Pretending

I'm back at work today after an awesome, super-fabulous, week off with my minis.  So I'm feeling all sad and weepy and searching for any way to cover my salary so I never have to leave them again.  Probably should be going through the hundreds of emails I have, but get rich quick schemes are way more productive and fun.

Next week Ainsley will be back in school, I'll be back in full swing at work, and the hectic crazy schedule of fall will settle on us and I won't necessarily feel this way.  But last night, I was almost crying as I went to bed.  Knowing that I would close my eyes, and when I opened them it would all be over.  I stayed up way past my bedtime, just prolonging the inevitable.

Last week was great.  We packed a summer full of fun into one week.  So it was busy, but worth it.  Last summer, we had the luxury of being lazy.  With a newborn around sometimes we needed to be lazy and spend the whole day in our PJs.

But not this time.  This time I wanted the week to be filled with smiles and giggles and fun.  Cohen barely napped...we were always on the go.  We hit the zoo, the water park, a concert, a farm, the fountains, Chick-fil-A, the pool, bike riding...and we even found a rainy day to snuggle on the couch and watch a movie with popcorn and candy.

Normally, I am fine with work.  I don't hate it, I don't love it...but I do love getting paid.  I'm okay with my kids being away from me.  Some days I miss them like crazy, others I welcome the break.  I know they are off learning and doing things that I have no business teaching them.  I know they are loved where they are. My kids are well adjusted and independent and bright and a lot of that has to do with daycare and preschool and extra activities.

But I won't lie, coming back to work is always hard and I know that for a few days I'll have this knot in my stomach.  I know that today I'll blow off work and look at their pictures for most of the day.  I'll recall Freddie asking me every day "Mommy, what we gonna do fun today?" And after I told him, he'd say "What else we gonna do fun today?" If you could just hear the way he says "else" you would fall madly in love.  I will remember Cohen dancing at a Rocknocerous concert.  The grin spreading across his face, his bottom bouncing up and down and his hands waving back and forth.  I will think about how big Ainsley is getting.  How kind she is to her brothers.  How she watches out for them.  How she can't wait to be big and grown and all I want to do is stop her.

Most of all, I will look forward to the next time I pretend to be a stay at home mom and spend all my time with the most awesome people I know.

Falling

Time stops and speeds up all in the same moment.

The instant I feel the lift, I know it's coming.  The roar of traffic ends.  The music pumping through my headphones stops.  There is no sound.  The breeze freezes and all is still.  I am the only thing moving in this frozen universe.  I can feel all my weight sail towards the ground.  So many questions pass through my mind as the sidewalk slams into my body.  How is this happening?  How do I fix this?  I'm moving in slow motion, but it happens so fast I am powerless to stop it.

Then the collision and everything returns.  Cars whiz by.  Rihanna wails into my ears.  The wind whips at my shredded knees as I roll over and stare at the moving clouds.

I can't believe I just fell.  I take inventory of my limbs and know that I have skinned knees and burned hands.  And an elbow.  I touch it gingerly.  Ouch.  Yeah, the elbow is bad.

Then I'm shaking, and tears are pushing out of my eyes.  A moment ago I was running.  Halfway done, and now I'm lying here, kicked around by cement, crying and shaking.

I wipe my eyes and stand up, suddenly aware that people probably saw this happen and how stupid I must look.  But no one's around.  Just cars zooming by on their way to wherever.  Everyone too busy and focused on their own road to insert themselves into mine.  Someone was probably talking on the phone and stopped mid-sentence to say "Holy shit, some girl just ate it on the sidewalk."  But he's long gone, traveling 50 mph on his way to begin his day.

I stand there, figuring out what I'm supposed to do next.  My world just crashed and I'm only halfway done. I'm as far from home and a shower and bandages and a hug or kind word as possible.  So I run.  It burns, but I run.  Tears start and stop, but I run.  I'm staring at the ground, careful of every step, but I run.  Because sitting on the sidewalk and crying isn't an option and walking will just take too long.  I run.


That wasn't the first time I fell while running and it's happened since.  I'm sure it will happen again.  Always the same feelings and shock.  Different spots but always the same situation.  It never happens as I'm starting or finishing, always right there in the middle when I have no choice but to push through.  No choice but to keep running.

And after it happens, it always takes me time to trust myself again.  Those next few times out I'm less confident.  Sure that every bump in the sidewalk or break in the asphalt will reach up and pull me down.  My eyes stay glued to the spot in front of me.  I ignore the deer grazing in a yard, or the kids riding their bikes, or the fox eyeballing me from across the street.  I focus only on what I'm doing, one foot in front of the other.  And that sucks.  I might as well be running on a treadmill, going nowhere, staring at the stupid red numbers, waiting for the time to end.

It takes time for me to remember that we all fall down.  It's not always easy to get back up and keep going.  It would be much easier to sit on the corner, blowing on my skinned knees, crying into my red palms.  But we don't, we can't.  There's a lot more ground to cover.  So many more miles to run.  And if we spend those miles focused on not falling, we'll miss all the beauty and life that makes the run worthwhile.

We all fall down.  What matters is if we get back up.