​The universe sure works in mysterious ways. 
 
This morning as I was heading out for my run with the dog I was contemplating whether or not I felt prepared to run the Seattle Half Marathon in few weeks.  My longer runs haven’t felt as strong as they have in the past, and then being sick this last week I felt even less prepared. 
 
By the time I arrived at the end of the street I had decided I would at least attempt it.  I might have to walk a portion of the race, which I have never done, but I would go for it.
 
The dog and I ran one of our normal routes.  Milo being a little more excited than I. I, on the other hand, was a little more tentative with my footing after last night’s storm.  I was particularly careful not to land on any fallen branches or one of the thousand pine cones covering the ground.  That is, until we were seconds away from walking through the front door.  We were across the street from our house when I saw the other neighborhood labradoodle approaching.  He’s a puppy and Milo is terribly trained, so I was prepared for mayhem.  What I wasn’t prepared for was the pinecone squarely placed under my left landing foot. 
 
Within a nanosecond of my foot landing on the pinecone, my ankle rolled in a terrible way and I instinctively placed my hands out to brace my fall.   Why is it we try to catch our fall on ragged cement with the flesh of our palms???
 
I can only imagine how ugly and ridiculous this fall looked, because the wonderful lady with her dog seemed very concerned. Bless her heart though, she stayed on the opposite side of the road with her doggie.  She and I both knew full well having the two dogs meet up would be a disaster, especially considering my dog was still harnessed to the leash wrapped around my waist.  I sat and cried for a few moments, until I was able to call my husband to help me into the house.  There are many times I am aware of my size compared to his, and asking him to help me off the ground this morning was no exception.  I did my best limit using him for support.  The last thing we needed was for me to cause him a back injury.   He was wonderful though.  He helped me get my ankle elevated and on ice, fed me some Alieve and ran to the store for other medical items.
 
I’ve been in bed the entire day elevating my leg with ice and compression.  It feels loads better than it did right after it happened, but I think the race is out of the question.  I’m okay with this.  I just want to be sure there aren't any long term effects from a stupid pine cone, two adorable Labradoodles and one clumsy middle aged woman.
 
The good news, I FINALLY had time to write a blog.
 
You can always find reasons to feel grateful.  :)

Today is my son’s 18th birthday.  When my husband and I were discussing what to get him for his present Ryan suggested we give Austin his first bill.  “Yes, we know water is free and it falls from the sky, but now that you are an adult you get to pay for it.  Happy Birthday!!!”  I have to say I liked this idea better than getting him a hooker.

Truth is, it’s been super challenging to find a gift that somehow equates to the gift my son gave me 18 years ago.  Sure…I could have done without the 23 hours of complicated labor, his ginormous head stuck in my birth canal, and the emergency C-section.  But once that was all said and done, I was given the most beautiful present in the world, an 8lb 6oz cone-headed baby boy. 
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The doctor held him up and said “What do you think mama?”   Words cannot come close to describing what I felt in that moment.   
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For the first four hours of Austin’s life I could not hold my cone headed baby boy.  I was still suffering from several side effects from labor.  But I distinctly remember my son being passed around from family member to family member with love and admiration.  I remember my older sister feeding me ice chips and my mom calling my younger sister on the phone to excitedly share the news.  I remember the loving expressions on my parent’s faces as they looked down at their second grandson.  

​Their face expressions on November 2, 1997 were in distinct contrast to what their faces reflected two months prior. 

It was only two months prior they found out I was pregnant.  I hid my pregnancy for seven months.  As I gained weight and my belly grew my parents would ask “Are you sure you’re not pregnant??”  I denied it over and over again, telling them it was just Burger King.  This was only a partial lie.  I was pregnant, but I was also eating a lot of Burger King.  I don’t know when I planned on telling them.  It was kind of my way back then, deny and face things only when I had to.

When my parents finally found out I was pregnant it wasn’t because I told them.  My mom opened the ultrasound bill from the hospital.  My dad hadn’t even made his way through the kitchen door after arriving home from work when my mom said to him, “Jill’s pregnant.”  I still remember his face.  He closed his eyes, threw back his head and let out a pained sigh. 

I was 22, still in college and unprepared for this big life change.  I remember laying in my bed one day so afraid of what was to come, and then I heard my grandma’s voice.  She had passed away a few years earlier and yet her voice was as clear as if she were laying in the bed next to me.  She said “Everything will be okay.”

She was right, but everything was better than okay. 
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I was lost before I had Austin.  Days were spent in college classes, uncertain why I was there or where I was headed.  Nights were spent with a beer pitcher at a local karaoke bar.   But when I held my baby, my purpose became very clear.  My purpose was to be a mom.  Austin was the greatest gift to me back then, and he has continued to be a gift every day of his life.

Prior to my pregnancy my parents had been renting out my grandma’s house, but the renters were moving out a few weeks before I delivered Austin.  Divine intervention?  Perhaps.   My parents let us live in this house only asking us to pay a small stipend for rent.  Family helped to provide us with household items.  Friends and family threw me baby showers and gifted us all the necessary things we would need in the months to come.  After Austin was born my loving sister-in-law watched Austin when I needed to attend class. 

Life was hard and yet easy all at the same time.  My life fell into place when my baby boy was born.  It was as if all my questions were answered between our two beating hearts.

He has taught me so many things.  Love without limits.  Laughter without containment.  Silliness without regard.  Hope without restraint.  Purpose without question.

Sometimes these lessons were easy and sometimes they came with a cost.  He taught me patience when he threw his two year old body on the ground and banged his head against the floor because he couldn’t have his way.   He taught me it is okay to leave a grocery cart full of food in the middle of the store during such tantrums.  Someone will put all the groceries away.  He taught me how much fun a little boy can have playing ‘claw’ with the foot of a dead crow.  He showed me how to play video games while standing up and balancing excitedly on your tippy toes.  He taught me when you are tired of that you can watch Thomas the Train move around the track until you fall sound asleep.  He taught me to never ever fart in Costco or you just might poop your pants a little bit.  He taught me that stuffed animals have feelings and they all deserve their rightful spot sleeping on the bed.  He taught me it will always be my fault that I let him grow his hair out long during middle school, even though "the chicks dig it." 

The moment I became a mom I decided I wanted to be the best version of me.  Every meaningful day in my life started when that baby boy took his first blood curdling scream.   I wanted to be a good mom…for him and later for his beautiful sister.  In return, he has been an amazing son.  It goes without saying he is also an incredible brother, grandson, cousin, nephew and friend.  
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So no, there is not one gift in this whole wide world that will come close to the gift he has given me every single day for the last 18 years.