Not Really What You Would Call a Runner

I'm not really a runner. But I like the idea of running. I told myself at the beginning of this year I was going to run some races for exercise. I got the Couch to 5K app on my phone and started training. Well about mile 1.5 into it I realized I did not purchase the app and had downloaded the "short" version of the app and so I thought I was doing really great but really just running the same amount I had the first day. It had looped back around to run 2 mins rest for 5, now that is my kind of running. It almost caused me pause enough to loop right on around back to my couch.

I did continue to run and since we have had such nice weather I have really enjoyed it. I can't really run in our neighborhood, well I can but the police tend to stop white women in new kicks from Fleet Feet, sporting new jogging wear from Target, and ask, "Ma'am are you okay, do you know where you are?" That might partly be because when I run I tend to look like someone who is gasping for air and panicked, same look you get from someone who has just had their purse stolen, so really I don't blame the police.

Exactly.

So my first race came up this past Saturday. The weather was beautiful which was great because my app did not teach me how to run in the rain only sunshine. Preston decided he was going to run the race with me. Which was sweet and fun until we got about halfway to mile marker 1, approx 5 mins in and he looked back at me with this look like, "hey mom, can I go on, because that man with the walker just passed you and I'm getting a little embarrassed." He did not say those words but he didn't have to. So I gave him the nod and he took off. Like so much faster than me that I began to wonder if he had cheated and cut through a side street.

I did take a shower and put on make up for the race. You know, just in case Bob Costas showed up and wanted to interview me. Every year when he commentates the Iron Man I cry. I don't know if it his voice or those people running through that finish line after that incredibly grueling race but I cry.

 I finished, don't even ask because I am not about to tell my time but I finished. And I am really excited about the next one. Now Bennett has gotten the running bug and wants to run. He said, "Mom, I don't know how to ask you this but I want to run with you, but is it okay if we don't run together? Like I might beat you by about 15 min like Preston did."

WHATEVER.

Here is our picture from the race. And let me ask a serious question. If my hair was brown, would I look like Dora the Explorer in this picture? Not telling you which one of my children suggested that, but really?

Dear Crystal Meth User

I am not sure if any Crystal Meth users read blogs. But on the off chance that one happens upon "life in the hamp" (honestly not that far of a stretch to think they might, considering where we live) I would like them to read this letter:

Dear Crystal Meth User,

I would like you to know how you have created great stress, anxiety and a guilt complex to my mundane, not so - suburban housewife mom of 3 life. It is Spring and for us that means that 2 of my family members have terrible allergies. The thick golden yellow that covers our cars also covers their nasal passages and eyes. They wake up unable to breathe well, congested, itchy and quite miserable. But aha! A company created a cure and a respite for my beloved allergy sufferers. Zyrtec D. This is where you come in.

I used to be able to frequent my local drug store or even my counseling center (aka Target) and get Zyrtec D off the shelf. But oh no, not now. Now I have to go to the pharmacist and give them my driver's license, my blood type, my ACT score, and where I have spent the past 24 hours in order to purchase said drug. They question me of my symptoms and this is where it goes south because I'm not the one with the symptoms, so I stumble around over my words and say things like, "well, it is not for me, it's for my "son." And he is super congested." And then I turn all red and blotchy and my palms get sweaty because the way the pharmacist is staring at me makes me feel like I am a stone cold killer the police have put a warrant out for. Then the pharmacist says, "just a minute" and takes my license with her and does something on a computer while I form sweat rings and think "don't drug users sweat a lot?"

Then I look back over my shoulder at my 4 year old who is asking yelling "when we leave here can we go to happy hour?"..at Sonic but she leaves that part out all the while the security guard is making his rounds and headed toward the back of the store. I think for a minute maybe I should make a run for it just forget the Zyrtec, but then I think, well that won't work, the pharmacist still has my license and and that will make this all look REALLY bad. And now she knows my address, which looks so suspicious because I live in the hood. Holy Moly. So I nervously start chewing my nails....then I think, "stop, crap, don't drug users have nervous twitches?'

So I stand there, feeling guilty, like I have done something wrong, or that the computer is going to pull up my last 2 speeding tickets or that time I almost smoked a cigarette in 6th grade in an empty house. The pharmacist comes back and sells me the Zyrtec and I leave the store thinking the Crystal Meth User owes me something.

Yes, you owe me something. I am not sure if it is a cut of your money or doing my laundry for a year but you owe me.

Sincerely,

Crazy Non-drug user

Temporary

Today Bennett Dale Brady turns 9! We cannot believe it. It seems just like yesterday that we were in the hospital holding this new baby boy in our arms. With his redish brown hair and big eyes. Not soon after that redish brown hair all fell out and came back in snow white. He was a cotton top for about the next 5 years and then although it has started to get darker in the past couple of years it has stayed mainly blonde. Especially in the summer, it really lightens up. So my blonde blue eyed boy....until 2 weeks ago that is.

PDS has a tradition in the 2nd grade called Yipes Stripes. Each 2nd grader pulls a president's name out of a hat and then has to do a report on that president. They research the president, do a sandwich style poster board and write a 2 minute speech and dress up as their president when they give their speech. Bennett's president was James Monroe. The 5th President of the United States. What do y'all want to know about this guy...because believe you me we (yes we) can tell you whatever you want to know and more. I'm still not clear on exactly what the Monroe doctrine does but we just made it up the best we could for the speech.

James Monroe's hair was brown. And so Bennett wanted to get into character for his speech and asked if he could dye his hair brown. I said, sure, why not? So I headed to Walgreens in search of a temporary hair dye. Found it, came home and dyed my then 8 year old's hair with it. It has been 2 weeks and we are still brown....brownish red.

He is now washing it twice a day in hopes that it will lighten up quicker....I am not sure. What I am sure about is that I would have never let my first born dye his hair. I am not sure we will ever see that blonde again. Braxton thinks we should just shave his head and see what grows back. I mean technically it was the color that he was born with so who knows. There is a lesson in here somewhere, something about long term consequences for quick "temporary" decisions. I'll keep you posted.

I do think someday we will all sit back and laugh about, "hey, remember that time mom let you dye your hair brown and it turned out sort of red, so you would look like that President?" And everyone will laugh and no one will remember exactly which President it was or what he did. But I will remain the cool mom. At least that is how I play it out in my head.

Happy Birthday Bennett!!! We love you so much and are so proud of you. You are smart, witty and fun to be around. You have great empathy for others and such a kind and sensitive heart. You make a great little brother and a great big brother. As your aunt Lauren would say, "the middle child is the perfect child." We hope you grow to be a God fearing man who uses your gifts and abilities for HIS glory!