This week...what a week. Well, let's start the story of this week from the beginning.
I ran my first half marathon since before I was pregnant!
I had been running pretty regularly for a few months, and trained with my dear friend (also an Emily), who is super fast. I ran my best Bloomsday time and felt stronger than ever. Then the week after Bloomsday, I was walking at work and felt my pelvis crack. My body is still recovering from pregnancy/childbirth, and I felt a little discouraged this was happening 17 months later. It was hard for me to walk after this, let alone run, and I had huge amount of anxiety about running a half marathon in this condition - but I paid $90 to run it, so I wasn't about ready to give up!
Since I didn't get a chance to train further than 8 miles, I started the half marathon slow and steady, and I ended with a decent time. I have mixed emotions about this accomplishment. The day was hot, the course was obnoxious, it was lonely running all by myself, and although my official finish time was not my worst time, it was my second worst. However, I am happy to report that my pelvis stayed in one piece, and my dad finished his first half marathon that day!
Tuesday morning I brought Everett to his 18 month checkup. He jumped up so high on the charts that the nurse had to measure him twice to make sure it wasn't a mistake! Any mother of a small baby knows the feeling of accomplishment when this happens!
Remember how I word vomited my thoughts on parenting a toddler? I asked the doctor for any professional advice she was willing to share, and this was her response, "I've been watching the way you interact with him, and you are doing a perfect job! You are already doing everything I would recommend."
I'm not slowly killing my child! Of course, I felt elated and rewarded myself with a pint of ice cream from the Scoop. Then...
If you follow me on Instagram you know what happened the next morning. I was laying down while playing with Everett. He was standing over me horsing around and I remember thinking, "How the heck did he get that?" Famous last words.
Everett was holding one of these...
He looked at it closely, decided he didn't care, then dropped it like an uninteresting toy. Unfortunately it landed on my head. I didn't curse, I didn't scream, but I did cry. Then I started bleeding everywhere, so I rushed myself to Urgent Care to get stitches. Jeff stayed home with Everett because he was so upset, and I knew watching me bleed at the doctor would be even more traumatic.
Later that night, for the first time Everett said, "I love you Mommy."
And that, my friends, is parenting in a nutshell. You feel like a failure, you feel the bliss of success, your child gives you a concussion, and then he does something so sweet that your heart is bursting with joy!