Six of One, Half a Dozen of Another

That's how I feel about the past 12 years. Today is T's birthday, and the last 12 years have past almost too fast, but not quick enough at the same time. Yet, 12 years have passed. I could have been a bad parent, a so-so parent, or a good parent. 12 years passed no matter what kind of parent I decided to be when my first child was born.

T & I at his 2nd birthday party

12 years ago, I was a 21 year-old young woman, less than two years away from getting my Bachelor's degree. Four days prior, I finished one part-time job and took official leave from my full time job. The semester was over, and even though I knew I was taking the summer semesters off, I knew nothing of what my future had in store except there would always be someone who called me "Mommy". I only knew time would pass no matter what type of decisions I made for myself and my child.

I could have decided to not finish my degree, not worked hard to do my part to support our new family, not put everything I was into being a damn good mother. HAve I always been the best mother? No. Could I have done some things better? Probably. But I look at T and I see me...really, we are so similar in both looks and especially, personalities. I pray every day he sees the same similarities and has high hopes for his future.

T getting his red belt 05/19/12

I pray in 12 years he will look back and say my mom was the best mom I could have had. I pray he says, "She gave me the example I needed in all areas of my life." I pray he says, "She had strength, compassion, and even (oh, I really hope) grace under pressure." I pray when he looks forward in his life he uses my life as a pathway for his own dreams.

Finally, I pray when his first child is 12, he provides the same example I have tried to provide for him, sets pathways for his child's dreams. I pray he finds his own strength and courage in an easier way than I have, and he develops an undying compassion for his fellow man so he may pass those on to his family.

Yes, 12 years have passed. They were hard years, but good years because no matter what, T led me on my path to find the dreams I never knew I wanted.

T

Three Things: Chicking, Balls, and Boys

It's been a fantastic week. Geared up with training for both soccer season and racing again, the jock in me is beyond elated.

1. Chicking: Trying to accustom myself to the heat and to regular running again, I went out for a run on Tuesday night. At 8:30. It was still 100°. The run was great! Slight breeze, sun setting, sprinklers, good music, you name it. Not too long of a run, 2.34 miles, but the best part of it, I ran half of it in just my sports bra. I normally don't do that, but it was way too hot to care about silly things like looks. Guys are so lucky. They get to run shirtless and feel the wind. No wonder I look like a dead horse when I get in from a run...I have to wear extra layers! Besides, I got an extra confidence boost when I chicked two twenty-year-old guys and they did a double take!

2. Balls: Last week, I kicked the crap out of my soccer ball. Really, shooting practice punctured my ball somehow and again I was on the ball hunt. Got an awesome ball...

yet it was aired too much. Geez, it was hard on the feet last night, like bruising through my cleat hard. Balls sometimes suck.

3. Boys: This is non-sports-related, but I finished registering my boys for this upcoming school year (they start in about a week). The Cy-guy is all set for the second year of Pre-K. Everything is copacetic with him. Same school, same teacher, even most of the same classmates, just maybe a different time. T, on the other hand, is starting middle school. Yesterday at registration, I nearly had the "omg, my boy is not old enough for this" panic attack...especially after seeing the 8th grade cheerleaders in their uniforms (short skirts) and the other little girls in their little spaghetti strap tanks and super short skirts and shorts. I'm standing in all these lines and filling out paperwork internally freaking out not only about this big grade level change, but now about the "girl factor". Oye. Looks like I planned my marathon training just in time.