Running for 6 year-olds

Most Saturday mornings at 7:15am you’ll find me headed out for a run.  No, I’m not insane, and no, I don’t have a thing for grey mornings and drizzle, or the dull damp sweat that follows.  It’s near impossible to glisten after a morning’s run in UK winter.

The kids know this is my routine because that’s what it is- my routine, my window for health and fitness, my time to work my body and air my mind.  They’ve grown up seeing me do it, and their dad also runs a fair bit too.

And from early on, they’ve gotten involved.  What are you doing mommy?  I can do that stretch too!  Or M’s approach: how about a stretch with a toddler airplane on your leg? I can report it doesn’t intensify the stretch, it just causes damage.

At nearly 6, C has decided to grow the family running party and has begun asking to go on runs!  In the last few weeks she’s done three with Chris, and her lithe little legs are clocking an 11 minute mile.  He’s keen to carry on these father/daughter runs, but I’m sure we ladies will go for a jaunt together soon enough.

What’s fantastic is that she’s genuinely enjoying it, and is the one asking us to take her.  Be it youthful energy, interest, endorphins, whatever, she has none of the hesitations about just getting her foot out the door.  On that, I should take notes.

Randomly and since this new trend, a couple of different friends have told us their daughters of a similar age have either been for a run or have asked to go on one.  Maybe it’s about this time that they’ve got the attention and stamina to commit to a jog.

Chris has now been talking about taking C to our local 2k Junior Parkrun but she seems a little hesitant to run en masse.  I have visions of a colleague’s young daughter in floods of tears on a sports course because she clearly didn’t want to be there and I don’t want to be that parent.  So if she tries it, it will be because she’s up for it.

For now, it’s family jogs for us.  I’m interested to see if she’ll inherit her dad’s competitive spirit or my metronomic pacing.  I imagine it’s only a matter of time until M wants to trot along too!

Do you run with your children?  Any tips?

 

 

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Friday Funnies: only 1 wife

M may often talk robot or become all consumed by his car track when I chatting to him about the ways of the world.  But low and behold he is listening, as new evidence from our childminder presents.  Of course this story is related to marriage, because that seems to be one of my children’s favourite subjects to riff on…

Babysitter: M, you lucky boy!  You get to next to your girlfriend Isabella!  She’s back from her holidays today.

M: No, she’s only my friend.  (seriously)

Babysitter: Oh, that’s not what you said before!

M: Well, mommy said I can’t marry two girls ….Don’t tell Isabella, but I’m going to marry Hope!

I’m glad I’m not talking to myself.  Maybe our next chat will be about not toying with girls’ affections! 🙂

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Taking stock

We’ve moved!  There was last minute drama, there was stress and even some tears.  But now that the deed it done, it feels right.

I now write from our Charlie and Chocolate Factory-esque reception room housing our table, our air bed, a couple of chests of drawers, our sofas, our Christmas tree and a number of suitcases and brown boxes stacked at the perimeter.  The couple who lived here previously had serious affection for textured, coloured wallpaper and artex so we’re on the cusp of decorating upstairs before moving into the bedrooms.

It was mad seeing our home of 10 years dismantled before our eyes.  As we boxed everything up, reminders of our pre-children life surfaced – scrap boxes of gig tickets and traveling photos, my Pilates scrapbook, Chris’ half created box of canvases and paints, the discarded start of my first novel- precipitating a dose of nostalgia.

I like to think of it as the past inspiring the present.  Maybe it’s time to revisit that novel draft (now that I’ve written my first children’s book – still no agent but I’m trying), who’s to say I can’t tackle a novel!

Once a friend (male, 20s, no kids) asked me what it was like after C was born.  The question caught me a little off guard as I navigated the myriad of thoughts that sprang to mind…the relief she was out…the love….the awful lochia no one warned me about…the fact we promised ourselves that we wouldn’t change with a child, but had to readjust, now responsible for another human being.  I’m pretty I focused on this last point.

In taking stock of my life over the past 10 years, I see a story of a family that’s grown from two early 20s newly married nutters with more freedom than we realised to a crazy scrumming loving family with more responsibilities but still our zest.  I always say a happy mom and happy dad make for happy kids, and I’m pleased that Chris and I haven’t lost our individual essence over the years, even if some of our interests have become latent.

This move’s proving a good chance to stir the pot methinks.  Plus it’s 2016, and resolution time…

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Friday Funnies: Too much information

Maybe it’s the American in me, but I’m a sharer.  Don’t get me wrong, I can keep a secret, and I definitely don’t broadcast all my business with abandon.  But I write this blog after all.  And whether it’s admitting feeling overwhelmed by aspects of our current house buying process, to discussing my definition of true love while commuting or regaling friends with the saga of my itchy armpit I’d say that I’m comfortably open in areas where many are not.

C seems to have inherited this trait in flying colours, and has developed quite the penchant for TMI, particularly while at school.  Recently her head teacher jokingly suggested to us that we have no secrets after C entertained her teachers and peers with stories of our broken down car.  Here are a couple of her latest gems…

Yesterday we had our parent/teacher meeting where C’s ‘holiday poem’ was shared.  It was a creative descriptive piece where she freestyled on what the holidays mean to her.  C’s read something like this:

I can feel the heat from the fire.

I can taste scrumptious cookies. 

I can hear the clinking of wine bottles 

The clinking of wine bottles!  Way to paint a picture of our nurturing home (though technically not inaccurate)!

Then, she decided to share M’s birth stories with her teacher and TA on the way back from a field trip this past week.  I mean I’ve shared it here on the blog  but this is a blog of my parenting adventures!  She was very proud of her storytelling skills.

I sat next to my teachers on the bus and told them all about how M was born into the toilet!  Hahahahaha!

I can only imagine the looks that were exchanged.

TMI.

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Friday Funnies: Daddy and Mommy

Here’s a typical random conversation that I had with M this evening.  At 3.5 years he alternates from being incredibly insightful and articulate to babbling nonsense like the village idiot.  And sometimes he just. won’t. listen. and that can be really trying when you’ve said the same thing about 15 times.  Tonight he relentlessly ignored me until I finally shouted at him and then I felt bad….other times like this he just makes me laugh.

M: Why is daddy so cheeky?

Me: Why?

M: Because he’s a silly boy.  He’s funny and he’s mackey.

Me:  Mackey?

M: Yeah. Mackey means good.  He’s not lomba.  Lomba means bad.

Me: Ok…. (I have been known to make up my own words…maybe he is just following in my footsteps)

M: Why is mommy nice?

Me: Why? (with anticipation)

M: Because mommy is very beautiful.

Me: Aww thanks M.

M: Why is it so gassy in here? (delighted)

Me: Did you gas?

M: Hahahahahahaha I did!  I did a gas!  Scuse me! (typical boy)

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