Crossing The Finish Line of Parenting

I made it! I am crossing over the FINISH LINE and I fully expect awards and accolades. I’d like a gold medal even though I didn’t sprint one second of this journey but I maintained a turtle /slug like pace, slow but consistent. Sure I stopped along the way for a refreshing and much needed Pinot Grigio, I mean Gatorade, but I’m here, aren’t I?

Wow, you’re thinking, how can one person be so lazy yet accomplish a marathon? How can someone like you (me) run a full race with not one second of training? Can you run a marathon in slippers and sweatpants?

Not to brag but I have been training since 1998.

Instead of a 26.2 sticker glued to the rear window of my car, I’d like one that brags 18! Maybe I should have TWO stickers.

For what, you might be asking? Sitting at home in your pajamas at your computer? Napping with the dogs? Eating dry cereal?

Are you wondering, why do you (of all people!) deserve an award, a sticker, a medal for anything?

Listen, I think this is a major accomplishment, I got not one, but two kids to the age of 18!

Raising them was truly an exercise that pushed me to my limits.

How many times did I utter the words, “I can’t do this!” ?

Too many to count!

How many times did I cry, “Oy vey!” ?

But I pushed through.

There were times when I curled up on my bed and cried.

I wanted to quit. I kept moving forward even when my body felt like a sack filled with cement and my brain was like mush.

But…

I did it!

Disclaimer, my daughter isn’t 18 for a couple of weeks but I’m almost there. Its like being on mile 26.1.

The journey was long, I was tired. I didn’t think I could keep going. Not only did my muscles ache but there where times I wondered if I was going to make it. My stomach was often upset, my head felt like it was in a vice. Too many times to count did I nearly throw up.

Yeah, we’re still talking about parenthood.

Here are quotes from articles about running a marathon but don’t they fit in with parenting too?

“All I could focus on was how difficult it felt!”

“You want your friends and family in your corner.

“There was no bathroom in sight and it just happened!”

“You feel like you’ve been run through a meat tenderizer.”

“You wake up in a cold sweat.”

“You may feel like a failure.”

“It’s seriously daunting.”

“You’re running on guts. On fumes. Your muscles twitch. You throw up. You’re delirious… There’s no way out of this hell you’re in.”

“Its a task of sorts which can include terrific highs and lows.”

“You draw deep and pull something out of yourself.”

I’m reminded of the time my daughter vomited hot Cheetos all over me and our light colored carpet when I read this one: “You wonder later, ‘How did I do that?’ ”

Indeed.

When I cried as the toilet full of poop overflowed all over the bathroom floor: “There’s a moment where you can either quit, fold, or say to yourself, ‘I can do this.’ ”

I combed lice from my daughter’s hair for over three hours: “You learn a lot about yourself, your physical and mental limits.”

Before the kids get up and the house is quiet, I’m drinking coffee: “There’s not a better feeling than when you have found that moment of balance and harmony.”

Up all night with a newborn/sick child/kid who won’t go to bed: “The body does not want you to do this.”

And then as I see my kids practically grown up, I realize those sleepless, difficult years with them are firmly behind me not unlike the rear view lights on a car driving into the distance, vanishing from sight.

It makes me a little sad.

Just a little.

Because you know, after a marathon, you are exhausted and its time to relax and decompress and let your body regulate. Once kids turn 18 and graduate high school, you automatically get a luxury cruise and a bottle of champagne, right? Well, we should.

Or at least a sticker for the car, “18: WE MADE IT!” And every exhausted parent can honk at one another in solidarity.