Sunshine

You are my Sunshine

My only Sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are grey

You'll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My Sunshine away

This is Corbett. My how he's grown!



It appears, in spite of all the "You have to eat, if you want to grow up big and tall like Daddy" threats, that even children who don't eat much food will still grow.

This is good, because he really doesn't eat that much. The part that eludes me is how he has the energy to be a ball of non-stop energy. From the time he wakes up until the time he FINALLY goes to sleep, he is constantly on the move.



Corbett is often still awake at 10:30 or 11:00 at night. He goes to bed at 8:30 and talks or sings to himself, then talks to his stuffed animals, and eventually falls asleep. Then, he's up at 6:30, fired up and ready to go.



He is very much like me, that way and frankly, he exhausts me. Hell, Corbett exhausts our dog, and she's a beagle. This is telling. There are very few things that exhaust that dog.

Often, when describing my kids personalities, it is hard to say more about Corbett than "Corbett...well, he's Corbett!" Once you've met him, you just know what I mean.



But here's the thing. When I took the picture above, Corbett kept saying "Sunshine! I'm sunshine!", and you know what? He's right.




He IS sunshine.





Like the sun, when you see Corbett, you can't help but smile. He brightens people's day. Sure, the curly hair and adorable mischeivous smile are a part of it, but its his personality too. He is fun, snuggly and charming. He gives hugs that warm you up all over. He wants to be a part of, and see everything that is going on around him.




But, like the sun, he can be fickle. He is either very very sunny, or he is cloudy and stormy! He switches from one to the other in lightspeed, and it throws me off guard at times.

If you don't pay attention to the sun, you can get burned. With Corbett, if you aren't watching, well, you may soon wish you had been watching. He's GOING to get into something. He's impulsive and he hasn't yet developed the skill of knowing that just because a thought enters your mind, doesn't mean you absolutely MUST act on it.



An exercise in extremes, Corbett can go from laughing and smiling one second to howling in frustration or sadness faster than you can snap your fingers. Kind of like the sun, hiding behind a cloud, only to peek out a few moments later.



Thankfully, more often than not, he is as you see above. Smiling, happy Corbett.

He warms my heart, he gives great hugs. He drives me crazy, and sometimes his mood swings make me worry about his future. He's quirky and he makes me howl with laughter. He does what makes him happy, and doesn't care if people think its weird. Whether he is wearing his shirt backwards, or wearing blue polish on his nails. He does what makes him happy, and that makes ME happy.

He's a great kid. He's my Sunshine.

The Runner's Cheerleader and Lessons Learned

Last night, the kids and I participated in the 20 minute challenge at the Running Room.

Basically the purpose of the event is to encourage people to be active for 20 minutes. Anyone can do that!

The plan was for Zachary and I to run about 5km and for Corbett to ride in the stroller. Being the planner that I am, everything was set the night before--the Chariot stroller was loaded into the trunk, the run clothes were packed.

We were good to go.

Come Wednesday night....it was HOT. HOT and HUMID.

We decided to stick with the plan, but take it nice and slow. Corbett asked if he could run with us and promised he'd keep up. We let him out and off he went. About 100 meters later, he gave up. No surprise there, being "fast" is not his thing. While he was "running" we averaged a 9 minute per KM pace! But, he was having fun, and that's what matters.

Once we got him all settled back in the Chariot, he assumed a new role.

Corbett is probably the best cheerleader for runners ever.

There he was, chilling out in his stroller with his legs crossed, clapping his hands and yelling words of encouragement to everyone we passed, or who passed us!!

"Great job!!"

"Lookin' good!"

"You got this!!"

"GO! GO! GO!"

and one of my personal favorites, "There's a potluck at the store! Go, Go!!!"

Let me tell you, he sure got a lot of smiles and laughs out of all those poor runners, sweating like crazy in the hot, sticky weather!

Which brings me to lessons learned.

When it comes to running with Zachary, I typically let him learn lessons the "hard" way.

He's learning about not starting out too fast on a run by doing just that. He's started out too fast a few times and then struggled to finish.

He's learned that 3 slices of pizza does not make a pre-race meal.

He's learned the value of planning a run around bathroom stops.

The problem is, when you are 8 years old-or any age, for that matter-it is difficult to see the distinction between coach and mom. Or student and child.

Kids love to challenge their parents. They disagree with us just to see what happens. It can be good for them, both to learn to use their voice and to learn their boundaries.

Other times its not so good at all.

A few times before the run, I suggested to Zachary that he have some water and a little bit of food before we leave.

"It's really hot, Zack, you have to make sure you are hydrated. You need lots of water", I suggested.

"I don't want any. I'm fine"

About 10 minutes later, I suggested it again. Five minutes before we were scheduled to take off, I mentioned water again. No go.

Thankfully the lessons he and I learned did not go anywhere near as badly as they could have. What happened was dangerous. It could have been so much worse.

About 2.5km into the run, Zachary said "My heart hurts and I feel dizzy". We immediately slowed to a slow walk. I encouraged Zachary to take some deep breaths and to keep walking slowly, but told him that if he didnt start feeling better soon to let me know right away.

After about 3 minutes, he said he felt fine and wanted to run. I asked him to walk for another few minutes then told him we would run if he still felt okay.

We started to run again at a very leisurely pace. After about 5 minutes, Zachary mentioned that he was dizzy again.

We stopped and slowed to a walk. I told him he had a few minutes, but if he wasn't feeling better he had to get in the stroller. This is not an exciting prospect for either of us--he wants to run, and I don't want to push both kids in that heat, their combined weight is about 115 pounds. But, safety first.

In hindsight, I should have had him get in the stroller right then.

We came to a small, but steep decline. We went single file, with me ahead, as we usually do. The momentum of the stroller meant that I was down the hill pretty quickly, so I turned back to see how Zachary was.

What I saw was my sweet, 8 year old boy, staggering side to side like he was coming back from way too many drinks at a keg party. On a sidewalk alongside a high traffic road.

I ran up the hill, pulling the stroller behind me, until I could grab a hold of him. I basically lifted him with one arm and tossed him in the stroller, then ran the 2km back to the store.

Thankfully, the evening was also a potluck, so there was plenty of water, juice, vegetables, fruit and other drinks and sweets. I just kept telling myself that I had to get him there and he would be fine,

I won't lie. That incident scared the shit out of me. There's nothing quite like the feeling of knowing, that your own actions put your child in danger.

It won't happen again.

So what lessons did we learn?

I hope that Zachary has learned that when we run, I am his Coach. He needs to listen to me just as he does to his Senseis in karate.

I'm there to share knowledge with him, from my own experiences. I'm there to ensure his safety. I'm there to help him be his best. I hope that next time I offer a suggestion, that he trusts my knowledge and does what I ask.

I have learned that even though I am his coach, I am first and foremost his mother. Next time, I'm just going to tell him he has no choice. He's going to drink the damn water.

And, if for any reason, he becomes dizzy again, he goes in the stroller right away. There will always be another chance to run. There will never be another Zachary.