*DISCLAIMER: If you are a parent with full time little people living in your house, you might mock my experience. Know that I am OK with that and that I have a great deal of respect for you. Especially if you are single.
A few days ago, I wrote about my adoption of Jeff Galloway’s Run-Walk-Run method of training for races. I had been reluctant to adopt the method, fearing that others would think I really didn’t run the full race. Or maybe I feared I would think I really didn’t run the full race. This week, however, I have seen the importance of walking during the race of life.
My adorable stepdaughter began a two week stay with us last week. She is six years old, full of life, energy, words and extroversion. Doesn’t that sound lovely? Can’t you picture her cute little girl smile, her infectious laughter, her boundless presence? And, oh, it is lovely. There truly isn’t much in life more rewarding that seeing life through the eyes of a child.
Then let’s say that, hypothetically speaking, you realize that your normal life rhythm is that of a childless married couple - calm, peaceful, unrestricted. You realize that every pattern and routine that you have knowingly worked into your life is disrupted. You discover routines you didn’t even know you had that are disrupted. The blissful glow of child energy turns to the harsh realities of a household where everything revolves around a little person. Not because you have no boundaries, but because that is the very nature of little people. You realize the depth of your own selfishness and the immaturity of the little person that still lives in you (ever had to apologize to a six-year old because YOU were being a butt? Me neither.) You realize that your world has been turned upside down, and the deep love you feel for the child is contrasted against your ambivalence of losing your life’s rhythm.
This is all, of course, just hypothetical.
But let’s say it is all true. The first thing I would say to any such person who may be in said situation is this: Your child experience isn’t normal. “Normal” families have years to build routines, to get used to life with the ebbs and flows of wee ones in the house. Your situation entails quick flashes of amazing child energy and love, gone almost as fast as it arrives. Just as you get accustomed to it, the energy is gone, leaving you to find the old rhythms again – until next time. I say this to give myself a break, to encourage the self-critic to let up a little. If our life consisted of full time child energy, I am sure things would settle and routine would be established. I am sure we would have different communities and networks of parents trying to survive thrive in their life with children. We’d all help each other out.
My husband is the main caretaker of my steplove when she is here. And he is so good at it. He loves her with the heart of a daddy whose desire is to be sure his little girl knows she is his princess, that he is there for her, and that she is accepted for who she is, always. It is humbling to watch him love her. When my husband works during her visit, my steplove and I get to have what she calls “Dani Day.” We have our time together to nurture our relationship. She teaches me much about life and myself, and I buck the fairy tale archetype of the “evil stepmother.” (May she always feel dissonance with that horrible stereotype.) Last week, we had two and a half “Dani Days,” followed by two and a half days of camping. It was all quite nice and very enjoyable. What is also true is that equaled five days of very little break from six-year old energy.
Come end of day five, I was weary. I noticed my tolerance thinning, my resolve cracking, and my desire to retreat and leave my husband to deal with the energy (ouch, that’s ugly) grow stronger. Day five happened to be the Fourth of July. We had just returned from camping. I was tired, dirty and crabby. We still had to unpack, clean up, make dinner, and go to fireworks. As the hours to accomplish those things loomed in front of me, I wanted to cry. Selfish me flared up, “BUT I DON’T WANNA!!!!” I had to press on, though, right? Keep running….
Or, Run – Walk – Run.
I wondered what it would mean to walk right now. Just for a minute. Just that little break to catch my breath. (By the way, how is it that the same events that make parents completely exhausted seem to have absolutely no exhausting effects on children?)
My husband and I make a plan. Get her settled (tubby, snack, just a teeny bit of Looney Toons), get our showers, figure out dinner, find fireworks. Oh, and breathe.
That shower break was the best part of my whole week (and I’m only exaggerating a little bit). It wasn’t much time, really. Just a quick little walk in the middle of the endurance run. I didn’t need to walk the whole race – I enjoy my time with my little steplove and don’t want huge breaks from her, especially given that I get to see her so infrequently. But, as each day’s race begins, I find little walk breaks will help me reach the end of the day without wanting to quit the race or pass out in the process.
I don’t want to sound too “Pollyanna-ish.” A quick shower did not make the fatigue or desire for a longer break go away. Just like walking in the middle of a run doesn’t erase my fatigue or get me to the finish line, but in both cases, walking allows me to go just a little bit further. More importantly, it helps me enjoy the race just a little bit more.
~~~Thoughts~~~
Where in your life are your normal rhythms disrupted?
What are the impacts of your disruptions?
Are there areas of your life’s “race” where you need to take a walk break?
What does walking look like for you in those scenarios?
Until next time, may you love your life today.
