Friday Night Dates.

For no reason in particular, our family has recently been developing a pattern of going on "family dates" every Friday night. I think it initially started because I have a strong moral opposition to doing any cooking on Fridays, and has become amplified by a strong desire to unwind after a week of craziness.

I'd like to say this was a plan, or family goal...but, no...it has just happened. I'm not anywhere close to being "with it" enough to have family goals.

Earlier this week Blair forwarded an email to me mentioning that the MLS cup was making a stop in Bountiful. We decided to take the kids to see it (considering we have had no other kind of experience with a championship team in Utah), and thought it might be a good opportunity to document that we try to do fun and cheap things on occasion with our kids.

We brought Emily, one of Ab's Bff's from school, and her very cute 5th Grade brother Zac.

(Whom for future note...Ab tried her hardest to impress ALL NIGHT LONG. Because you know, 5th grade boys totally love knock knock jokes and Miley Cyrus. In his defense, he was extremely kind and a great sport.

PPS...don't tell Ab I've mentioned this or you'll be killed.)

We came home and attempted to relocate our brains to a warm and sunny climate by eating tacos, guacamole, and chips...and drinking smoothies.

And, yes...I broke my rule about cooking...
But, only because I really wanted to pretend I was on a beach in Mexico.
I seem to re-create this night once a year for my kids...when Winter has just lasted a tad longer than my psyche can take.


You can see, Ab was really into the spirit of things...
Either that, or she really wanted to show off her swimsuit and sock combo for her friend's brother:) I love her innocence.

Crap.

Not really Crap...
only kind-of.
You see, Deak is now crawling for real.
In fact, we had to cave and put up a gate this weekend.

In the past week or two...
*He has crawled over to and attempted to drink my diet coke. Which is a big problem. The last time this kid had coke, he was up and partying hard until 1 in the morning. (A certain rap song comes to mind..."and the b@*!! ain't leavin 'till six in the mornin'...or maybe that's just me).
*He has crawled over to and stolen my fritos, and I really like Fritos.
*He has crawled over to and chewed on a VCR cord (unplugged at least...not that the hair this boy has would cause you to think otherwise) for who knows how long while I showered.
*He has crawled across my bedroom into the bathroom where I get ready in the mornings and literally screamed at me with a disgusted look...only to crawl back across the room, take a seat in front of the TV and finish watching his show. (I assume he was pissed I turned on the blow dryer and he couldn't hear Gabba anymore.)
And the worst...
*Now...he crawls to my bedside and yells at me to wake up.
"AHHHH!"
Gone are the days of 6am wake up calls postponed by a few Gabba episodes and a stationary child.
I really, really, love the crawling...in fact, I'll admit that a day has not gone by that I haven't still felt my eyes well up just thinking of it.

But mobility has decreased my ability to be lazy.
Hence...."Crap."

Happy Thoughts.

I had to do something last night that was pretty terrifying for me.

It was one of those times I actually had to put to practice some of the techniques I whole-heartily believe in and teach to cute little bodies in my schools.

I had to breath deeply and consciously choose to think of things that would bring me happiness.

I had to do it for forty-five minutes.

Which, is a really long time...when you really want something to be over.

It was funny that during this situation, my thoughts permeated around the very same people my life tends to revolve around...

Thought #1

This face.

Abby took first place out of eight competitive cheer teams in her division this past Saturday.

Her first, First Place...ever.

The feeling I felt as she and her team won, was better than any feeling I have ever experienced winning in my life.

It was better because it was her.

She is becoming one of my closest friends, and I am content to live watching her grow and learn and experience all these crazy emotions life throws at us.

I was so proud.

Thought #2

This face.

I am still not over Deak crawling. I simply cannot get enough of watching it. As we sat and watched the Superbowl with family on Sunday, I enticed him to crawl to me across the entire room with a Texas Sheetcake brownie.

Boy...did that kid move.

(Not saying I wouldn't do the same.)

And, then he ate and clapped for himself for quite a while.

I was so proud.

I find it quite ironic that although I've desperately needed an outlet for myself (which I've found with running), when my priorities settle and I am forced to compete within my thoughts for happiness...they win.

My family takes the cake. They are my happy place. All three of them.

I would give up anything in this world to keep it that way forever.

"Run Forest, Run."

I could come up with several parallels between different lines of the movie Forest Gump and my life. I survived a couple of junior high years with an ominous "Jeee...ny" making its' daily appearance either directly or indirectly in several conversations. Thank goodness the craze eventually died down and my nickname progressed into becoming "House of Pain" or "Payne." Those were much more tolerable on the teenage ego.

Lately, as I've persistently stuck to my running routine that I began five weeks ago, I've found myself repeating the infamous "Run Forrest, Run" line in my head. Funny...yes...because I am sure if you've seen me on the side of the road barely breathing/moving, I would definitely bare a strong resemblance to Tom Hank's famous character. On a different level, I've realized the persistance this line has had in my brain may show a deeper connection to my most present motivation to run. This motivation is coming from a place I've shoved to the back of the list...and left there...for a long time.

I don't like to fail, or be criticized, or do anything wrong...basically. Not too much to ask, right? To preserve my pride (whatever is left of it) and general anxiety-based nature I generally choose to stick with tasks I can be successful at. I know my strengths, and choose to use them. I can recall doing this as far back as elementary school. I have never been close friends with the idea of taking risks. What a boring life...

Hence...the running program.
During a much-needed conversation with a good friend recently, we were discussing the complacency of the routine we get involved in as mothers. The laundry, dishes, and homework yield high rewards; the problem being that the rewards are not seen immediately. More often than not, for years. Sure, there are daily moments of love and progress, but that intrinsic feeling of worth is not always clearly validated.
We then went on to discuss why running has become, at certain times, so important in our lives. Yes, I would like to drop another ten pounds, develop a stronger core and begin to have something that may resemble muscle definition.

But, this time that is not what is driving me to get on my shoes and go.

It is the progress I'm seeing very clearly and visibly as I monitor it on the little screen in front of my treadmill. It is the sleep I've been getting, and the breathing that has felt deeper and richer than it has in years. It is the internal gratification of seeing a goal become closer to reality. It is the endorphin rush that my brain and heart have needed for some time. Quite frankly, it is the money I am probably saving in weekly therapy.
The activity and the reward are connected to ME, and I am in complete control of the results. Not my cute kids or family or friends. ME.

I ran two miles without stopping last night for the first time in my entire life. I then walked for a couple minutes and continued to run intervals for another mile, running as fast as an eight minute mile at some points.
Best run so far...
I felt proud, and I slept good.
Some nights I have not been able to put on my shoes and run until 9:30. These are the nights that I would have easily and justifiably rationalized away in my past - but, not anymore. I am learning now, those are the nights I need to run the most.
I may look like Forrest, and I may not go far (yet).
But, I have learned a few things these past three and half years; the most important being that it's okay if things take a little longer...and look a little less than perfect...
the reward is just that much sweeter.