Back my twenties, my one hesitation about having kids was diapers. I thought, Once I am ready to change diapers, then I will ready to have children.
Oh. Silly me. As if diapers are the main issues and troubles. Kids are hard. Haaaard. Man, I had no idea.
Then, my friends with teenagers laugh at me. “You think ages four and five is hard?” And they laugh, their eyes all crazy and bloodshot. Yikes.
The Expert was travelling most of this week, so I was doing mom and dad duty. (Happy Mother’s Day! Work your ass off all week with the kids so you can “earn” Mother’s Day! Ha ha!!) The Expert usually drops the kids at school/daycare and I pick them up. Well, trying to drop, pick-up, feed, clean, and train for a little race in the middle of all this…it’s kind of nuts.
Friday morning, the Swim Bike Boy Kid would not put on his shoes, and insisted on wearing waaaay too tight pants. While the Swim Bike Girl Kid, would not do anything but cling to me and cry. Which broke my heart.
Kids add an insane element to life. I think back to BK (before kids)… seriously, how easy. I thought I had so much stuff to do. I had no idea. Now, I have stuff to do. Lots and lots of it. And I know you guys do too!
So happy Mother’s day to all the Swim Bike Moms out there. Happy Mother’s Day for the often thankless and crazy job of (attempting) to raise people to grow up to become non-ax-murdering, contributing members of society. An accomplishment that is not determined earned or unearned until a scary, many years later.
Here’s a little post just for you, my Swim Bike Moms…
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A Triathlete Mother’s Prayer
This has been a really hard day. And I am still wearing my sweaty sports bra. From like 7 hours ago.
I hope you didn’t see me feed the kids that crap for dinner. Or watch me guzzle two glasses of wine before the crap was even rolling to a boil (while I stretched my hamstrings by putting my feet up on the cutting board…I’ll disinfect it later).
And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t see me scream at the kid when he took a Sharpie to my tri bike. (“Did you seriously just write the word ‘poop’ and draw a pig on my bike!?? You little—–“)
And I am sorry when I lost my mind when, between the two of them, they ate an entire box of my gels. Oh, and then when my son put my new running shoe in the toilet. And when my daughter used an entire tube of Body Glide liquid powder on her one-eyed baby doll. Oh, help me Lord. What was going on today?
I know I am not a picture of motherhood perfection–not like my other non-triathlon friends– I am not those women who manage to actually get made-up for school events. Those whomen don’t show up to school sweating like a monkey and wearing a visor and running shoes. But I am doing the best I can. With what I got.
And despite all of my faults, I have a request. Or a few.
If you can just let me go to sleep right now… and sleep for the next six hours so I can get up to run, I promise I won’t yell at the kids tomorrow. And then, when I wake up really early and tip-toe out of the house, can you please let the kids stay in their rooms—because when they get up and run to my husband, then he gets mad—and it’s this whole thing. I need my tiptoes to be unheard. Please.
Then on this weekend’s run, can you please let my daughter not poop her pants in the gym childcare? Because the last time that happened, I had to go change all her clothes and re-deposit her in the childcare. But it turned out that I ran for 2 more miles with poop on my chin. I couldn’t figure out that smell (or the looks from others).
Oh, and maybe, just once—before a race if you can not let the kids be up all night with a stomach virus. That would be really great. And if my daughter would stop hiding my goggles. That would be super.
And although my requests are selfish, I pray most of all that my children will see that swimming, biking and running is a good thing.
I pray that they will always know that triathlon makes for a healthier and happier mommy… and that most of the time, I am doing all these miles so I can be better for them. A stronger mom, someone they can be so very proud of. Someone who can outrun their friends’ moms. Someone who can climb hills on a bike like a mother… who is way better than that dumb kid’s mom who—-nevermind. Ah-hem.
Dear God, most of all, I pray that being a Swim Bike Mom shows my kids that I love them so much… that I would kick “Run” right on out of the traditional “Swim Bike Run” trilogy—and put in its place—Mom.
Because running may be what keeps me sane… but being a Mom is my motivation to Just Keep Moving Forward.
🙂 Happy Mother’s Day… You Mothers!