Running, Life and Writing Books

I ran my first half marathon this Sunday. Not something I had ever wanted to do, but I got talked into it, and so, once I committed, i had to follow through. It took me about 2 hours, 45 minutes, so I had a lot of time to think. It occurred to me that running a race is a whole lot like pursuing any dream....

1.) It takes discipline- You've got to train. It's a lot easier if you do.

2.) You're bound to hurt some- Mile 10? Oh my word! I thought my bottom was literally going to fall off! And walking afterwards, I looked like a little, old lady. But it was still very much worth it.

3.) You'll pull strength from places you didn't know you had it- Even though I was dying, when I heard the DJ broadcasting about 1/4 mile from the finish, I broke into a dead sprint. Where the heck did THAT come from? Or the determination in mile 7 when it was all uphill. Didn't know I had it in me.

4.) There will be surprises- like when the scale says I GAINED 7 pounds instead of losing. (Personally, I think it's time to get a new scale).

5.) If there are people in wheelchairs competing, as well as blind people running with seeing partners, and I am whole and healthy, I need to shut my mouth and stop complaining. Seriously.

6.) Staying the course and crossing the finish is the best feeling EVER!- 'Nuf said.

7.) And finally, my most favorite-

IF IT WERE EASY, EVERYBODY WOULD BE DOING IT.

So if you've got a dream, what are you waiting for????

Yours, thinking I actually might be hooked on this running gig,

Melissa

Friday Funny- She's Gonna Kill Me!

This past weekend I was reminded of one of my favorite childhood memories. I can't help but laugh (nearly out loud) every time I think about it.

I grew up going to a larger full gospel church in the city. Although it was a larger church, we had kind of a core group that became like family. All the kids hung out together and we shared a lot of meals together. There was one family that had eight children and the mom was very used to disciplining on a constant basis- so much so, that it really didn't matter if you were her child or not. If you were out of line, and within reach, you would be corrected by her. This was an age when this form of discipline was acceptable. It was more like being chastised by your aunt, and everyone was okay with that. And as one of the kids, you knew better than to get out of line within her reach. That was just part of the rules of the game.

We went to church on Sunday morning for more teaching and reading and Sunday evening was more for music/worship and prayer. About 50 adults would sing in the choir and I was constantly amazed at how just one look of stink eye could silence even the more rebellious teenagers in the back. It was a well known fact that if your mom or dad had to walk out of the choir pit and off the platform and into the area you were sitting, well, you were about to meet Jesus, and not through ANY form of prayer. On this particular Sunday-go-to-meeting night, we had a special musical guest. It was some band, I don't even remember the name. But they were stepping it up a notch and were laying down quite a groove in the church. Everyone was clappin' and singing and having a good time.

Little Jimmy, one of the youngest of the eight in that family, well, I just don't know what he was thinking. I mean, really, if your mother was 5'10'', big boned and had the reach of Stretch Armstrong,one would think that would be enough to quell most mischievous thoughts, let alone actions. The band is playing, and the sax player starts rippin' out fabulous this improv solo. It was along the style of Chuck Berry with a Johnny B. Good feel. Little Jimmy decided he was going to take things a step further and started dancing. Not completely uncommon in church, except that he decided to get in the middle aisle and start vigorously doing The Twist. Clearly, he was not being "moved by the Spirit", but just having himself a good time.

He didn't even have time to get "The Look". Without warning, Jimmy's mom was down from the choir pit and in one fell swoop snatched him up and began carrying him to the back of the church to the "Cry Room". While this room was used for babies and toddlers who were unsettled, we who had visited that room after our infancy knew there was an entirely different definition to "The Cry Room". Well, I don't know how Little Jimmy did it, but as his Momma was carrying him out, he managed to get out of her stronghold and he raced down the middle aisle, got to the front, dropped to his knees at the altar, threw his hands in the air and cried out:

"Pray for me preacher, 'cause she's gonna KILL me!"

Even the preacher couldn't hold it together. One by one, we gave way to sidesplitting laughter. The pastor, laughing the hardest, nearly fell out of his seat in the pulpit.

Yours, hoping you have a wonderful, fun Friday!

Melissa

Tuesday Debate- To spank or not to spank?

So we are working with discipline issues. Who isn't? Here in the B household, we have come to the age where discussion is seemingly having an effect. (Notice the use of the word "seemingly". I'm not completely convinced yet, but willing to give it a try). We use a lot of different tactics, from revoking privileges to extra chores (I LOVE child labor, because I hate scrubbing floors, windows and toilets!). These punishments are usually given for breaking rules.

We have, particularly when they were much younger, used spanking occasionally.  I know- some of you are already horrified. Our method is the "swat method". . .  there is some discussion and then one or two swats, depending on the level of defiance. And yes, this was reserved for absolute defiance.

Case in point: When Z1 was 2, we lived in the city. We always told him,"DO NOT. RUN OUT. INTO THE ALLEY." Those cars would zip by so fast, I knew they would never see his little body in time. So one day, hubby and I got him out of the car and stood him on his little legs. He looked right at me, got that "I'm gonna be a stinker" glimmer in his eye, and ran right for the alley. Hubby ran right after him, promptly told him no and landed a swat right on his bottom. And you know what? He never did it again. I'm not saying that swat was the absolute end all answer for that situation, but for that particular thing, it worked. 

  Have you ever spanked your child? Why or why not? What's the reasoning and the goal behind it? I'd like to hear from a myriad of parents to see what the consensus is. . .

  Yours, considering this whole spanking thing,

Melissa