My birthday week is over. I love birthdays — I’m not into presents so much, but the chance to let a friend know you are happy for him or her is special. I think people who put a monetary value to presents are disappointed in the kinds of gifts I give. To me, it really is the thought that counts, the thought behind the gift or the card or the comments. Like I told my girlfriends last night; a present is icing — that you let me know you love me and value me is priceless beyond words.
I was really lucky this week to have friends make a fuss over me. I’ve been down a lot over the last few months, and my good friends picked up on this and made a point of celebrating me. I needed that, and I’m thankful to them.
Yesterday I was supposed to go on a morning bike ride but the 32-degree temperature (plus a really wonderful book) conspired to keep me at home. When it warmed up and I wrapped up what happened to Edgar Sawtelle, I took my buddy Boo to the greenbelt for a powerline run. It was a lovely time out on the trail, and we took an alternate way back from the Hill of Death, one that I doubt you can take all the way back to the main dam when the creek is anywhere near normal.
Today my boy goes to the orthopedist. He went all weekend without his brace; I think the real mothering challenge ahead is to keep him reined in. Unfortunately, I can’t be there at workouts…and his coach is itching to have him back. He himself is itching to get back. I know how hard it is to want to workout but not be able to, so I get it, but how do you teach patience and thinking about long-term health to a 16-year-old boy?