One rainy day
I went for a run today with only one child and our single stroller. Maren was over at Pip’s house, and — as much as I love my five-year-old — it was fantastic to not push her forty-four pounds plus the extra weight of the double stroller. I am happy with my running: the shin splints, stress fractures, and knee pain that have plagued me over the past five years are not bothering me this year. I find this weird and ironic, but I am happy about it. I am listening to some new music I downloaded thanks to your recommendations, and it is much more fun! (Thank you!) I still have a lot of recommendations I haven’t even gotten to yet, so I am waiting for some down time (haha) to get more. Greta sang during the last third of my run; I actually stopped my music so I could listen to her. She was saying, “Wooooooooooooooooooooow” over and over again. I’m pretty sure she was impressed with her mother’s velocity and was cheering me on. Or she was enjoying the vibration of the road in her voice, but whatever.
On that note, Greta is talking. The Rozzinator bribed her into saying taught her to say “cookie.” (Thanks a lot Mom.) The “mamamama” that she has been babbling for months finally got directed at me this weekend, so that was memorable. She says “book.” She bursts out with an enthusiastic, high-pitched “HIiiiii” when someone enters the room. She is such a charmer. Seriously. The flirtation, the grin, and the batting-of-the-eyes is so. cute. it’s. ridiculous.
Maren and Pip played here for most of the rainy day. The phrase “Let’s pretend…” was uttered roughly one-hundred forty-seven times. They completed fifteen coloring pages. Greta and I were summoned for a puppet show; I struggled to follow the plot, and Greta struggled to stay in the reserved seating. They laughed; we all laughed. At one point, the entire family room floor was covered in a mosaic of blankets as part of an elaborate game. There were at least three fake weddings. Each changed dresses at least four times. They each (gulp) had babies today. And birthday parties for the babies. I loved listening to their chatter and imagination. Greta loved stalking them as they moved about the house. What can I say, life is grand when you are five/six years old!
The bulk of today was normal, and I do so cherish the normal time. I appreciate normal hours that, when strung together, allow me to forget that I have cancer in my life. Still, cancer pops up: I text with my mom as she is in the frenzied testing phase of her diagnosis, Brad and I juggle our budget to make room for the many cancer expenses, a woman in the grocery store recommends the name of a wig store when she sees my scarf, and I am weary (the weekly chemo is wearing on me).
Life is good. I am happy. We are blessed. As I was reading and thinking about my day today, I remembered this verse, an old favorite: But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. –Isaiah 40:31