Livin' in a Bubble

Every morning since  Nike Girl could walk, actually run as she has never walked, we would raise her window shade to look outside and see if it could possibly be an outdoor playing day. Her little sister is now following in her shadow. We always say a little Thank you Lord for today and the sun or clouds or wind or rain. I even muster up a thank you for the snow because I know it is the right thing to do. This little morning tradition is expected around our house without fail.

I think the girls are following in my footsteps by becoming little outdoorsy active souls. On weekends, after my early morning long run, the girls are waiting by the front door with bed hair ready to go with me outside and "run" themselves. So back on the trail we head to go over to a neighborhood pond and throw rocks or see tadpoles. The newest adventure is to climb the rocks around the pond's edge and watch the girls spit into the water to make the little perch think it is a bug to eat. Gross but oddly fun and as Converse says....it is free entertainment.

We bike, we skate, we hula hoop, we pogo stick, we hopscotch, we zipline in the backyard, we dance, we climb trees, we swim, we jump on our trampoline for hours, we are a family that does not live in a bubble. Outdoor adventures make us happy. Well they did make us happy. Until this.......

Our first broken bone in our family (besides when I broke my leg in high school chasing a boy and fell down a flight of steps because untied high tops were cool). Oh the guilt......Weebok and Nike Girl were at a birthday party jumpin' and playin' on a trampoline like we do all the time. When "pop"Weebok fell and did not get up. I was inside and Converse had just turned his back for a second. So off we went to the ER. Oh the guilt of letting her jump on the trampoline.... at 2...... Poor baby! Nike Girl and I were quietly shedding tears along side Weebok when she chose "puple" as her cast color. Oh the guilt....did I mention that? And the looks of the nursing staff real or imaginary, probably the latter...saying," Why would a mother let a 2 year old on a large trampoline with older kids then go inside to eat a bag of chips " because that is why I left my sweet baby's side and went in...to indulge in junk food! Oh the guilt.....

We are a few days out. Three weeks left with a waterproof cast. The best possible fracture scenario.We have continued swimming per doctor's advice. The looks I see from under my sunglasses are funny really as the other mom's look from afar like I have a big red light above my head flashing...irresponsible! Ok, maybe a little dramatic. But I did have two fellow mother's say, " Well, I would never let my children on a trampoline, they are dangerous." Thank you for your opinion and sharing it with a complete stranger whom has cried every night with mommy guilt!

Bottom line is...as Converse and Weebok are sitting on a park bench, his arm in a cast and sling (previous post Wonderboy) and she is sporting a "puple" cast that we do not live in a bubble and never will. We will continue to be calculated risk takers because life is a lot of fun when you are challenging yourself to move and play. We will just be a little more careful when we chase bubbles.

Peace.
The "New Balance" Girl

Running Report: Running almost daily in the early am which has done my soul good. The weather has made for some great outdoor playing days! I have been watching these 4 little geese grow by a pond near our house. The momma and dada geese are very protective and honk at me each morning. It makes me laugh out loud. I ponder if they will live in a bubble or let their little ones fly solo one day? Have a great day!

Summer Sailing

           Aren't spontaneous "get-togethers" with friends on a clear summer evening fun? 

                      Even more fun when they bring their little sailboat that could. 

Peace.
The "New Balance" Girl

Wonderboy

It was the bottom of the 9th. Thunder could be heard in the distant sky. You could smell the rain in the air. Bases were loaded with two outs and a full count. The batter's forehead beaded up with sweat. His teammates were yelling banter from the dugout. "C'mon  Hobbs, knock the cover off the ball!" He dug into the ground with his cleats. The crowd roared. He remembered his dad always telling him to get the elbow high and squash the bug with his foot. "Dig in son and hit the ball!" He dared not blink. The ball came in hard and fast and a little to the outside. He rotated his torso and extended his arm with all of his might. Lightning flashed onto the field. The wooden bat made contact as a loud pop was heard.......

Oh how I wish for Converse's sake, this story had a "Rudy" ending. I wish the loud pop had been from the cracking bat. It wasn't. Here is how the story really goes.

It was the bottom of the third. The sun was setting at an angle sure to blind everyone who was up to bat. You could smell Copenhagen from a mile away because none of the player's wives would knowingly let them chew. No one was on base. No one really even made it to base yet. The batter's hamstring was hurting. His teammates were yelling banter from the dugout. ""I told you Hobbs, people don't start playing ball at your age, they retire!" He dug his cleats into the dirt noticing his socks did not match because his wife had folded laundry with two screaming children under foot. The one person in the stands was a newlywed wife of one of the players. She sat quietly while drinking her diet soda probably counting how many games she will have to sit through if she is married for 50 years. She was not smiling. He remembered his dad telling him to" not play like a girl son". He dared not blink but the sun in his eyes made it an impossible task. The softball came in slow and high. He rotated his torso and extended his arm with all of his might.  As he swung the bat a loud pop was heard. Actually a snap, crackle, pop echoed as his bat made contact with the air. His arm fell to his side. It was not pretty. He sat in the dugout for a few moments with a makeshift ice bag and a dangling arm, scared to go home.  His teammates asked him if he was sure he could not play. He called his wife from the dugout to tell her he was contemplating whether or not he should go to the emergency room, the second time this season. His softball career was over. She sighed loudly.

Ruptured bicep tendon. Surgery. Full length arm cast. Vacations postponed. Modified self care skills. These are a few of  Wonderboy's favorite things.

The raw truth hurts the worst. After many years of competitive ball starting with t-ball as a toddler, Little League through grade school, traveling ball as a high schooler followed with a stint in college, his ball career had ended. It ended abruptly on a Monday evening in May when he failed to make contact with a slow pitched softball in a men's recreational "C" league bracket playing the bad news bears.

The way I see it you had a good run, Converse. Never say never. Healthcare flexible spending account starts fresh after the first of the year.

Peace,
The "New Balance" Girl


Running Report: With humor aside, I am so thankful Converse will heal up in no time. I think he will play again as he loves the sport. Just like I have been loving my early morning runs. I am so thankful to be able to get out in the morning air and clear my mind. I have been running 4-6 miles at least 3 days a week and then run a longer run on the weekends. That seems to keep me occupied for the time being. I still dream of Boston which will be my "Rudy" moment.  A fall marathon is sounding like the plan.