Routine

Five or six mornings a week, I wake up before the sun peeks over the horizon and follow the same routine.  I shake the sleepiness from my body and kick my feet over the side of the bed.  I grab the clothes I laid out the night before and do my best to pull them on with tags facing the right direction. (On a good day, I get it all right on the first try.)  Next, I slip on my running shoes and do the same thing I’ve been doing for nearly 25 years–I run.

I’ve been doing this for so long that it is as natural as breathing, or loving, or crying when reading the book, I’ll Love You Forever.  (Or is that just me?) This part of my day is, in a way, my sanity.  It is food for my often very tired Mommy soul. 

I am a creature of habit.  Routine is my friend.  Seriously, it’s in my DNA.  I sometimes laugh at my Dad’s very habitual lifestyle–until I see I live very much the same way. (Sorry, Dad.) For me, living on the edge is eating ice cream before dinner. (God forbid.) I like routine, structure, and knowing what to expect next.  Surprises are not my friend.

Sometimes, though, surprises are inevitable. 

Saturday night, the five of us took over a local baseball field for a parents vs. kids kickball game.  It was quite the idyllic scene. 

The evening shadows were just beginning to stretch across the field and
the stifling heat of the afternoon sun had begun to subside.  Chad and I
had (quite easily) tagged three kids “out” and were up to kick. (No mercy for the little ones.)

 I kicked first and ran to first base.  Chad was up next and kicked the ball right toward second base.  I left my spot on first and sprinted toward second base.  I watched as Charlie almost, but not quite, caught the ball, and knew I had to push to be “safe”.  I jumped toward second base and my flip-flopped feet landed resulting in a painful POP in my knee.

That’s all it took.  I knew I was done.  I hobbled off the field and watched from the sidelines.  Over the last 36 hours I’ve done the typical methods of recovery–RICE and hoped for a miraculous healing so I could follow my typical routine. 

No such luck.  As Chad and I passed each other going our separate directions this morning he looked at me curiously, are you running this morning?  I shook my head and noticed his look of surprise as if to say, you’re veering from your routine?! 

I did.  Instead of running this morning I decided to come to this space.  It’s a different kind of therapy.  Instead of pounding my feet against the ground, I pound my fingers on the keyboard.  As I sit at my desk now, in the quiet of the morning, I notice the sounds of the birds singing their first tunes of the day.  As I gaze out my office widow I see, I mean I really see, darkness surrenders to the light of day.  Today, instead of thinking about miles and splits, I watch the way the fog very slowly lifts over the valley out my window.  Just down the hill I watch as two horses linger together grazing on the dew soaked grass. 

This morning I notice how this break from normal routine offers gifts I never expected.

We are just over a week into our summer break.  If I’m being honest, as the final days of school wound down, I found myself feeling a bit anxious.  How were our days going to look?  How will Charlie’s presence change the dynamic the girls and I had established?  Will they be at each others throats?  How will I keep them entertained?  We have a pretty established routine–how will that change? 

I lamented about this to Chad for a few weeks leading up to the last day of school.  He listened, but said little.  Maybe he knew what I didn’t–it would be just fine.  Turns out, our break from the normal routine has been a beautiful thing.

Instead of our typical morning rush of breakfast, dressing, and bus stop, we’ve been slow, deliberate, and found enjoyment in just being together.

We’ve traded our scheduled lives for a more laid back vibe which has allowed for an abundance of laughter, enjoyment, and creative fun. . .

She finally lost her tooth!!!

Instead of having three kids who I feared would be at each others throats, we’ve had three kids who have chosen to sprawl out on bedroom floors together for the night. . .

. . . because being together is more fun than being apart.

Don’t hear me wrong–we’ve had our moments.  We haven’t had perfection (what’s that?), but we’ve had such a wonderful time just being us–outside of our schedules and routines. . .

With all the evidence laid out before me on this quiet Monday morning I can hardly deny the truth. . .

Sometimes, a break from routine is exactly what I need and bring along the most beautiful of gifts.

Wishing each of you a very Happy Monday!

*************************************************

I want to say thank you to all of you who wished us a Happy Anniversary and for cheering Chad on in his blog Hi-jack posts.  I am so grateful to share this life with a man who makes me laugh and is a genuinely good guy.  We celebrated 13 years just as any couple would. . .

. . . dinner for 5.