Preschool

The day I have been dreading for a while finally came last week. I have been a selfish mother and have not enrolled Tylie in preschool because I was not ready for it. But, since I found a school that I liked and I realized that Tylie was really ready for it, I enrolled her. I hate to face facts but the hard truth is that she is going to go to kindergarten next year five days a week so I am looking at this preschool this as somewhat of a parachute to my nosedive I will take with kindergarten. I am hoping that it will break my fall slightly and get my heart calloused to the pain of my baby being gone.
I was worried about Ty because she is very mild and will not shove her way into any spotlight. She tends to hang back around a lot of kids and I have been worried that she will get lost in the backround of her class. She has a friend in her class and I am relieved that he is there to pull her along a little bit.
When we went to meet her teacher a few days before school started, she immediately crawled into her shy shell and my heart shattered. How was I going to leave her if she was going to hate it? The only was this was going to be possible for me was if she went bounding into class and didn't look back. My stomach was in knots worried sick that she would hate it and, in turn, hate me for subjecting her to such a place. When the morning came, she was excited. I couldn't tell if she was really excited to go to school or if she was just excited to wear her new school clothes. I did everything a mom should do. I did made sure all her clothes were perfectly clean and wrinkle free, I did her hair in her favorite "princess" hair do, I took pictures of her before she left the house, and I broke out the video camera so I could remember my emotional roller coaster ten years from now. I choked back tears as I drove that sad route. I put on a smile as we marched in to the school hand in hand. I let her hand go and watched her stride ahead of me in the hall so she could feel independent and confident that she knew where her class was. I peeked around the corner as she sat at a desk and got started on a project for her teacher. She looked up and saw me. With a goofy grin on her face, she waved goodbye and turned back to her coloring. I ducked out and pinned myself to the wall. I repeated a mantra in my head over and over telling myself that she was ready and to let her go. My arms ached to reached through that wall and grab her but my head won and I sulked out the door. Once I was safely in my car, I could let it all go. I sat in the parking lot with Mason in the back seat quiet as a mouse. He patiently waited for the tears to stop so I could see to go home. After the tears finally quit flowing, I turned to Mason and him and I made a firm pact that he would not grow up and leave me like his sister did. I know he agreed because I told him to slap me five if he was ok with that and he promptly placed his little hand on mine.
I know what you are thinking. It is preschool. Only three days a week. And you are right. 3 days a week for 2 hours at a time. No big deal. Here is the real problem though. That night, after Jake got home, we were talking about Tylie's first day at preschool. She was snuggled up in bed and we were talking about how well she did. I explained to Jake my tears and told him I feel silly acting this way. I should be able to control these stupid emotions. He sighed and said, " The real problem is that this is the beginning of it all." Yes, he is absolutely right. The beginning of growing up. School, dancing, girlfriend drama, mean girls at school. She is no longer completely sheltered by me. The beginning of it all. Let the tears flow...

Goal Complete!

Four thirty in the morning comes really early. I have never been a great morning person and I hold sleep in high priority so I make it a goal to only wake up before five o'clock one time a year. That one time is the day after Thanksgiving for all the great shopping. So when my alarm clock started screaming at four thirty last weekend and my belly wasn't stuffed full of turkey, my body was confused. My mind was clear as a bell though. Even though my eyes weren't willing to open, I knew exactly where I needed to go. I tip toed to my cedar chest where my running shoes and Ipod had been set the night before. Once my hair was in a pony tail and my laces tied tight, I snuck down the stairs. Brittany was waiting and silently we slipped out to begin our journey.
The drive to Provo was short but my stomach was in butterflies the whole way. Our conversation was a little different than our normal chatter. We were building each other up and setting expectations. We spoke of how much hard work we had invested and today was the day it was going to pay off.
As we stood there waiting for the bus to come and take us up the mountain, I began to question things. "Was it really a good idea to have a bus drive you half way up a mountain just so you can run yourself back down?" I tried to ignore the crowds of runners around us that looked like they had done this a hundred times and they were just looking for a leisure run. I tried to focus on Britt and not let my nerves get the best of me. I tried to control my shivers from the chilly mountain air that was slowly seeping into my already skimpy running clothes. All of that melted away when I finally heard the blow horn go off.
Britt and I got into a pace. We were together. The same goal in mind. As I ran along, I searched the face of each runner by me. I was lost in thoughts wondering what their story was. A sense of calm would wash over me each time I looked next to me and saw Britt by my side. Once in a while, she would allow her jack rabbit take over and I would lose her for a bit, but I always knew where she was. I had a huge smiled plastered across my face as we ran past Bridal Veil Falls. I made myself stay aware of my beautiful surroundings and not get lost in my breathing.
Everything was near perfection until mile 10. My knee started buckle and I started to limp. I tried cranking my Ipod and putting on "Eye of the Tiger" but my knee was not letting my determination win. I silently prayed that I could finish strong. I knew that only way I could fail this is if I just sat down. As long as I was moving forward, the end would come. I had told Britt to go ahead and I was left to battle this on my own. After a short walk, my mental side took hold and I pushed forward. I came around a bend and could see people waiting for their own runners to finish. My eyes began to frantically search for my cheering section. I had never wanted to see Jake's face more than in that moment. He is the one that has been with me on this whole journey. He is the one that rubs my feet after a hard run. He is the one that would understand my knee and the pain I was in. He is the one that I could look at and that is all it would take. I finally saw the finish line and knew that he was close. And then there he was. Exactly where I wanted him to be. I heard my family cheering and I raised my arms high in the air. I did it. If I had the energy, I probably would have broken out into a fist pumping mosh pit.
I am proud of Britt and myself. We made a goal at the start of this year to run a half marathon and we did it. I learned a lot about myself. I learned that you never want to try to compete with the people first across the start line, I learned that my knee really does suck but I can deal with more pain than I thought, I learned that runners really are crazy and everything I thought about them in high school is true. I learned that I hate men with strollers who blaze by me on an uphill and I love old men who are easily in their seventies and still can run a 10k. I have gained a new appreciation for the people on the side of the road that I fly by in my car. Most importantly though, I learned that life is very much like my half marathon. The only way I can really lose is if I sit down and quit. I am not racing anyone but myself. And in the end, I know that as I cross that finish line, I will frantically be looking for my loved ones. I will hear their cheers and that will drive me forward. I will cross that line with my arms held high and collapse into the arms of my Savior. And there I hope to stay.