A Kick In the Pants

This morning I woke up to my son kicking my butt. You see, when Todd and I got married, having kids was about the last thing on our minds. One of our first major purchases together was our bed, and we went with a queen because we couldn't imagine the thought of sleeping so far apart from each other on a vast expanse of a king. Sigh, yes, we were like that.

Well that was certainly then, when Todd had no idea that he'd be spending the better part of his 30s dreaming about throwing 'bows in an endless game of basketball. (What I wouldn't do for some extra space just to get myself out of the game!) Once we finally began to take parenting on as a serious idea, we were those naive people who think: "Our kids will NEVER sleep in our bed. We will be tough, and besides, OUR kids will sleep through the night." Flash forward to Luke sleeping in our bed last night because he had a bad dream, or at least we think he did. Really, he just collected his blankie and his stuffed monkey and said to me in his sweet, almost three-year-old voice, "I sleep in your bed, Mama," and when it's 3 AM, this mama doesn't argue. Just get me back in the too small bed, playing man-to-man defense as soon as humanly possible.

At 8 AM, I woke up to Luke kicking me in the backside as I was clinging to what was left of a half-way decent dream in my little patch of queen-sized heaven. Todd had surprisingly snuck off to work without a sound, and the two of us were huddled in a little clump. Sports dreaming must run in the family, and in Luke's case, soccer is the sport of choice. As my eyes opened and adjusted to the light (waking up when the sun has already risen is a tasty treat in our house), it dawned on me (pun intended)that today would be the day that I begin a blog. Does it matter that at the time of this revelation my son was using my arse as a soccer ball? Yes, yes it does. I like to think that my family inspires me all the time, and most of the time in ways that are extremely unconventional.

So here is my blog. I'm not really sure what the focus is yet. I named it "It Runs In the Family" because I think I want to write a little bit about being a mom of young kids, my plight of being a struggling runner, and being the wife of an amazing guy who is "dreaming the impossible dream" of making it to the Boston Marathon - - my own Man of Lamancha. None of these things make us super special or important, but I like to write, and I like to make people laugh, so this is my way of doing my thing. I don't know how long it will last or if anyone will read it, and I'm okay with that. If anything, it will serve as documentation for my kids later on that life probably was as crazy as they remember it. So thank you, Lukey, for giving me the motivation I needed, but now you can stay in your own bed. I'm good for awhile.