Thank-you Mrs. Roosevelt

“Do one thing everyday that scares you.”

-Eleanor Roosevelt

Such sincere words.  I try to live by them.  In my actions, my emotions, and my decisions.  Whether it is trying something, giving something, beginning again, or just pausing and waiting.

Watching.

The fear of what others think;  At the grocery when I hold my tounge from reprimanding a boy under fire.  At the library when I hug instead of scold under the glaring eyes of watchful librarians.  At the soccer field when coercion to participate seems so mandatory but instead I just watch and follow his hede.  I fear loneliness.  I fear boredom.

But, I don’t let it get in the way.  I keep my chin up and greet that morning sun and say, “What shall we do today?”  I find joy in the nothing.  In the everything.  I laugh at my misfortunes.  I rise up when chaos follows me around like a cloud of dust.  I begin again.

Today, just this happened.

I thought I had come up with this plan.  I thought I would start a little workout class for mama’s and their babies.  Friendship, camaraderie, soul-searching, physical well-being.  These things would surely be something I could lead new and experienced mama’s to face, right?  Mamahood can be daunting.  We need to stick together.

So, I made me a little facebook page, I spread the word, made some flyers and some waivers, mapped out the location and a whole set of workouts to boot.  I was ready.  I was proud and excited.

Then today, I was handing those squares of information out to unsuspecting mama’s, attempting to lure them into the goodness that is friendship and fitness… when along came the shiny trifold brochures.  Along came the franchise.

Without a nerve in my body telling me to do otherwise, I approached this sweet mama and let her know I too was stepping out on a limb and starting up my own little business if you will, here, at the same location, doing the same thing.

Our timing was impeccable.

I will not lie, feeling quite frazzled and holding back those salty tears, I gathered up our pride and headed out telling her we needed time to let the dust settle and I would call her this weekend.  When buckled in and out of view, the sadness spilled out all over the dashboard like a southern rainy day, drama included.  I blubbered and generally felt sorry for myself.  I was just plain disappointed.

Then, a little squeak came from the back seat, “Don’t worry Mama.  You can still do it.”

“No,” I explained, “I really can’t little man.”

“Well, we can do it somewhere else?”

“But where?”

“How about Forest Park?”.  Oh if only a Forest Park existed.  I would surely be able to do it there.

“Hmm… I am not sure I know where that is Miles.” I admitted.

“Well, don’t worry, you can do it together.  With her mama.  You can share.”

My little sage.  So many times, this little boy has picked me up when I was down.  Countless times.

Surely he overheard my dilemma when explaining the scenario to my old man, but none the less, the wisdom of my newly three-year old is unreal.

I knew the choice was clear, the little mama herself had spent hard-earned cash I am sure buying a (not so cheap) franchise and I, had spent nothing.  This girl will perhaps reside here for many years to come, raise all her children in this little sunny southern spot.  Me?  Well, I just want to fly north with my boys.  And stay put.

So, karma won and I surely hope this is a notch on my karma rack for indeed it hurt.  I fear that another plan will not pop up in my little mind of something to fill my “something for ME” bucket.  I fear that people will look and see fail when I give them the short of it.  But, I know that this is my choice and in my heart of hearts it is just the right thing to do.

So, be off with you fear.  Be off with you.

I put myself out there and I was willing to try.  That is more than I thought I would do.  I write here, almost daily, for the world to see and everyday that little space in my mind that wonders if I am a fool gets smaller and smaller.  These are the things I want to learn so that I can rightly teach them to my boys.  The power of effort; The reward in that simple yet breathtaking act.

And guess what?  We can share.