Sawyer and I had our first solo trip up to Bainbridge Island. He discovered the beach. I basically had to pry him away. He would have been content to never leave, set up a tent and just live down there. We'd have to eat kelp for breakfast but I think he'd be into that sort of thing.
Since we got in the car to head home, this poor little guy has been non-stop living in sad town. He is cutting some serious molars. Only wanting to be held by me, eating nothing, prefers nursing every single second, and only gives hugs to Hank. In this photo he is holding a portable jam box. We put on his favorite songs and he wanders around, happily singing his own sweet song. This is the only thing that makes him happy these days.
Today is Day 3 of this situation. He was clinging to my legs as I tried to get some blueberries out of the freezer for him (which he would eventually throw, each one individually, onto the floor for Hank to go bananas over and for me to feel sad over. Because they are
really good blueberries) I had an epiphany.
I had to go for a run right that second. Seriously. I ran into the other room and relayed this information to Dean, grabbed the same running pants I've had for the past 10 years which are hideous electric-blue-shiny-spandex, kissed the baby goodbye and fled out the door. No time for the suggested "warm -up walk" bullshit. I hit the ground running. After a few minutes, I remembered it has been nearly 2 years since I ran; I better stop sprinting like I was running for my life and take it easy. I listened to
Girl Talk and couldn't help but half dance / half run. Why isn't this a normal thing to do? The rain was coming down like I was in a movie; it was glorious. I was
throwing fists in the air, laughing, high kicking, side kicking. I had to hold myself back from giving high fives to everyone I passed. At one point I had to pass a couple walking on the trail down to the lake. I was barely running faster than they were walking so it felt ridiculous to pass them. But probably better than running in slow motion directly behind them. So I picked up my pace a little and confidently swept passed them. Like, no big deal, I'm a runner. I was so distracted that I didn't quite see the biggest puddle ever just ahead. Over my shoes big. I just kept running. It was a really good time.
