In our family, we walk
I’m putting everyone to bed at 8pm tonight. That’s in 25 minutes! Yay! Benjamin has been asleep since 7 because sleep training WORKED. He also had a very busy afternoon of playing rugby and Russian kick dancing in the front yard with Lifa. Super weird. I laughed uncontrollably.
But ALL OF THE DAY before the Russian kick dancing was brutal. We’ve got a lot of growing pains going on over here. Including me! I’m so sore from weightlifting that I can’t take a deep breath, and I kept a teething toddler on my hip alllll day today. Benjamin has cut three molars in the past couple of weeks, and one more is on the way. His growing pains are real - but much easier than his brother’s. Lifa is trying to learn how to manage the tension of life according to Lifa and actual life as a part of a family. There was a lot of disappointment and missed expectations there today. So we went on a lot of walks and covered miles of neighborhood, much of it with Lifa’s silent stewing and Benjamin’s telltale teething sound (imagine a drill to your right temple). And let’s not forget my screaming muscles.
But you know what - we walked, and we were together. We talked through a few things. And then I walked the ever-lovin’ everything out of him and the pups in order to quiet the screaming silence, stretch out my sore muscles and get Lifa’s endorphins pumping. Almost every step was painfully silent and emotionally stormy. But we walked, and we were together.
Neither of those boys will remember a single thing I said or did today. The walks will blend into the hundreds of other walks we’ve gone on. But we’re building something with every step. Some days we laugh and tell jokes. Some days we share stories or listen to Benjamin talk to the birds and dogs from the stroller. And some days are bitterly silent. But those boys will know that, in our family, we walk.
In our family, we still walk together when it hurts. We walk together when we are happy and when we are mad. We talk and we walk, and we walk when there’s nothing left to say. But we will always walk.
Even on these days (it’s 7:48- yippee!) I’m overwhelmingly proud of Lifa. I was just telling Chris that he is learning and maturing better than most full-grown adults. He keeps showing up for the walks - broken elbows, broken expectations, and maybe even a hurting heart. He is extraordinary, and, even when we’re in the throes of all the growing pains, I’m am so overjoyed to be the mom that gets to walk through life with him.
