After the 3 day running hiatus, I was ready to run last night, so after Caleb was in bed, I got in my running clothes and prepared to head out. I wanted a solo run, but as soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, Norah demanded that she accompany me.
So, she climbed into the stroller, and we headed out.
Half a block into the run, Norah began with "I want out, I want out, I want out!" Like any good mother, I ignored her, and her chatter switched gears to the two principle subjects pre-schoolers discuss: Everything and Nothing.
After a mile, her chatter circled back to her initial demand: "I want out!"
Now, there have been recent runs in which I have earned my Mom Halo by allowing her to get out and run with me for a half mile or so. It's cute, and it's good exercise for her, but it's not any kind of run for me. Last night, though, I wasn't in the mood to be so generous; instead, I was in selfish-runner mode and I just wanted to be able to get "my" run. So, I firmly told her: "Norah, if you want to run with Mama, you have to sit in the stroller. There's no getting out."
The last part is, I'm sure, the motto of the modern penitentiary system.
She got the hint and piped down. Soon, it occurred to me that she was being rather quiet, so I peeped in and...lo and behold, she'd crashed out! It was a gloriously quiet last part of my run.
Would've been even better if she'd transferred into bed once we'd gotten home, but alas, you can't have everything...