Two Laps

Today is the jog-a-thon. 

Or...was the jog-a-thon.

I think it ended five minutes ago.

All bets are off when there's a special event at school. But if I were the wagering type, I would've bet that today was going to go exactly as it did. 

At last year's jog, Caleb ran a whole three laps. The day was so crazy and mixed-up that we were so happy he ran at all. The commotion of every kid in school running around, loud music blaring, parents and teachers cheering, a piece of paper stuck on his back and teachers marking tallies...these are all things you wouldn't necessarily think would upset a child's day. But for us it means preparing for anything: excitement, anxiety, stress, overstimulation, just to name a few. So last year after running his three whole laps with daddy, he bounced around and begged/cried for us to go home. And we did. 

This is a big reason why I don't show up at school unannounced or help in his class, because he sees me and wants to leave. He's fine when I leave him for routine things, but anything different upsets him.

So today we used our first-then-after words to explain that yes we have the jog-a-thon, but we are not going home after. Caleb repeated the schedule and seemed fine with it, but I know how these things can change. I went home, chugged my coffee, and Lilly and I made it back to school in time for stretches.

Caleb saw me and immediately wanted to leave, but the running started and off he went. I cheered him on as he rounded the first lap, put a tally on his back, and he started getting weepy. So I held his hand, and Lilly and I walked another lap with him, all the while he said "I'm going to finish and go home, I'm going to finish and go home." Not to mention when we passed the sound booth, I got "Parents, please stay off the track, thank you" over the intercom. Anyone else seeing red...?

We made it to his class, I added a tally, and we sat together on the grass as he cried and cried to go home. It was all too much for him. I'm sure in his mind, if he had to endure all of the commotion, he wanted it to end exactly the same as last year. I really didn't want to leave him, but I wanted to stick to our schedule, even if it meant doing something tough. I deferred to his teacher and she agreed; we need to work through the hard so that eventually things will be easier. So I kissed my crying boy and walked away. I didn't even stay to the end; it would've made it worse.

Maybe he ran more than two laps. Maybe he bounced back and had a great time after I left. It was so hard to walk away, especially when I knew he was so emotional and overwhelmed. Little things like the jog-a-thon are never little things to us. They take preparation, scripting, reminding, coaching, and sometimes end a bit rough. And there's nothing I'd want more than to have Tj here when the going gets tough. But he reminded me a few weeks ago that even though we're past the half-way point of this deployment, even though we might see a glimmer of light through the end of the tunnel, we can't lose focus and forget that God still has more to teach us in this time. 

“Our soul waits for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in Him, because we trust in His holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in You” (Psalm 33:20-22).

*love you TJ