In which my doctor tossed me up over a 15 foot sheer wall.

Yes, yes he did.



I guess if I'm going to be tossed up over a 15 foot retaining wall, it may as well be by the people I trust most to fix me if I get broken — my doctor, and my husband.

For the past four weeks or so I have been training for one of those obstacle course races where you run in mud and get shocked and fall off of planks. And you scale sheer, towering walls. My husband and I were recruited by friends (one of which is our doctor and his wife) to join their team of a dozen or so crazy people who did Tough Mudder last year and decided to do it again. We have until September to get ready for this thing.



Last night, we had our first team training meeting. We plotted a 3 or 4 mile run up the steep hill, through a playground with monkey bars, over walls of various heights, under benches, back down the hill, and out to the lake to practice running while soaked.



I wish I had my camera with me; it was hilarious!! But there was no way I was going to carry any extra weight than needed.

A month ago, I couldn't run a quarter of a mile without stopping and grabbing my knees as I tried to not die. It was, well, pathetic. I haven't exercised since having this fourth child over a year ago. It was time to get back to working out. I started doing the 30 Day Shred, joined a gym, I've run on various surfaces, and I even met with a trainer. I have never run this much before.

I am in pain, guys!!

And I've gained 10 pounds in the last month!! Good thing I'm not in this for the weight loss at this point.

But I'm getting stronger. I've been dreading this training exercise, knowing that I would be one of the weakest members of the team. Somehow, I survived! I even made it up over this wall.



The good doctor and the firefighter formed a base and we climbed on. They then hefted each of us up and the first person over the top (who was tall enough to even REACH the top) pulled us up the rest of the way. Looking at the wall, I really didn't think I could do it. But they were right, it's all a mental game.

You know what I COULDN'T do?

Watch my husband go up the wall. I was too anxious about him getting himself hurt! I literally couldn't watch, even though I knew my fears were somewhat irrational. I had to walk away! A hundred worst-case scenarios flipped through my mind, just as they would had it been one of my young children precariously scaling a ledge. We were worn out at this point, and I couldn't stand to watch the pending shaky muscle catastrophe.

Apparently he made it too, as he showed up by my side a few minutes later. Our group ran back down the hill, making jokes and doing pushups in random places.

My favorite part of the whole thing was returning that evening from the lake. As we ran up to our back yard, our collective children were at the crest of the hill waving and cheering wildly. They were so excited and proud of us!!



We dried off, stretched, and feasted on the patio as the sun set.

It was FUN! I haven't had fun like that in a long time. It felt good to be just a little bit insane!!

One thing I've learned in all of this:

Cement is not forgiving. Not even a little bit.

Ouch.

Why I love hearing about YOUR child's accomplishments.

They're watching us.



I'm constantly amazed by just how much they adore and watch us.

You know how you are sitting at the kitchen table, kids playing happily in the front yard, and your cell phone rings? It doesn't matter if the phone is on vibrate; somehow, your children KNOW you're about to be preoccupied. They WILL track you down. Even when you sneak into the former office turned dining room and close the doors. They just know. And they will take that precise time, that you're trying to listen to the person on the other end of that important phone call, to let you know that the four year old has found — and explored the depths of — a patch of mud in the gutter. And he has tracked the mud inside, smearing it on the walls. While peeing his pants. How do they know when I'm on the phone? I want to know.

Speaking of my four year old, he has developed a sixth sense that alerts him to any time I pick up my car keys.

"But mom, I really, really, really, REALLY want to go with you to the store!"

"Sorry, honey, not this time. Stay with Dad, okay?" Spoken as I release his half-sized hands clasped behind the back of my knee and try to make it to the door.

"Nooooo. I really, really really REALLY want to go with youuuu!"

I'm pretty sure he says "really" more than any other word. He is one earnest kid! It's hard to drive away, watching him in my rear view mirror standing next to my husband and waving a woeful goodbye with tears in his eyes. It's almost as bad as the alternative, the dreaded (and certain) "but Mom, I'm tiiiired. I REALLY want to go home NOW! And I have to go potty."



He watches me, perhaps more than any of the others do. He is the cutest little stalker I know.

All of this is to say, I think my kids recognize, maybe more than I acknowledge, when I am proud of them. They hear me talking to my family and neighbors about their accomplishments. For that reason, and just because I'm enthralled by how much growth these little people accomplish in such a short time, I LOVE hearing about the successes of the children I come in contact with, no matter what they've accomplished. I love hearing it, because I know somewhere there's a little person out there beaming with pride because his mommy cares.

I think those little moments of watching his parents excitedly share his successes with the neighbors add up. And maybe one of those neighbors will stop him and say "I heard you won an award at school! That's wonderful!" Then he'll grow a stockpile of accomplishments and compliments, to help him feel like he's good at something.

In this light, I hope my own children realize how proud I am of them for all of their hard work! The kids finished their school year last week and I couldn't be more happy with all they have accomplished. They are smart and kind — I couldn't ask for more.

"I'm going to be at an appointment in the morning, don't forget to take some pictures of the kids before they go to their last day of school!"











Thanks, honey! Ha! I guess the kids were pretty excited.



My little first grader is an amazing reader, considering that the goal by the end of third grade is to read 107 correct words per minute. He is well on his way.



My daughter did great this year, too!



Their teachers have been wonderful. A big thank you to the teachers that take care of our little people and devote so much time and love to helping them learn! No, really. You rock!!



We've been on summer break for a few days now. It's going okay. There have been lots of "learning to play with each other again" arguments between the older three, but they're hammering the truce out.

I had to laugh — on the very first day of summer break, this is what I found them doing.



Homework!!!!

I love that they enjoy learning so much that they want to finish the workbooks that were sent home from school on the last day.

"You want to go outside? Everyone else is getting ready to go."

"Can I finish this page first?"



That happened!

Releasing the wee little kraken.

My daughter's class had the joy of tending to live crayfish in the classroom. Then my daughter had the joy of me saying "yes" when she asked if she could bring one home for us to keep or release.



I told her she could keep it for a few days, but that we would need to release it.



This week we took her crayfish, affectionately named Lobster, on a walk to release him. We went down to the stream, formerly known as the lake.



Lobster must have been thrilled; he was becoming very tired of the constant show and tell with the neighborhood kids. Too much stress for one little crayfish.



It was a gentle, beautiful evening when we walked to the stream.



The kind of evening where each phase of the setting sun, orange through deep purple, lingers in the sky for a really long time.





The days are getting so long. It's good that this is the last week of school, I'm having trouble getting the kids to go to bed since it's still light outside.



"I hear a plane! A plane!" "Where?"



Kind of hard to believe that the days will start getting shorter again in a month. I actually look forward to the days getting shorter. I know, I'm weird.











Bye, Lobster!



Enjoy your fresh flowing water and lack of poking fingers!





The sunlight was in the peach phase when we left the house, and was still in shades of orange when we returned home. I guess I can allow there to be one good aspect to the extra long hot days.



And if any of my children ask, Lobster lived happily ever after in the stream.