The starting line

It was a thousand degrees last Thursday—well more like the 500th day of over 100 degree temps (I have a tendency to exaggerate)—and I found myself doing the geographical single mom dance all over San Antonio. I started grad school the night before, and as usual I was “one of five thousand” whose blackboard accounts was “having technical difficulties”. I needed to be downtown to get the IT issue fixed (problems with technology require me to physically hand over my laptop and admit that I am clueless), take my daughter to swim lessons, pick up my other daughter from volleyball tryouts, drop my son off at soccer, and somewhere find the time to feed them all dinner (apparently, telling kids to go forage for food is not an appropriate response in this century). I was seriously starting to feel the pressure of life—and it was only week one of the back-to-school insanity. I still needed to work, write, do my homework, make sure that someone fed the dog, run, and get the kids to all their bajillion activities. Piece of cake, right? Wrong.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this self-inflicted chaos I forgot to take time and breathe. My youngest had just started kindergarten, and I did the usual snap-a-photo-for-the-scrapbook-that-I-will-never-have-time-to-get-to and sprinted home to start my work. Life was starting to revolve at an alarming rate, and it became clear to me—that although hopping off the wild ride was not an option continuing at the breakneck pace would probably eventually kill me. Heck, I learned early on in my running days that life was more like a marathon than a sprint, and you had better pace yourself accordingly.

Glancing at my kids (through the rearview mirror as I sped down I-35), I realized that all moments—even the ones that pass by in the rush of a tornado need to be treasured. Sometimes it is when life is at its busiest—when we don’t have the time to take three kids to the SeaWorld on a moment’s notice—that we really appreciate how lucky we are. Yes, it would be nice to turn on the TV and figure out if ER is still on the air, but it has to be more amazing knowing that my family has dreams—including me!—and we are all doing everything possible to make those goals a reality. I may not have time to cook elaborate meals or guarantee that we have hit every food group in every meal… but heck, that’s what V8 juice is all about. Life is a wild ride, and sometimes it takes stepping out of your comfort zone to realize that every breath we take is a gift from heaven. And to those who dare questioned the mad skills of an Army Wife, I can only say this…. Army Wives don’t stop when they are tired. They stop when they are done.

(It may not be Nora Roberts... but I can't wait to get started!)