I turned 33 last week.
That statement could be interpreted many ways; the obvious absence of an exclamation point should clue you in about how I am feeling, ummmm....less than spectac-u-lar. But age, like the scale, (that demonic device that only feeds my most terrible vice) is just a number. Right?
THIS year is going to be different. THIS is going to be the year that I officially conquer all of my battles: reading my bible daily, spending time in serious prayer, exercising daily, eating better, practicing ALL the fruits of the spirit. I know what you're thinking; that is one TALL order for 365 days. That is why I need help, encouragement, a gentle nudge and reminder that I am human so when I DO fail I will not wallow in self-depreciation any longer than I have to.
So yesterday, Jeff wakes me up by asking, "Are you going to run first, or want me to?" (For authenticity's sake, I left his grammar choices.) I was up every few hours with Josh who still refuses our meek attempts at ferberization, instead craving the warm, cozy, comfort that only my "milkies" provide. The only place I had any interest in RUNNING to was my keurig. So I did, and Jeff left me to my computer and coffee and headed into the cold, and rainy weather that defines this season in NorCal. By the time he returned, sweaty, happy, even perky, I had resolved to attempt a run. In the rain. And the Cold.
I got a little carried away.
"A little carried away" is a Cascio family joke. I tend to get "a little carried away" more often than not. Having some ice cream is a half-hour process of preparation...but that is another story. I ran for ONE HOUR. Sixty-one minutes, to be exact. It was exhilirating and liberating on a level comparable to organizing the garage and finishing cleaning the grout in the shower. Hard work, yes. Worth repeating? Absolutely. But not for a while...anyway.
On another note, Luke just peed. IN THE TOILET! Woo hoo. This may seem inconsequentially trite to those of you sans young children, but it is a victory of magnanimous proportions at our house. We have fallen a little behind in the potty training since Eagle was born...which, I expected, but I'm trying hard to get Luke back on the potty seat; diapers for two heineys are getting a little expensive!
Okay, I have some serious work to do now. English essays don't write themselves! (unfortunately!)