The running buddy

The Kid started running this weekend, but only because she had to.

I am so absolutely tired of being chained to the house. It's not that we can't leave, it's just that there's so little time, and by the time I get someplace, I feel guilty that she just spent so much time in the car, strapped to the car seat in the back by herself.

My parents bought her a little red wagon for Christmakkuh, and when I pull her down the street, she sits very regally, with her chin in the air. I used to do the same thing. It's so freaky, especially as an adopted daughter, seeing this duplicate of yourself.

There's a development being built behind our block (south Florida, construction, wow) but there's only been an oval road and some PVC pipes stuck in the ground for the longest time. There's also a small wooden bridge and a stagnant, algae-choked pond that I'm sure will be very lovely some day, but that makes me want to sneak over at night and pour in bleach, before I spend the hellish months covered in mosquitoes.

The other evening, the Kid and I took the little wagon and meandered down the road, and into the development site. Normally, I don't go there after sundown, but I just felt like I needed to run. Even if just for a short burst. With all the adrenaline inside me, I felt very safe against attackers.

There's a small gazebo in the middle of the oval, and she likes to sit in there, so I tried to park her in the center. With no success. I've been going to the gym twice a week now for two weeks, and leaving her with my parents, and she is completely resisting the change. I've also picked up two extra 4-hour shifts at the airport on the weekends. My once sweet, placid, gummy child now refuses to nap, and will only fall asleep in her crib after a full 20 - 30 minutes of blood-curdling screaming. My mommy instinct tells me she is rejecting sleep for more mommy time, but I gave her two solid years of servitude. I no longer have functioning muscles. Plus, we're broke. Things just have to be this way.

I parked her in the center of the gazebo, and tried to run in a circle around her, where she could see me, but she would have none of it. I ran back. She was running after me and crying, with snot dripping down her lip. I let her borrow my sleeve, and then put her in the wagon. We ran about 4 feet, before she started yelling, "WALK! WALK!", and began to climb out. 'Kay. She toddled for a few seconds, and then beelined to a small rock, which she intently examined.

"Sorry, Button. You can either run, or you can ride in the wagon. You want to run?"

And she yelled, "RUN!" (how can you not love this exuberance?) and started to run with me. Plus, she also yells "AAAAHH" while she runs, which is fun. She's pretty quick. I tried running backwards in front of her, and we kept tempo for a minute, but then she wanted to try that too, and that didn't work out so well.

Eventually, she ran with me, for a few minutes. It was incredible for someone who's only two feet tall, 30 lbs., and who didn't exist back in 2003. It wasn't Chariots of Fire, but I felt better and she was laughing her head off. I kept telling her how proud I was of her, and she was beaming. And she slept like a ROCK.

New Year's Day I took her to a park across the street from where we used to live in Plantation. It's fenced in, and she likes the playground. There's a plastic rock wall to climb on up to this monstrous slide, and I held my breath while she climbed up for the first time, and then slid down the giant slide. I clapped furiously, and then began breathing again. The Kid kept climbing up those plastic rocks. The other children playing around her were 2 - 3 years older, and they were all together, laughing and squealing. Suddenly, they took off running. The Kid took one look at them, and started running after them, laughing, but she couldn't keep up.

For just an instant, I saw this look of unbridled joy on her face, just to be one of a group of running children, like wild horses in a herd. There was no landscape, no voices, just the children around her, and running like her legs were unstoppable. She was just happy.

I love this child to pieces.