Enough is Enough

I feel like I've been having this dialogue with myself for the better part of 20 years.

You know, the one that goes, I'm not enough.

Fill in every noun that you see fit....I'm not a good enough... ____________ (wife, mother, daughter, friend, runner, writer, small business owner, home owner, homework helper, story book reader, "Go Fish" player)...you see where this is going.

Sometimes, the self-talk is more prevalent when I'm expecting a visit from Aunt Flo and my hormones are all across the board, but most days, the yucky words are tucked deep into my being, only to be pulled out when I'm feeling less than, a little under the weather, or lonely.

And so, I headed out this morning for a 9-mile run.  The weather was stunning.  55 degrees and sunshiny.  Really, a to-die for September day.

Almost exactly one mile into the shebang, I knew that this was going to be a battle and that I needed to pull my big girl pants up because shit was going down.

And sure enough, it did.  Huffing, puffing, unable to efficiently use my breath or to get a grip on my pace, I vowed to quit about every other minute.

Just when I was certain that I was grinding to a halt, I would be flagged down by a friend or a neighbor running through the park or on the trail and think, God damn it...I guess I better keep going.

Literally, with a mile and a half left in the war, I was staring up at the biggest hill of my training course on the busiest street with a million cars coming and going and I thought, I can't.  I just don't have what it takes today....in fact, I'm not sure if I have what it takes most days.

And then, in the middle of the hustle and bustle, a cardinal flew onto a bus stop bench and looked at me as I was struggling to put one foot in front of another.

My grandmother Roberts was a fanatic about these beautiful creatures.  She adored them.  And just as I see him perched waiting for me to greet him, sweat pours into my eyes and they start to burn probably because I'm hallucinating and going into cardiac arrest, and I immediately I think...enough is enough.

If I don't do this at this moment, on this street, with this bird, who will?

If I don't care for these crazy beautiful children even when I want to scream, Uncle, I give...who will go the extra mile?  They only have one mother.

And If I don't take ownership of all the blessings that have been bestowed upon me and my life, who will?

And so, I will show up, every day...not perfectly, maybe not always happily and certainly with more questions than answers, but I will come knowing that whatever I have to give in this moment, at this time will be, and always has been enough.

It was enough today.  I ran 9-miles.  Nine grueling, hard fought miles that I get to claim.  And tomorrow, when I have more or different tricks or tools in this bag, I'll pull them out, but for today...I'm happy to know that enough was enough.

Ode to Claire on Her Third Birthday

I can hardly believe it. 

The day has finally come. 

We've only been talking about it for months.  You've been DYING to turn three years old...ever since you learned that life pretty much begins when you round the bend and officially celebrate your third birthday.  Almost daily, you remind us that when you're three, you can take ballet lessons, go to preschool, sign up for soccer, go potty on the big girl potty, share a room with your big sister, and well...be big.

But, that's the last thing that I want you to become...big.  You, my third child, my last.  My only blonde haired, blue-eyed, doesn't look anything like me and pushes my butons every minute of every day little girl.  You, who is fearless...petite in size, but strong in determination and will.  You, the boundless, crazy at heart, focused and unabashed in your response to the world. amazing one.

You who have learned, probably by virtue of your place in the food chain that in order to be heard, you must yell, have an unwavering opinion coupled with a strong elbow and the will to never let them see you sweat.

As you embark upon this year that you have been so hopeful for...my prayer for you is that you embrace your sass, keep your nerve and know that you are everything I yearn to be when I grow up.

I love you.  I'm exhausted by you.  I'm grateful for you.  And I'm excited to see what a new year brings to the little girl who makes me so proud to be her mama.

To the moon and back, Claire Bear.