Last week I competed in my VERY FIRST official race. The Ft. Lewis Turkey Trot. I ran the 10 K with my high school friend, Emmi. It was a blast! I can't believe I waited this long to enter a race. I placed 6th in my age division. I loved it so much that I signed up for another race in December. Izaac is still immobile. He screeches if he falls over and gets rescued so quickly by one of his siblings that he hasn't even begun to learn how to crawl. This is not a complaint. Just the opposite. I am so grateful that I don't have to baby-proof or chase him around yet. He is in the delightful stage of happily playing in one spot. Easy for me!
This child is driving me nuts. That's not a first. He is the male version of that poem, "when she was good she was very good and when she was bad she was horrid." We have good moments. Like when he gets out of bed for the umpteenth time to tell me he has "tons and tons of hugs for me." I will blame the bad moments on his complete lack of understanding as to why his Dad-his best buddy- has been gone for so long. After he hugs me he always tells me that he'd rather hug his Dad. Wouldn't we all.