A different sort of lucky

On St. Patrick's Day, Mike and Rose came to support me at my first half marathon in over a year. Last year in October I was pretty sure I'd never have time to get to half marathon fit again. So I was was pleased and lucky to be in that shape just six months later.

Rose wasn't too pleased about getting up at 6:30 a.m. to support her mom, but a little hot chocolate bribe wiped away her morning grumpies.

The whole family came out except our kitty, Princess. Mike, Eddie, Moxie and Rose planned to meet me at mile 5. It was a turn back course, so they planned to stay put at mile 5 and see me again at mile 8. Mile 5 came, and they weren't there. I worried a bit. My running buddy pointed out they probably couldn't get parking fast enough. That made sense.

Mile 8 came, and they weren't there. My running buddy was feeling under the weather so we parted way, and I couldn't stop worrying. From about mile 8 to miles 13 I couldn't erase the image of Rose acting up, Mike losing his mind and throwing her off the river bluffs, and I getting back to the finish line to see my husband being put into a squad car.

I thought I would never forgive myself for encouraging the adoption that pushed Mike that far. I would end up in a mental facility for life, I reasoned. What's even crazier is these were all serious thoughts.The images were vivid. Rationally, I know Mike wouldn't hurt Rose. Perhaps my brain was hitting a wall after the long run in the unusually warm March weather.

Cause there they were, waiting at the finish line. They were anchored down by an arthritic Eddie but excited to see me.  It made me feel lucky. Yet, not in the "It's a Wonderful Life" realization kind of way. The entire incident made me aware of how anxiety ridden I am still. That even though I'm back to pre-Rose running distances, even though I have a loving family willing to wait 2.5 hours for me on a beautiful Saturday, life is very different.

Oh, and here's Rose after the St. Patrick's Day parade. All swagged out.

Sometimes the easy way out is the right way out

We became the family who took a Disney trip away from Rose. I felt awful about it. It wasn't an easy decision. It was made over the course of two months, after much debating and talking with Mike and the family therapist. The night we made the decision, I went to bed thinking I had made a decision that was the easy way out.

Rose just couldn't listen to the most simple of instructions. I dreaded myself turning into the Incredible Hulk Mom like I did South Dakota. I could just imagine the youtube videos of me cursing up a storm at no one in particular. Mike agreed with the decisions but for his own reasons. If he decides to make a post, he can explain his reasoning.

Family therapist thought Rose's behavior might be caused from the sheer anxiety of the trip. She predicted cancelling the trip would either make our lives hell or better. Thankfully, it was the latter. In three days, Rose was listening at home. She was showering. Sure enough, deciding to cancel the trip took away her anxiety. So while cancelling the trip was easy for me because it reduced my anxiety, it was the right thing overall because it reduced Rose's.

My aunt, who was helping pay for the trip, suggested next year we surprise Rose with the trip to avoid the fate. Thankfully the trip was insured. Thankfully, we have respite care lined up that week so we can get a little break ourselves cause this week was dotted with a suspension. Apparently good behavior at home doesn't carry to school. But more about that in another post.

Grounding

So Rose has reverted way back, which we hope will end soon. Until then Rose is in consequenceville again. To lighten the mood, I'm posting a link to a funny article that helps ground me (thanks Uncle Colin).

Rose, if you're reading this as a teen, here are some steps to get me to stop my writing:
http://www.wikihow.com/Get-Your-Mom-to-Stop-Blogging-About-Your-Life