Nine Days from Now

There are nine more days until the Maine Marathon. I'm at the point where every time I think about it a surge of adrenaline quickens my heart beat and makes my stomach churn with anticipation. Excitement and confidence are quickly replaced with a flood of doubt. I'm not ready. I can't do it. It will be one more disappointing performance. I can usually push all that out of my mind and reassure myself that I am ready, that I can trust my training and that I will surprise myself. Yesterday, though, I couldn't.Yesterday, I felt like a complete failure: a bad mom.I was getting ready for work yesterday morning, standing in front of the mirror putting on mascara, when Sophia picked up my hair dryer. She often plays around my feet when I'm in the bathroom. I give her my big blush brush to play with and she gently strokes her cheeks with it. When I put on my eyeshadow she says "Eyes!" closes hers and tilts her chin up, I pretend to brush her eyelids and then exclaim "So pretty!" and she smiles. It's good girl fun. Until yesterday, which was not fun at all. My hair dryer was still plugged in when Sophia picked it up and I thought to myself. That's fine. It's not on. I went back to applying my mascara. I could hear the dryer going on and off as Sophia played with the switches. Then I heard this soft "awwhhh." I turned to look: Sophia's cheek was red where she had put the tip of the dryer. It had burned her. I got a cold wash cloth and pressed it up against her cheek, she shoved me away. Finally I bribed her with M&M's and she let me hold it up to her face. While holding the compress all I could think of was her burnt little cheek and the tiny little blister that had formed where part of the dryer had touched. She was going to be scarred for life. On the face. And it was all my fault.I felt awful. That gut pinching awful. The awful where you want to kick yourself repeatedly for being stupid and careless and dumb. I called my husband and he reassured me. But it didn't do much to make me feel better.Today, there's a faint line where the blister formed. It will heal. And she doesn't hate me. So that's good. My mom assured me that more things like this will happen, some of them far more serious. My husband told me "its a good reminder." A reminder that we should be more careful, a reminder that we shouldn't take anything for granted, a reminder that Sophia is a gift, that life is a gift.Maybe that's what I'll focus on as the miles tick by nine days from now. That this life, this daughter, this husband, this family is all a precious gift from God. Every stride will be a "thank you.'