Hiding

Yes, I am here because I should be doing something else.  I'm taking a few minutes off from being a grown-up. I'd like to be cocooning somewhere, welcoming in fall while wrapped in a blanket in front of a fireplace and reading, or something.  Whine.

Q's had some trouble sleeping over the last couple of weeks.  I'm hoping it was the virus he seems to be over now.  I do not do middle of the night on call mommy like I once did.  I may be slightly past my peak in that regard.  Whine.

Perhaps what I really need to do is three good things.  Yes.  If I were a grown-up, which I will not be for another three minutes, that is what I would do.  (She sits, still, waiting for the time to elapse...)

Okay. 

First, some amazing contacts have been made lately.  County and state developmental disability people are just incredible.  Good things are afoot and miracles abound. 

Second, school is going pretty well for all concerned.  Some of us have some speed to pick up, some of us have some organizing to do (spreadsheets are a girl's best friend), but overall, wow.  Q loves Preschool.  S loves her new math book.  K loves the opportunity to be silly with her English.  E loves thinking about never having to do schoolwork ever again.  And G loves that one day he won't have to discuss Latin or Algebra or writing with me ever again.  And I'm a little bit floored at how quickly those days are approaching.  Yikes!

Third, time with the kids.  We've been running together, averaging three times a week, using the Couch to 5K layout.  The app for the iTouch is pretty cool - K and I have made playlists for the runs and the C25K app shuffles the songs for us and then rings bells at us and hollers "WALK" or "RUN" when it's time to switch out the interval.  It is an experience that sort of knocks me over, running with them.  We start out all together, so we can hear the music in the cheap little clip-on speakers that hang from the back of Q's chair.  We can't make it too very loud, or Q will go deaf and people who pass by us will get snippy, but too soft and no one can hear the bells and voice or the music, both of which we've all decided we have to have or we just won't make it.  As we warm up and then run, we spread out a bit.  G's legs are so incredibly long, he can outlope us all and make us look just silly.  S's legs are so short, comparatively, but she runs hard and often passes some or all of the rest of us.  And whomever is pushing Q has harder work to do - usually me - and mostly ends up in the middle, trying not to lose sight of anyone.  We begin in a clump, cheery and full of extra wind, so that anyone more than a few steps away will be brightly hollered at when it's time to run:  "We're running!"  By the second round it's, "Running,"  and by the third a flat, "Run."  This cracks me up every single time, though I'm not laughing because I'm too busy gasping, "Cool down!"  So when we're out there, and I'm watching them moseying around a track or down a trail, I think about how blessed I am to be there with them, watching them do this cool thing, and participating in their growing up.  It's so big that it's almost too much, like accidentally getting an eyeful of the sun itself.  It makes the runs feel short indeed.

I'm heading to bed because I can.  :o)  Hope you're getting good rest and plenty of renewal.

P.S. We helped some friends last week who had flooding in their house.  I still don't have words to express how horrifying it is to see a home so terribly disrupted.  And I cannot imagine having to be the people in charge of whipping various subcontractors and insurance issues into shape so they will all produce what has to be a livable space once again.  It's heartrending and completely overwhelming. They could use your prayers, and probably some dinner if you're in the area.