The Heart Of The Marathon

Posted on 04/16/2013 by

As someone who has ran 5 marathons in the last few years, I’m going to let those of you who don’t run marathons in on a little secret. Contrary to what you might think, marathon runners are not elite athletes. Granted, there are elite marathon runners and all of the other professional runners who are actually competing with each other to cross the finish line first for a prize, but they comprise such a small portion of all the runners who are out there on the course. What are the other 20,000 people doing on a marathon course?

The answer is simple. Being a part of something larger than ourselves. Healing ourselves. Standing up for what we believe in. Raising money for causes we hold dear. Dying to the part of us that says we aren’t capable of doing great things.

I showed up to my first marathon a few years back fully expecting to see nothing but slim and trim athletes and having given birth to my son only a little over a year ago, I was sure they were all going to be in much better shape than I was. I was shocked to see that marathon runners were comprised of some of the most unatheletic looking individuals on the planet. All shapes. All sizes. And all ready to run. It was during my first marathon that I learned what running a marathon is all about: Heart.

Running a marathon is all about heart. It is a journey of the soul more than anything else. Yes, you train because you have to respect the distance, but we are all running for something and it’s not to win thousands. We are running for a reason. One of my favorite things to do while I run is to read everyone’s t-shirts. Most everyone is running for somebody else or for something else.  The course is loaded with people running to remember someone else because it’s a tangible way to remember, grieve, and acknowledge the importance of their life. It provides a way to give the loss some kind of meaning.

My first marathon I ran as a St. Jude Hero which means I raised money for St. Jude’s Childrens Hospital, but I will always cherish my second marathon that I ran as part of Team Jake. Jake had cerebral palsy and in 2006, his dad ran the OC marathon to raise awareness for Cerebral Palsy. He carried his son, Jake, in his arms across the finish line. The family spent the entire afternoon with Jake and his father celebrating the marathon finish. That night Jake died peacefully in his sleep. Rather than give in to grief and bitterness, the family embraced the OC marathon as an opportunity to honor Jake’s life and to continue to raise money for Cerebral Palsy.

This is what I mean by heart. And this is what was out on the Boston Marathon course yesterday. Thousands of people running to honor a memory. Thousands of people running to honor a cause. Thousands of people running to get their life back. Thousands of people completing the final piece in a long complicated journey of grief. Mile 26 was marked to honor Newton’s victims, but every step of those 26.2 miles carried with it names and faces of runners trying to honor loved ones in some way.

In addition to the senseless death and injury that occurred yesterday, the coward for yesterday’s events took something that is so sacred to the marathon itself. The coward dishonored the lives of countless individuals, took away the opportunity for the runners to complete their journey. Took away the chance to cross the finish line because for all of us that have ran we know that it is so much more than the end of 26.2 miles. For most of us, crossing that line is not an ending, but a new beginning.

My heart broke. I didn’t know how to process yesterday’s events so I did the only thing I know to do. I grabbed my shoes and tightened up my laces. I put a helmet on my son’s head and handed him his scooter.

And we went for a run.

 

Posted in Life As I Know It | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Trust Your Gut

Posted on 02/04/2013 by

I knew from the first time that Gus threw up that something was seriously wrong with him. I knew it because I felt it in every part of my being. It wasn’t because I hate puking and go into a panic attack whenever someone near me pukes or that I was being dramatic. I felt it in my core that something was wrong.

It didn’t matter that everyone around me was telling me he was okay. That the flu is just really bad this year. The flu affects all kids differently. My pediatrician looked at me when I took him in the afternoon before he was hospitalized and said, “You seem really concerned about the flu.”

I explained to him that my child had barely been awake for the last 20 hours. And when I say barely, I mean barely. He had been lethargic and completely out of it from the moment he threw up. I explained to him that I knew my kid. I know what my kid acts like when he’s well and I know what he acts like when he’s sick. And this wasn’t Gus’s first go around with being really sick. I tried to let the doctor know that my son never quits moving. He is always on the go. And even when he’s sitting still, he’s singing to himself or carrying on a dialogue with the superheros that he’s coloring.  It doesn’t matter how sick he is. There was a weekend where he had multiple seizures throughout the weekend and was still bringing his shoes to me and motioning for the door. My kid was and always has been the anti-sleeper so the fact that he couldn’t stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time was alarming and disturbing.

Our pediatrician took blood and sent us home. I found myself in the middle of the night having a heated discussion with Yancy about how I knew something was seriously wrong with Gus and that we should take him to the emergency room. I was on the verge of hysteria. Yancy calmly explained to me that Dr. K was a pediatrician and he was a doctor who had worked with kids for over 30 years. He said- “There’s no way he would send us home with Gus if he thought there was something seriously wrong with him.”

Except that he did. Except that there was.

Dr. K called in the morning and said- “I’m looking at Gus’s lab results now. Hang up the phone and take him directly to Cedars. You’ll get there faster than the ambulance.”

I share this because I learned something very valuable from this. I knew something was seriously wrong with Gus and I let myself get talked out of it. Numerous times. I tried to tell myself that they were right and I was just being paranoid. Just being scared. But deep down. I knew.  And I couldn’t shake it. I will never make that mistake again. It could have been a fatal one.

I was talking with one of my dear friends the other day and she reminded me about a family we used to know who lost their toddler last year. We used to see them at the park all the time. We don’t see them anymore because their little boy is no longer with us. Last year, he got really sick. He got so sick that he died from the flu. This was after repeated trips to the pediatrician and repeated assurances that it was only the flu and he would be fine. They found him in his crib barely breathing and the rest ends in tragedy. Fact: The leading cause of death among kids under the age of 5 is the flu.

I share all of this to say: Trust your gut.

I mean it. I don’t tell people what to do very often. It just isn’t my style, but this is important. If you think something is wrong, don’t stop until you’re satisfied something isn’t. Who cares if the doctor thinks you’re being paranoid or overreacting? There’s nobody that knows your kid like you know your kid.

That mama bear instinct is loud. And if she roars- listen.

 

 

Posted in General Parenting, motherhood | Tagged , , , , | 19 Comments

My New Year Miracle

Posted on 02/01/2013 by

I have to be honest. 2012 was not an easy year for me. It was a keep putting one foot in front of the other kind of year. I’m one of those people who gets really excited about the new year and given how difficult 2012 was for me, I was especially excited for the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013. I love January 1st in the same way that I love getting a new fresh notebook. It’s a completely blank slate. It’s symbolic of a fresh start and loaded with possibilities.

Within a few days of the new year, I found myself in a hospital room with Gus surrounded by doctors and nurses with concerned looks on their faces and no answers as to what was wrong with Gus. We spent the beginning of 2013 in the pediatric ward at Cedars Sinai. It’s a long story filled with mystery and miracle. Basically, Gus’s symptoms looked like he was in keteoacidosis but his lab results looked the opposite.  His blood sugar was dangerously low (45) and his bicarbonate index was also dangerously low. I didn’t even know what a bicarbonate index was until this happened. Basically, it’s the index that controls and maintains the metabolic functioning in the body. A normal index is 23. A kid who has severe dehydration to the point of hospitalization is 14-15. Gus’s bicarbonate index when we got to the emergency room was a 7.  With no explanation as to why.

As a parent, your biggest fear is that something will happen to your child. And when something does, it shakes you to your very core. Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have had to see my son in such distress and beg God not to let my baby die. It sounds dramatic, but only because it was. That’s where we were. The hardest part was that the doctors didn’t have any answers. They couldn’t explain why he had gotten so sick, what was wrong with him, or if he was going to get better.

The level of powerlessness that I felt brought me to my knees. I must have said every prayer that I knew how to pray. In every kind of way. It was the only thing to do. And then for reason, 36 hours later, at 5 in the morning, Gus woke up and asked for a cheeseburger. By the next afternoon, he was begging to go for a walk and asking me why I looked so sad. When I told him that mommy gets really worried when he gets sick because I love him so much, his reply was simply, “But mom- you don’t have to be sad. I’m not sick. I’m better.”

And he was right.

Have you ever watched a team of doctors in a room, scratching their heads and looking at each other with confusion as they try to figure out what just happened? I have. All they kept saying over and over again was, “it really is a mystery. It doesn’t make any sense.” Even the nurses were amazed. When I brought him into the play room to play with the toy trains, a bunch of them gathered at the window to watch, pointing him out to other nurses, and saying- “can you believe that’s the kid in 4021?” I saw their exclamations of “wow’s” and “no ways.”

The doctors are still saying it’s a mystery. But I’m not. It’s not a mystery to me. It was a miracle.

 

Posted in motherhood | Tagged , , | 11 Comments

Media Fast

Posted on 01/08/2013 by

I hope everyone enjoyed the holiday season. December 31st was my last night on Facebook for awhile and I’m not sure if I’ll go back. I’ve given it up at various times and each time I go back I wonder- why did I do that?

2013 certainly did not begin in the way we wanted it to in my house. We got to witness how quickly the world can come to a halt and everything you hold dear can be threatened. 2013 has begun with the realization of how precious life is and a heartbreaking reminder of what really matters.

Given everything that is going on, I’ve decided to go on a complete media fast. This include all things blogging as well. I will be checking my email because of its relation to work and other things, but besides that I am disconnecting with all things online for 30 days.

I have to surround myself in all things positive right now. And frankly, there’s not much in the online world that is positive. Mostly, it’s a whirling abyss of negativity and media hypnotism. It’s more than that, though. It’s not just the negativity that I am avoiding. I am also avoiding a world that isn’t real.

My focus has to be on what is in front of my face. And what will not be in front of my face right now is a computer screen or a smart phone. I have a mountain that I will be speaking to and putting all of my focus into filling my rooms with love, health, and healing.

 

 

Posted in Life As I Know It | 4 Comments

Growing Up With Guns

Posted on 12/21/2012 by

Most of you know I was born in a really small town in the country. What you might now know is that this means I pretty much grew up surrounded by guns. My dad like all of the other men in my family was an avid hunter. He used to clean his rifles at the dining room table. I still remember the long skinny pole that went down the chamber to clean it as well as the smell of the dark oily stuff he put on it (yes, that’s my technical term, “dark oily stuff.”).  I spent hours with my brother running through the brush that was taller than we were with the tip of the gun resting on my dad’s shoulder serving as our guide.  I loved it. I should also mention that we ate everything he shot. I know the taste of fresh game well. It’s one that you don’t forget. I had a healthy respect for guns and nearly everyone I knew owned one. Life in the country almost always requires it. It’s not just for hunting purposes, but when you live in the country there are critters big and small both of which might require the use of a weapon to attend to.

I’m comfortable around guns. I know my way around guns. Most of you know I’ve also had a bit of a shall we say- troubled life as well. Someone else having a gun has actually saved my life on more than one occasion.

When I moved down south to go to graduate school, I took an apartment by myself in a pretty rough part of town. I’ve never had the luxury of wealth so I had to make my financial aid dollars stretch which meant I lived in an apartment where drug raids happened next door, people were beat to the point of unconsciousness in the parking lot, and gunshots were a common occurrence. I was a single, white female living alone. It was only a few weeks before I’d secured a gun of my own to keep my safe. And yes, it kept me safe.

So, when everyone immediately jumped to gun control in regard to the horrible tragedy in Newtown, I rolled my eyes at Yancy and said- “C-mon, it’s not that simple.” And I don’t think it’s that simple. The escalating severity and frequency of these mass shootings is disturbing and points to a huge problem that I believe is rooted in systematic failures within our current society centering around much larger issues. There is a huge failure in our mental health system that gun control can’t even begin to touch. We are facing serious demise as a society which these events only seem to showcase. I think the evidence of this continues to be demonstrated with the media’s sensationalism of the event and society’s hypnotic obsession with it.

I shared all of this with Yancy a few nights ago and he had a great response. He said, “You’re totally right. But, let’s face it, the guns make it easier. Let’s not make it so easy.”

And he’s right. I don’t think that the government needs to take away everyone’s guns. The truth is that sometimes guns are needed. Have you ever tried to peacefully negotiate with a big black bear who wandered up onto your deck? I’m just saying.  With that being said, there’s got to be ways to safeguard and control access to guns.

Whenever someone is checked into a psychiatric facility, you go through a huge search. Every single piece of anything that could possibly be considered a weapon to hurt one’s self with or somebody else is taken away. In fact, you even lose your shoe laces when you are checked in. Does this mean that nobody ever commits suicide in a psychiatric facility? No. Does this mean that nobody ever hurts another person in a psychiatric facility? No.

But what it does mean is that it is a lot harder to do when you don’t have the means.

 

Posted in Life As I Know It | Tagged , , , | 13 Comments

Perspective Check

Posted on 12/14/2012 by

I don’t watch TV in the morning. I’m not one of those individuals who rolls out of bed and immediately grabs my phone to check my e-mail. I’m the opposite. I stay insulated in my world for as long as possible and do some spiritual prep work before meeting with the outside world. Nothing could have prevented me for the outside world today, though.

Yancy sent me a text mid morning to turn on the TV. And I did. Before I knew what was really going on my first thought was – “oh my God, another one…” It’s beyond sad that we have come to expect mass shootings. They no longer surprise us like they used to. Then I watched in horror with the rest of the country as I learned that it was an elementary school and twenty children had been shot and killed. Some mad man walked into a kindergarten classroom and started shooting.

I couldn’t watch. I turned off the TV and sat down on my couch. I cried. I really did and I felt like throwing up. I kept getting up and sitting back down. Getting up and sitting back down. I was having the conversation that I’m sure almost every parent in this country went through today. I wanted to march out my door to my son’s preschool and scoop him up. I wanted to take him out of there and never let him out of my sight again. It was extremely hard to talk myself out of it and ultimately, the only reason I didn’t was because I knew it would scare him.

And then I kept thinking about how I hadn’t colored with him before school. He had asked me, “mom, can you please color with me before school?” All I kept hearing was myself telling him that I needed to empty the dishwasher. And I didn’t say it nicely. I said it like emptying the dishwasher was the most important task in the world. Shame on me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the parents who lost their children. Most of you know, the Dr. Phil show that I participated in aired yesterday and so for the last 24 hours I’ve been inundated with hateful messages from people who don’t agree with me. Suddenly, all of it seemed like the most insignificant thing on the planet.

Here’s the deal: Who cares whether you breastfeed until your child is 6 months old or 60 years old? At least we have our children to feed.

Who cares if your child sleeps in your bed or sleeps in their crib? At least there is a child asleep in your house tonight.

Who cares if you wear your child strapped to your chest or push them in a stroller? At least you have a child to hold.

Who cares which school your child goes to and what kind of API scores it got last year? At least you have a child to send to school.

Who cares whether you set strict boundaries or no boundaries at all? At least you have a child to worry about.

There are families who will go to bed tonight with a loss that only other parents who have lost a child can even begin to understand. They will never get to engage in lengthy, heated arguments about what is best for their child again. Because their child is gone.

When I picked up Gus from school today, I did what all of you did. I hugged him so tightly that he said, “Ouch. Mom, you’re hurting me.” I’m pretty sure I won’t be letting go of him for a long time.

Most of you know I spend a ton of time talking about parenting and talking about our current generation of parents.  I’ve asked what’s wrong with our current generation of parents dozens of times. I’ve offered insight and evidence about what’s wrong with us and why we parent the way that we do since our style of parenting seems so dramatically different from those generations who have come before us.

Wanna know another big difference? We are the current generation of parents who live in a world where masked gun men commit acts of unimaginable terror. They storm into kindergarten classrooms and assassinate children.  They enter into movie theaters and open fire. They walk through college campuses and take aim at anyone in their way. That is the world we live in and I’m pretty sure it’s one that previous generations didn’t have to contend with. And just how do you go about dealing with that?

Posted in Life As I Know It | Tagged , , | 11 Comments
The Mommy Psychologist TM