A Treadmill Tale

Almost immediately once Ezra was born, I was eager to get back on the exercise horse. Baby weight does not magically fall off my body, so I was very ready to put in the work to get my body back to where I was before the pregnancy. I am always so tired of maternity clothes and cannot wait to fit back into my "normal" clothes.

About 4 weeks post-pardem, I squeezed into my exercise clothes. I strapped on my running shoes. I dusted the cobwebs off our neglected treadmill. My goal was to "just run a quick mile". I got on and set the treadmill pace at a familiar number that I used to run at before pregnancy.

Ha. Hahahahaha.

My body laughed at me. Or rather, screamed at me. I grudgingly kept pushing buttons to slow the treadmill's pace. I had barely managed half a mile. My expectations were too great and my pace too fervent. Because I had started off at too fast a pace, I was too spent to complete my mission.

I had hopes to hop back on the treadmill after a casual 9 month break and be able to do what I used to do with ease. Those expectations were unreasonable and, ultimately, unkind to myself.

I had forgotten all of the hard work that I had put in to be able to run at that previous pace. I had forgotten the hours I spent building up my ability to be able to run at the rate and distance that I could before the pregnancy nausea and fatigue set in. I had forgotten that I would probably need to start from scratch.

I tackled the treadmill again a couple of days later. That time, I set the pace at a slower rate with the goal to complete a mile no matter what. It wasn't super easy, but because I was moving at a slower pace, I was able to complete a mile.

My battle with the treadmill reminded me that if I didn't run a mile yesterday (or anytime in the last nine months), it's going to be harder to run a mile today. I can't expect to achieve a goal when I didn't invest the work needed to meet it.

I can't expect where I don't invest. 

One of the main questions I have been asked since Ezra's birth is, "How is it going with three?"

If you had asked me that 1 week, 2 weeks, 5 weeks ago, I would have smiled and said, "It's going much better than I thought!"
And that was true. That was true.

This week has brought a bit of a six-week slump.

I'm tired, I'm stressed, I'm tired of being stressed and tired. And what's more: there is no end in sight. There is no end to the list of things that need to get done. Boys need to be fed and changed and taken care of....daily. Laundry and dishes and toys need to be cleaned and put away....daily. I need to shower....daily. 

When Ezra first joined our family nearly 7 weeks ago, I felt strong right out of the gate. I was eager to prove that I could tackle being a mommy of three and do it well. And I really feel like I did. I remember the feeling as I drove to church for the first time with all three. All three were dressed and changed and happy. Even more, I was dressed and showered and happy. Life was good, man.

But this week something has changed. I feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of the to-do. And I just don't feel like I can. I just can't even.

I realized this morning that, like that first day on the treadmill, I spent these last 6 and a half weeks at a fervent pace. Eager to prove that "I got this", I spent energy that I did not have. I spent my reserve supply, and it has been showing. In my emotions, in my parenting, in my relationships, it's showing.

If there was a slow down button to push on life with three kids, I would be pushing it. Again and again. That's not really an option when it comes to being a mommy, however.

When I run, I hit my stride when I am focused on something other than the fact that I am running. I set a good pace and work on breathing correctly, and then I try to focus on something else completely. A sermon, a song, a problem. Some of my easiest runs have happened because I was trying to work out a problem or bad day in my head. If all I think about is the fact that I'm running and can't wait to be done, I will end my run much sooner than if I'm able to fix my gaze elsewhere.

Focus matters.

So what do I do when I'm overexerted and can't get off the mommy treadmill? Sticking with the running theme, my only option becomes to re-set my pace. Correct my breathing. Fix my focus.

I can slow down and take deep breaths in order to deal with the task before me. But even more importantly, I can fix my gaze onto something greater.

For me, that means fixing my eyes on God through gratitude. I become busy giving thanks and there isn't enough room for the icky stuff to creep in and settle down.

Where I can see my boys' energy as overwhelming, I choose to see it as a reminder that they are healthy and strong.
Where I can see the crumbs on the floor as a never-ending means of visual torture, I choose to see them as a reminder that we have food to feed our family.
Where I can see frustration that my body isn't whipping back into shape like I wish it would, I choose to see the miracle in my arms that it brought forth.

When I do this, I invest in my joy and peace, and can therefore expect to see increased joy and peace throughout my home.

Because I know, I can't expect there to be joy and peace when I haven't done any of the work to invest in it.

A steady pace. A fixed focus. A happy heart.

"God pays no attention to our natural individuality in the development of our spiritual life. His plan runs right through our natural life. We must see to it that we aid and assist God, and not stand against Him by saying, 'I can't do that'. God will not discipline us; we must discipline ourselves. God will not bring our 'arguments...and every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ' (2 Corinthians 10:5) - we have to do it. Don't say, 'Oh, Lord, I suffer from wandering thoughts.' Don't suffer from wandering thoughts. Stop listening to the tyranny of your individual natural life and win freedom into the spiritual life." - Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

'Bout Time, Summer

I love summer! I am done with classes and can take a deep breath and just enjoy these next few months before things get really crazy next fall.

I get to spend all day every day with the sweetest, funniest boy I know.

My bestest friends are almost freed from the bonds of teaching for the summer, hence hangout time - zoos, parks, playdates.

My sister and her boys come in a couple weeks for a glorious month of relentless family bonding - and I mean that in the best possible way.

My husband and I are starting a small group for young adults which I am SO excited about.

Plus, I am actually enjoying running. Today as I rolled out of bed at 7 a.m., I smiled when I saw that the sun was shining and it was a beautiful morning. I kind of couldn't wait to get out there.

So far, I have run 5 days since last Monday. On Saturday, I wasn't planning to run, but I was feeling cranky and just feeling like I needed to blow off some steam. So I ran, faster than I ever had before, in the wind (unprecedented!), and by the time I got home, I felt almost giddy. Mood swings: meet your match. Her name is running and she's a beast.

Today, I am eager to check off one thing off my to-do list. I get to go to the library and dig for new books to read!!

I love libraries. I get tiny little butterflies when I think about going to one - no joke. Ahhhh.....books. Endless supplies of books.

Even as a little girl I loved libraries. My mom would bring Josh and I there on Saturdays and then we would scatter. I would hole up somewhere in the teen fiction - probably right between The Baby-Sitters Club and Sweet Valley books. Literally planted on the floor, I would have piles around me, trying to decided which ones to check out. After all, my mom always gave us a limit of 7.

If I am being embarrassingly honest, I would still wander to that same section as an adult - back when the books were still being written - because I wanted to see what continued to happen to my favorite BSC girls from Stoneybrook. Were they still perpetually 13? Would they ever graduate to high school? How many times exactly could they re-live 8th grade?

So that's my agenda today. And it's fantastic.

Ahhhhhhh, summer.

On an equally sunny summer note, this past Friday was a big day for my husband - a day that he has been waiting a good year for. In many ways, I think he has been waiting most of his life for this day.

It was Avengers day.

As a little boy growing up, Matt devoured comic books and the escapism fantasy that they offered. Even now as a grown man, he can still get lost in the intricate back stories and superpowers of his favorite characters.

So Friday came. Matt had arranged for his mom to come to town and sit with Finn so that we could go together. I got a t-shirt for the occasion.

We got to the movie early and sat about halfway up the stadium seating. After a couple minutes, Matt decided it was a little too close, so we moved back to a more ideal spot in the last, top row.

As the movie time creeped closer, Matt started wringing his hands and shifting in his seat. We both took well planned bathroom breaks. In the couple minutes before, Matt actually began muttering, "Just start!" under his breath.

The next 2 hours and 20 minutes passed in splendid fashion. It was a truly great movie, and that's coming from someone who is still a comic book newbie.

The moral of the story is that my husband is cute. And summer is here! Bask! Enjoy!

The Finish Line

The end of the semester is so close that I can nearly taste it. I am stretching out my fingers so far toward the finish line that sometimes it seems as though time slows down around me. I take my final on Tuesday and in my spare moments have been dreaming of all that I want to do once that finish line is crossed.

I've got a list of books I want to read. 

I want to dominate our family photo album and Finn's baby book. 

I want to start studying for comps - the big test I have to take in the fall to complete my graduate program. 

And I want to start running. 

I have never been much of a runner; the few times I have tried have been pretty pathetic.  

When I was a freshman in high school, one of my favorite teachers was a coach for track. When he recruited me for the team, I joined because I felt honored and I wanted to please him. Plus, the sweats the teammates received were cute. 

I spent those months on the track team attending practices half-heartedly and sitting at meets, anxiously dreading the moment when it was my turn to run. I loathed waiting for the pistol to fire, signaling the start of the race. 

There are other times that I have tried to become a runner since then - each equally disastrous. 

Over and over again, I have heard of "the wall" in that exists with running. It's killer to reach it, but once you break through, there is relief, enjoyment, power. I never cared enough to push past that wall. Until now. 

There are a couple of reasons why the urge is surging in me. 

1. The next couple of semesters of schooling for me are going to be pretty intense. When I focus too much on those looming months, I feel overwhelmed. There are times when I am not sure if I can do it, if I can finish what I started 5 years ago. I am hypothesizing that if I can push myself physically in this way, it will help me see that I am capable of more than I think I am (and that's before I even factor in God's help). In short, I hope it can boost my confidence, prove something to myself about myself.

2. Finn's wake time is typically between 7:30 and 8 a.m. each morning. I figure that I can fairly easily discipline myself to get up at 7 each morning and get out for a run (Matt will still be home if he wakes up before I return). This will jump start our mornings; if I am lucky I can even squeeze my shower in before he wakes up. I see this as being immediately beneficial in providing more energy to our days. I see this as being long term beneficial as well, as once my schedule gets crazier in the fall, it won't be such a shock to my system.

There are my reasons. This blog is my accountability. Now I just have to do it. Eeeek.