My Birthday (aka "An October Family Holiday")

DISCLAIMER: Derek despises all these pictures of himself and requests that I make it clear that any and all goofy faces were intended as a joke. He does not actually consider himself GQ when we eat out as a family.


I love my birthday, even if was the big 3-0 this year. Because it's a family holiday around here! We play all day and the kids look forward to it as much as I do. This year we had a 9 am soccer game to kick things off, followed by a fabulous birthday run with Derek on the trails behind our house. It was so refreshing to run outside, talk together and feel strong on my birthday. It was the best part of the day, hands down. Somehow the endorphins from the run overshadowed my normal mother thoughts because we forgot to give the kids lunch. Oops! That's important because it contributes to the rest of the afternoon.

Early afternoon we headed up to my favorite pumpkin patch near our old stomping grounds up in the more affluent Eastside. Wowee. It was CROWDED and I'll tell you, what - one of these Dodge Grand Caravans just didn't belong in the sea of European vehicles. But that's okay. We can pay for overpriced pumpkins with the best of them.

But it was cold and windy and our kids were starving (from that skipped meal - oops again). So first off, I tried to buy overpriced chips. The line was so slow, the card machine was broken, I gave up and we had to wait. We did the hay maze upstairs, which was more fun in years past without a dozen adults clogging the entrance and at least that many little people clogging the maze. Then we got our turn on the hayride out to the pumpkins.



It was pulled by a tractor and soon enough, we joined the crowds in the trampled field. Somehow I hadn't remembered so many PEOPLE last time. It really loses it's charm when it has the same feel as a long line at Wal-mart. Well, not Wal-mart exactly. More like Trader Joe's or REI with this crowd. But imagine an interminable line at Wal-mart in one of those stores. Just one shot of all the people, but what a beautiful day! No wonder everyone wanted to be at the pumpkin patch.

Anyway, we found a couple pumpkins.

(Lydia took this one for us!)

We weighed the bumpy lumpy orange prizes and I finally bought the overpriced chips we'd been hoping for. They were stale, probably from being on that shelf in the barn for several years. But stale chips are better than no chips on a day like this. The only other food choices were organic veggies in a very raw state and ice cream bars, which would've been insanity. I doled out chips, Derek went for the van and the kids played on the old tractors. It would've been more fun if they weren't cold and hungry and tired at this point.


All this pumpkin patch fun made us good and ready for dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. Yum!

After recharging with a tasty meal at a favorite place, we headed to the mall where the child torture could resume. It was a frustrating attempt to find new jeans. Derek sat on the benches outside each store so I could zip in with only one in a stroller at a time. I was as frazzled as anyone by the end, though, since I left pretty much empty handed. Such a disappointment. We barely made it home without kids falling asleep in the car to eat my Baskin Robbins ice cream for a treat. Whew! What a long day. Happy birthday to me! One year older and wiser, too. Because next year I won't forget to feed the monkeys before taking them on a the birthday marathon.

Running

The kids are finally in bed, I'm aching for my fleece pjs, some fiction and my side of the bed. I don't want to run tonight. It sounds terrible, sweaty and exhausting after a long Mommy day. And then I'd need to shower and I hate going to bed with wet hair. Still, I cave to Derek's offer to let me run first tonight. I was hoping to procrastinate. Grumbling, I find my clothes and shoes and remind myself that my evenings are packed this week, it'll be days before I even have the option to run again. Step after endless step on the treadmill, I wonder (for the millionth time) about the brand of drywall printed on the garage wall. I study the cup hooks and extension cords hung there. I look at my 30 mile goal for the month, 30 miles for every year I've been alive. It's more than half filled. I thank the treadmill for not stopping, curse it for never slowing down. Running is a terrible thing. Sometimes it takes nearly 2 miles for me to get over the fact that I'm out of breath and sweating and that's OKAY! In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the point. I remind myself that I don't hurt. My side ache is gone, my lungs are filling easily with air, my legs are only tired - not in pain. There is no reason to stop. I look at the 30 mile chart and push myself to go beyond what I've done before. I remember how wonderful it feels to run long and hard, to find that perfect moment when exhaustion changes to exhilaration. Tonight I'm going for faster than I've run before, not longer. I'm my own worst competition, never satisfied. I wish I could run to General Conference talks, books on tape, quiet meditative music. But I depend on a strong beat, turning up the volume to overpower the thoughts of stopping, the doubt that I can do something so hard. I think of Derek, running beside me on Saturday on my glorious birthday girl run. He told me I was strong and I believed him then, I should believe it now. I think of my heart, pumping stronger with every step. I try not to look at the time, the distance I've come and calculate how slowly the time is passing. Because the whole point is that I'm doing it, not with grace or speed or records, but with determination. I think I might even learn to like running someday.