Busy but good weekend at the Faulk house. Because Wes works on Sundays, he has Fridays off, which means that Thursdays are our Fridays. (Clear as mud?) This was especially true this past week because Duncan Public Schools, for some inexplicably wonderful reason, cancelled classes on Friday. So Thursday? Was so totally Friday in every way possible.
We began our Friday (Thursday, if you’re being all technical about it) with Muffins for Mom at Ana’s school. Emma wasn’t invited on account of her not being Ana’s mother and all, so she took her Vreader to Wes’s office, where she left it untouched and spent the better part of an hour telling him that she was Duffy Bear. (Or as she says it, “Dussy Bear!”) Ana and I had a lovely time together, listening to storybooks, sipping tea, and eating muffins. Or, in her case, pushing the tea away and picking at the muffins. She gave me a bag full of precious handmade gifts, then took it from me so she could show everything to Emma later. (She lamented the fact that Emma wasn’t there with me, but it was probably the best thing for the mental health of her classmates who say, every time they see A&E together that, “There are TWO Anas, Mrs. Kelly!” Scary, scary stuff.)
Thursday was also a rest day in our running schedule. And, boy, did I need it. On Wednesday, the schedule called for a four mile run, and I was intent on doing it in under forty minutes. I put on my new shoes and took off, noticing around the first mile that my left ankle was getting rubbed a lot. By the second mile, the rubbing had progressed to chaffing, and by the third mile, it was hurting a wee bitty bit. At this point, I considered going “Namibian” (a few of my Namibian friends swear that they run faster barefoot than they do with shoes on, even in gravel) to ease the problem, but because I was timing myself, I kept on going with the shoes on, not wanting to stop. When I finished up the fourth mile just after forty minutes (woo-hoo!), I looked down to see blood everywhere (woo… boo.) My shoes had rubbed a hole straight through my skin, people. A hole! I took my shoe and sock off and walked back home, where Emma met me at the door with an incredulous, “Did your shoe fall-ded off?!” Yes, it did. It fall-ded off after it bit a hole in my ankle. Carnivorous shoes!
Anyway, I was glad for the rest. And by the time Saturday and a six mile run rolled around, I was able to cover up the hole and run without flinging my shoe off and bleeding all over our neighborhood. When I got home and Wes double-checked my route online for me, we discovered that I had actually run more than six miles. I had run my first ever 10K! With a hole in my ankle!
The weekend was relaxing, after we got through our first mow of the season. It’s amazing that we were able to put it off until May but not nearly as amazing as the fact that I was able to bag up two super-sized garbage bags full of Charlie’s mess. (And by “mess,” I mean all of the stuff he’s chewed up in the backyard, not poo. Although there was more of that back there than I could have possibly imagined beforehand.) The people who lived here before us enjoyed burying strange things in the yard for some reason (tin metal, roof shingles, tarps, wood of every shape and size), and Charlie has delighted in digging it all up for us. He cleared one area efficiently enough that we were able to see a layer of SEASHELLS in the dirt. In Oklahoma. (No need to take the girls to the beach now. They can do their shell collecting right out back by the AC unit!) I’m confident that one day very soon, Charlie will unearth a T-Rex skeleton, which we’ll sell to a natural history museum, thereby earning the honor of telling the world that our German Shepherd paid for our girls’ college educations. Keep on digging, Charlie!
All that said, the yard looks lovely now. And we were able to get the work done early enough in the day that we had all afternoon to spend at the neighborhood playground with the girls and Charlie. At one point Wes hooked Charlie’s leash up to the merry-go-round and let him pull the girls. That lasted all of five seconds because Charlie? Runs faster and pulls a lot harder than Wes or me, believe it or not. The girls were twirling super fast before Charlie even got up to his full speed. Yikes!
At some point in the adventure, Emma’s flip flops gave her a really awful blister. What is it with Faulkettes and new shoes?! She got out of bed in the middle of the night, came to find me, and stopped in the hallway, screaming at glass-shattering decibels because of the pain. Poor baby! The next morning, she refused to walk, so we took it easy. Ana was even kind enough to cuddle up and play games on Papi’s iPod with her. (But never actually let Emma hold the iPod. Even generous sweetness has its limits.)
By Sunday morning, Emma was able to walk again without any trouble. While walking into church, she told me, “Mommy, Jesus made me walk again!” Well, it’s biblical and all. Hallelujah! We had a great day at church and a great time celebrating Mother’s Day. Wes got me the best book I’ve read in a long while, and the girls got me a Disney jigsaw puzzle. While they were shopping, Papi bought Emma Wall-E, a movie she has long coveted. So, when anyone asked Emma what she got Mommy for Mother’s Day, she was quick to tell them, “I got WALL-E!” Because receiving trumps giving, after all. She sure looked adorable while saying it, though!
Perhaps the best gift of all came last night when Ana said, “I would like to run with you.” I told her I’d be happy to take the jogging stroller out on the next run, and she said, “Not in the stroller. I want to run, too!” I got a little lump in my throat as I thought about running with the girls on a regular basis, maybe one day fifteen years from now running a marathon with them, crossing the finish line hand in hand, sobbing in one another’s arms because we did it together… then Ana added, “But I will need my own music to run. Because if I have no music, then I just cannot go very fast.” I considered this for a moment, then said, “So, what you’re saying is that you need your own iPod.” A nod, a sigh, and, “Yeah.” Well, who doesn’t need their own iPod, right? (Perhaps part of this was due to the all the fun she had playing games on Papi’s iPod… hmm…)
And just so you know, I’m entirely convinced that if she does indeed get that iPod (not likely), she’ll be able to outrun me on her little stick thin four year old legs. You know, since I have a hole in my ankle.