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Perspective

My clan has been suffering a run of bad luck lately. From injury to frustration, everyone in the family has been tested over the last few days. But my view on situation shifted dramatically today, as I gained a little perspective.

The challenges started not long after I spent a moment worrying about my daughters on their overnight camp out with the YMCA. I let myself wonder what I'd do if something happened to them. A couple hours later my cell phone rang and a camp councilor shared the news. 10 year old Haley survived all her hiking, swimming and camping adventures just fine. It was back at the Y where she tried to get down the stairs a bit too fast, jumped and landed on her ankle. This was exactly 18 hours before she was suppose to run in a state track meet.

Any parents who's gotten that call about their child's bad fall, injury, break, or cut knows you go through a range of emotions, a version of the 5 stages of grief. Acceptance didn't fully come until 3 days later when a radiologist took a second look at the x-rays and discovered what we were told was a bad sprain, was actually a broken ankle.

So, one bright orange cast and two little crutches later, Haley summer was dramatically changed.
As all this went down, as a rash of other annoyances hit us like tiny rocks flying at the windshield. My husband threw out his back. My son broke part of his braces and the fix at the orthodontist left him in pain and unable to eat. A new strange mole on my side prompted a concerned visit to the dermatologist. We were dropping like flies.

Record rain on a July Sunday washed out plans for skiing at the lake and the tournament game. When my son finally did play baseball, they lost in extra innings. Then someone broke into our car. I still don't know what exactly is missing.

So, yes, kinda a crappy week.

But then today I started a new project at work. I'm telling the stories of three 'Make-a-Wish' kids. These are children facing life threatening diseases, who get a wish granted, things like meeting celebrities or taking dream vacations. I did the interviews a couple of weeks ago and am just now listening to them and writing the stories.

Each of these families faced far more than broken ankles, sore mouths and lost games.

These children are looking at death in the face: a 4 year old fighting a rare brain cancer, a 19 year old with cystic fibrosis trying to live as normal a college life as possible, and a 9 year old with a rare genetic neurological disease that will likely take him in his teens.

All of the kids smiled and laughed with me as they shared their amazing 'wish' adventures. Each parent masked their heartbreaking pain for a few minutes to tell me their stories of trying to protect their child, trying to be strong, and how much a trip to Disneyland or New York made a difference. As I talked to each family I didn't let myself think about my own kids. But back at my desk, watching the video on my laptop, I was overwhelmed with the though of "why them?" And "Could it be us?"

No parent should have to fight for their child's life or face the real possibility that a disease might win. And yet these people also really seemed to experience real, deep, true joy. They are fighting off dying and living at the same time.

And so a lesson I've learned over and over, I learn again. I briefly felt sorry for myself, and then had it all put back into perspective.

As I write my make-a-wish stories, I hope I can share not so much that these families are special or brave, but that they are ordinary; that ordinary people can rise to extraordinary challenges; that when faced with the unthinkable, parents find a way; that a sick child can be a happy child; and that granting a wish and giving a family a week of joyful memories is priceless. I want people to put it in perspective like I did, and I hope I can help make more wishes come true.

On being a grown up

As a kid I remember that delicious feeling in the morning of knowing I didn't HAVE to get out of bed. The moment after my eyes would flutter open and I'd get my barrings on the time and day, and I'd realize it was Saturday. I'd cuddled down into my pillow and under my blanket and relax into round two of deep sleep. It was pure joy.

I don't think there is any equivalent in adulthood. Maybe when the kids are with Grandma and I get a chance to sleep in. But no. Because in that first moment of consciousness I think about the kids and wonder if they're OK, sleeping well, having fun, missing us.

There is the tug of responsibility, the awareness of being a parent much of the time. Don't get me wrong, there are times when I am completely in my own self. When I'm so in the moment of some engaging whatever.... writing in the newsroom, running in a race, reading an amazing book, lost in new songs on iTunes, debating with friends over wine, absorbed behind my camera lens... that I forget all about the fact that I'm a grownup. But in those moments of solitude and silence, the times when I should be able to relax, I am often keenly aware of being Mom.

I don't know if it is a gender thing, or a me thing, but unlike every other title I've ever worn, I can't check being the parent, grownup, or mom, at the door. I consider this a flaw. Perhaps it is like a bad habit that I must simply focus on and conquer. Is there a 12 step program for mom-ness?

Not that I don't want to be the grown up. I relish my role, love my family and can't imagine life without my three children. But, (oh yes, that big mom but!) But sometimes I wish when I first woke up I could throw the covers over my head with reckless abandon. That I could let the silence of solitude surround me and just be.

Maybe I'm afraid I will forget what its like to be ever presently Mom. And that in a blink of an eye my babies will be the grown ups. And I will long for them, long for feeling responsible for them, long for when quiet was a brief gift.

I don't know. Perhaps I should stop writing now, and just listen... to... the ... silence.

I am not recommitted to my blog

In my last post, in January, I promised myself to get back to blogging. I also publicly declared I would run a half marathon. Fortunately I did make one of those goals. I ran the Eugene Half Marathon. I did not, however, begin blogging with more consistency.

So what is the deal? Why don't I do this more often??

Well, I can theorize about my lack of blogging in several ways.

For one: I am far too crazy, insane, busy to blog regularly. But that doesn't completely hold water because I manage to hang out on Facebook a far amount.

Number two: I write for a living so perhaps it feels like work to write a blog when I come home from writing news all day. But this is a very different kind of writing, and really its not fair to compare the two. I don't think this excuse flies.

Number three: There is no feedback. I don't think anyone is reading this and without an audience who am I writing for? Well, she says to herself, you could just write for yourself. Hmm interesting point, self. Thank you self.

Perhaps it is a combination of all these things. Maybe if I took a little time to figure out posting this to Facebook and adding pictures, people would read it and I would want to write because people are reading it. It would become a self fulfilling prophecies.

Certainly no one want to read about me wining because I'm not writing. So there you have it.
I won't promise to blog more. I will or I won't. And either way I better write about something more interesting than whether I'm writing our not.

2009 Already?

Perhaps I've bit off more than I can chew, digitally speaking. I recently joined Facebook and found it rather addictive. This poor little blog sat here completely ignored for months on end.

But I'm going to try to recommit. Perhaps my blog and I should seek counseling? No. No need. I remember the joys of spouting out into the great wide open, unsure if anyone is reading, but finding it enjoyable and cathartic just the same.

A new goal should get my creative juices flowing. I'm planning... No. I'm training for.... No. I'm going to do a half marathon. That's more than 13 miles for those of you at home keeping score. The longest I've ever run before is 7 miles, so this is a big one for me. And once again I'm putting it here in writing, whether anyone is reading this or not, as a sort of contract with my self.

Do it Jen. Run Jen Run. Oh yes, and Blog Jen Blog.

Am I ready?

With just a week to go until the Eugene Marathon, I will bet there are a lot of people out there wondering.

Am I ready?

It is a valid question. If you've been training for months, and sticking to a schedule, then yes, you probably are ready. Is it enough? Is it ever enough? If, like me, you haven't been as dedicated as you'd liked to running, then you may have some self doubt.

Now, I'm doing the 5K, and could probably run that far without a lick of training if I had too. I'd just be sore and maybe even injured afterwards. But I don't want to just limp through. I'd like to enjoy the race. And I see it as a bridge to my triathlon at the end of May.

I think I'm physically ready, and after running 3k at the March of Dimes, March for Babies event on Saturday, I think I'm also mentally ready.

I'm also excited. I can't wait to see all the thousands of runners lined up, and all their friends and family cheering them on. It is very cool to feel a part of something.

I feel like a little bit of an imposter, because I'm only doing the 5k, but I know I shouldn't. Because I'm taking a step (actually a whole bunch of fast steps) towards a bigger goal. And maybe someday I'll tackle a half marathon.

At the very least, I hope by joining this race, I'll understand a little better why so many thousands of people spend hundreds of hours running and running, chasing a dream.

And I've still got a week of training, to make sure I'm ready.

Better weather...

What a difference a week makes. I just finished a run along the Willamette River in crisp, sunny weather. Everyone was smiling and giving little nods of acknowledgement as if to say, "Yeah, I love this weather, too."

Last week I ran in the pouring rain and blistering winds, and biked in hail and pelting rain. Now, it wasn't miserable when I set out on these training legs, but turned nasty when I was about as far away from home as I could be. Grrr.

Or more like Brrr!I admit it.

I'm one of those fair weather sports gals. I like to ski in calm, sunny or overcast conditions. I prefer to swim outside when the temperature is 75+. I like to run when its not to cold or wet, not too hot or humid. I like to bike in still, mild weather. I'm no hardcore triathlete.

I like comfort.

But there's been nothing comfortable about training this spring. Blame it on La Nina or whatever, but its been a lousy season. Last year when I trained for a triathlon, it was much later in the year, and much nicer weather.

So after so many weeks of total discomfort, it is so inspiring to run in the sunshine.

I hope, hope, hope its like this next week for the Eugene Marathon. Not just for my own selfish comfort, but because I want all the visiting runners to enjoy their Eugene experience. I have friends coming down from Seattle to run, and if its hailing, I'll be a little embarrassed.

But, frankly, that comes with the territory. When you are reaching for a goal, you can't let a little rain, wind, sleet or hail get in your way. Because, as my husband like to remind me all the time, it could be just as miserable on race day.

Let's hope not.