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Friday, November 28, 2008
Running with my boy- a Mom's happy Day.
What a great feeling!! Yesterday at 8AM on Thanksgiving Day I ran fun 5K run with my 10 year old son, Max. He was so brave, so cute, so determined... just ate my heart up. Max is my high spirited one. He's the one I'm afraid I'm not connecting with as he matures. He's the one I really try not to get out of bed without praying for him. These past two months we've seen a big positve change in him. When I decided to find a turkey trot for me to get out of the house and enjoy my husband I signed the three of us up. The reasons were twofold. I think Max needs some extra loving from us and alone time with the two of us and I was concerned with leaving my 12 year old in charge of him and his younger siblings. I woke him up early, he did not complain at all. We got out there. Usual race environment and fun stuff going on. He looked a little nervous, but did not say anything. The gun went off and he ran a little too fast for my liking and almost a mile in he was upset and not having fun. I talked him into happy and pacing himself. Gave him some tips on form (you could hear his feet hitting the pavement). I made jokes and told him funny things that happened to me during races. I made a joke about the fine line between inspiring and annoying and asked him if he wished he brought an ipod. That sweet boy genuinely looked at me and said, "oh Mom, you're better than any ipod." I just about gushed. I just love that boy. It spilled over to the entire day and we're still basking in the closeness.
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2 comments:
Oh, I so want to run a race with my older son -- but he's only 4 1/2 now. He has run a 1/4 mile race. Iz is my spirited one, too. And I'm also afraid we're no longer connecting. So, even though your story is about a 10-year-old, you reminded me of my 4-year old.
There is hope. I promise. He is getting closer to us. Funny thing -he is the hardest, but he really prefers his family over friends. He's into superlatives in all that he does. He's also extremely sensitive with a tough guy demeanor. I hate to say it, but I've spent the past few years yelling at him all the time and really regret it. I wish I could take back every time I've ever raised my voice to him. He hates it. I hate it. We're doing so much better. He's the boy we had to hide the toothpase from or it would be squirted all over the place. He has so much passion and enthusiasm, which I admire and really need to control at times. Ahh, the magic word. I really am a control freak hiding out as a happy Mom.
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