice cream every day of the summer I would, but this recipe keeps me fitting in my pants.
  • Half a banana
  • Small handful of frozen organic strawberries
  • Small handful of frozen organic mangos
  • Honey
  • Liquid-a small splash of milk, orange juice or water. Don't overdue it here or you'll have a smoothie.
Blend until creamy. SO GOOD.

2. Books- hold em, hug em, snuggle outside watch the fireflies and love em books.

Currently reading: Eleanor & Park. Can't. Put. It Down. It's a book about two misfits falling in love on the school bus.

Close summer second: What Alice Forgot. Painful story about a woman with Alzheimer's.

Also, When Breath Becomes Air  (a quick read about a doctor with cancer), The Secret Life of Henrietta Lacks (Another fascinating cancer read. More technical) and The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto (Same guy who wrote Tuesdays with Morrie. Enough said).

3. Yoga Mat-Sanity.

4. Burley Bee Bike Trailer- Our favorite Saturdays start at the Farmers Market and then a 7 mile ride to the coolest lazy river water park ever. Earning relaxation feels more relaxing. This trailer is $299, but I had 2 45 pound kids in it yesterday and it handled like a champ.

5. Paddle Board- I've had a lot of kayak versus board debates lately and I'm always pro board mainly because it's easy to strap it to the top of a car with two ratchet straps and I like having all options: stand, sit, lay, meditate, exercise, float, yogi. Plus, after college I dreamed of living on the ocean and surfing and then I became afraid of sharks...so I suppose I'm living the dream without the sharks and waves.    

Saturday, June 3, 2017

You Are My Only

This feels significant.

All of your firsts are lasts.

All of your lasts are lasts.

All of the moments they speak of are the most rawest truest purest form of significant. There is no one else tugging at my pants, stealing my attention, begging for more of me. I am all in with you. And I like that.

It's you. Your dad. And me. Every good moment and bad. It's us. As you hopped around the backyard tonight stealing lightning bugs from the sky and teaching us facts about them, it hit me in that space below the heart but above the stomach where feelings are felt in the most spiritual sense. The space where truth lies. It hit me there.

You are my only.

You define motherhood singularly. That tilted head look from a stranger today with the..."You'd better hurry up and have another" or the "don't you want another one?" Those questions are insignificant compared to the overwhelming feeling of joy, vulnerability, happiness and laughter you have provided me.

You are my only and I promise to give you everything intangible within me. It won't always be perfect for everyone, but it sure will be perfect for us.

You are my only.

And I love it.