Wednesday, October 14, 2009


A few days ago I went for a run/walk. Shall we say a walun or a rulk? It was the first time since I got my enormous blister. It was so nice!

It was so refreshing partly because I compared it to the times I am out and about in survival mode. Granted I had a little fellow with me in the jogging stroller but after a few short minutes he was asleep, but I didn't feel the pressures that would normally accompany me as I go places.

But there are times that I can think of where I felt like I was barely hanging onto any thread of civility and normallacy that I could possibly have. Like when people can hear me three blocks away (quite a feat in Brooklyn) shouting at the top of my lungs, "S and R STOP! YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR--WAIT FOR ME!" Perhaps you may rushedly hear me say, "Come on, hurry! We've go to get . . ." when a dear one dawdles behind in quiet revelry of the glories of the outside or pouting sulkily because of my perceived short-sitedness.

My feelings of utter-exhaustion passed at least ten minutes before any situation like the one I listed above, now worn down to a bitter if-we-stay-out-a-moment-longer-I-will-probably-fall asleep-on-the-cement tone of voice and composure (okay that might be an overstatement, but you get the point, right?). Patience is a virtue--one which requires a desperate amount of concentrated determination and endurance.

Compared to the walrun (walk/run) where I talked softly to one child rocked to sleep by the breaks in the cement, my ability to look in one direction at a time (instead of three), my attentiveness to the details I saw--like neat designs on buildings, flowers and such. I could take a moment to breathe and think about the details of my life. I could see the Statue of Liberty, boats floating down the river, Staten Island, the Verrazano Bridge and a multitude of other glories around this area. Things seems so much simpler and easier when one can step back and cumulatively contemplate life in every light.

I came home rejuvenated and thankful, striving to to stave off the survival mode and more fully enjoy the kid mode.

Sometimes we need a pause of silence to help us fully appreciate the music of life.


Joe and Kristin Family said...

Well said. You deserve the best. We often have to yell at the top of our lungs to get our kids to listen, too. It's normal. :)

Mara said...

Mel--what a tremendous writer you are. This could be published! I'm so glad to have the privilege to read about you and your family's adventures. And I know exactly what you mean. Those late night runs alone to the store (or wherever!) are my favorite. I have to say, I love it when it's totally silent in the car.

Mindy said...

So true! Being outside helps me to put things into perspective and enjoy life a little more. Thanks for sharing!

the jensen's said...

Seriously, you are my hero. 3 kids in Brooklyn? Not for the faint of heart. One day I will reach a "Melanie-state" of multitaskiness. I'm glad you were able to have some quiet moments to just enjoy life!

Rachel said...

This made me wish I could sit next to you at a playgroup at the park and talk it up about the trials and joys of mothering. I love your writing, this blog is such a gift to your children. I feel lucky to get to read it too. Much love from AZ, Rachel and Sophia