Kristy Maute

Live from Love

Go show them what Love looks like…

These were not the exact words I received from a friend as I changed in and out of every single bathing suit I own (all which date back to both pre-Chet and some pre-Cole), but they are the words I carried around with me all weekend.

My body has certainly changed a lot since having babies. While I’m normally pretty content with how my body looks, putting on a bathing suit that was made for my body at a different time in my life certainly tested my confidence. The bathing suit option I settled on was a little too narrow on my behind. It was little too revealing for my comfort level in the chest. I quickly banished those thoughts and remembered that this body has birthed two babies. This body has run a marathon. This body has nursed two children. This body is loved. My life is loved. It is that love that I needed to walk around with at the two pool parties I attended on Sunday instead of the thoughts of my too small bikini.

Birthday party #1 was celebrating my sweet niece’s 4th birthday. Birthday #2 was honoring my father-in-law who would have been celebrating his 60th birthday. Both parties were filled with people who had come together to celebrate these two special people.

At my niece’s party, we slid down water slides. I not so successfully attempted to drown my 2nd child – Don’t worry! He didn’t mind! I’m not good at going slow. A fast slide equals a big splash. I had jumping competitions with Cole. He beat me every time. How does that 4 foot tall string bean jump so far into the pool.

This is what my love looks like.

Cole's splashing entrance into the pool - Now imagine me holding Chet! — Cole’s splashing entrance into the pool – Now imagine me holding Chet!

At my Father-in-Law’s party, we were surrounded by almost every single family member from the Maute family. Every single cousin, niece, nephew, sibling, parent, and spouse was in attendance. Family traveled from upstate New York, Texas, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. The commander of the USS Truman came to the party and present my Mother in Law with a flag that was flown on the ship in his honor (he was a civilian whose job supported the fleet).

This is what my love looks like.

Sunday evening I sat on the couch completely exhausted by the weekend. Past the exhausted body was a layer of contentment. My life is so full of love.

The bikinis that don’t fit don’t matter. When you stop focusing on the appearance of things, you can live from a place of true happiness. I don’t have a big house or a fancy car. I will never wear designer shoes (Do Toms count?). I don’t need a label slapped on to my latest purchase (although I do adore Lululemon). I don’t even want a label slapped on to me. Wife. Mom. Runner. These labels don’t matter to me either. What matters to me most is love and living from a loving place. I want the jumping contest, the pool slides, and an abundant amount of family members. I want people to see me, and I want them to see the love that I carry around with me. I want my love to shine so bright that they don’t have time to notice the bathing suit or the runners tan lines or the stretch marks below my belly button. I want to love big.

Go show them what love looks like…I sure as hell am going to try!

Joy! In Spirit and In Running Too.

It’s back. That place that I love so much in running found its way back to me. It has been hibernating for a few weeks (and coincidently my blog has also taken a slumber).

It has been eight weeks since my hip first began its refusal to run. I nurtured it. I ran easy. I cut back my miles. I didn’t run on days it was angry. I only ran two miles on days it felt okay. A long run became five miles instead of eighteen. I’ve been visiting a chiropractor. Prognosis: a locked SI joint and no function in my gluteus medius muscle. I’m now back on track. I’m healing and recovering. I’m hoping how did your hip feel? won’t follow every run.

This weekend I ran seven miles. They weren’t pretty miles. It was hot. I was running in the middle of the afternoon. Summer storms threatened to attack at any moment and the moisture (and rain) hung in the air. I stopped one too many times to drink water. I then stopped one too many times to realize I had run out of water. I got back to my car thankful for the miles and thankful I was done.

This morning when my alarm clock went off, I wanted to hit snooze. Even if I had hit the snooze button, I wasn’t really tired. I never would have fallen back asleep. I slipped into my running clothes, and I slipped out of the house. The boardwalk was calling my name. I didn’t have much time so I knew I’d have to make it a short run. My legs were sore from the distance on Sunday, but I also knew I could wake them up.

Mile 1: 8:58

A third of the way into mile 2, I spotted a familiar face. Truth be told the familiar face ran by me and kept on going. She is a friend in the blog/instagram world that I know because of my cell phone. She is fast (really fast). She is inspiring. Without having pace on my watch, I knew if I was running close to her pace I must be going fast. Maybe I could hold on for a mile. I’ve been dying to see a 7:xx on my garmin. I settled in behind her. She looked like she was floating and having the best time. I’m sure I looked like I was dying.

Mile 2: 7:51

Oh my. Why yes. That is a 7:xx on my watch today. I let my pacer run off down the boardwalk so I could settle back down into cruise control for my last half mile back to the car.

.5: 8:45 pace

When I got home and digested my run, I checked instagram. Jessica, my unknown friend and pacer, had posted a photo of her run with this caption: A really perfect run. Major rainstorm washed over me. I sloshed in the puddles and literally laughed out loud. Running makes me feel so ALIVE. I just sets parts of me free that I really love to be awaken to. I rode on the coattails of her runners high to my fastest mile ever (since high school). She shared that with me without even knowing. I could feel the magic of her run.

Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love. ~Rumi

I love running. I love the freedom I find in my mind and in my heart when my feet are moving in my running shoes. I love the surprise rain showers and the surprise numbers that show up every now and then on my watch. I love the sluggish long hot runs. Running allows me to feel connected to my truest self. I even love the two months of reset runs my hip has recently requested.

If you love something, go do it. Make time for yourself to feel what it’s like to come alive. Love your life so much that the energy you carry with you spills over onto the person running behind you. Let your love shine!

Thank you Jessica for carrying me with you today!

Choosing

A few weeks ago, I received a subpoena to be a witness in a lawsuit against my employer. I thought this chapter was over after I gave my deposition and had no interesting information to add to the case. The minute the piece of paper was delivered to me, I got anxious. I got panicky. I could feel tears fighting there way to the surface. I took a moment to gather myself. I knew the only way I was going to gracefully make it through this scenario was to have someone be “my person”. I reached out for help.

After a long talk with a boss, I felt more confident. Knowing that someone understood why this was such an emotional journey for me gave me confidence. I talked with the City attorney so they would know if I had an emotional reaction on the witness stand that it had nothing to do with the case. I plowed ahead.

Every day brings a choice: a choice to practice stress or to practice peace. ~ Joan Borysenko

Court was set for Wednesday of this week. On Tuesday morning, I was hit in the face with emotion. I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t move. My husband found me in a puddle of tears. When he asked what was wrong, I didn’t even know how to respond.

First response – I miss Cole (he is visiting with his dad for 3 weeks, and I miss him tremendously)

Second response – I’m not ready for Chet to go to daycare (he will start daycare two days a week in the Fall, and I meet with a provider on Monday night)

Final response – I just don’t want to sit in a courtroom tomorrow.

After a long sympathetic hug and the reassurance that all would be fine, I plowed ahead.

By the end of Tuesday night, I was emotionally unravelled. My husband insisted that I go to a yoga class. I think he pushed me out the door. During that class, a yin class, I sat deeply in pigeon pose (sleeping swan in yin yoga). Find your edge and explore there. Where do you hold tension? What is your response? I had found my edge this week. In the yoga class, I have discovered that I hold my tension in my shoulders. I become tense in my jaw. In real life, I do the same. I find my edge, and I hold on to the tension. I forget to soften these places and these feelings as I plow ahead.

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

The court date arrived. I learned early in the day that I wouldn’t be testifying until Thursday. The relief I felt for avoiding the courtroom for the day was quickly replaced with anticipation. I wanted it to all be behind me. I was ready to plow through the whole experience and to be done. I had another day to wait. That night the emotions I was holding on to unravelled some more. My husband once again pushed me out the door to go run. My running coach was waiting for me.

Two and half miles into my six mile run (that was hot, humid and on a trail that didn’t breathe), I found my edge. There was no softening of the tension I felt if I choose to plow ahead. I once again felt paralyzed. A pace that felt easy a week before felt hard during this run. My brain could not let go. I took a break in my run, expressed my emotional exhaustion to my coach and a weight was lifted off of me. I found the softness I need by acknowledging the feelings I was carrying with me. The run back to the car was a much more gentle run.

When we can no longer change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. ~Viktor Frankl

This morning I was finally called to the witness stand. As I waited to be called, I reminded myself that I had a choice today. I can’t control the past. I can’t control being involved in a court case. I can control my response to the situation. I am in charge of that. My job in court was to tell the truth and to choose my emotional response. Today I chose to be brave. I chose to be confident. I chose to not be bullied my the suing attorney.

Twenty minutes later I walked out of the court room with a smile on my face. I found my edge this week. I took the time to explore this space before I plowed ahead. I found a way to soften the tension (with a little help from my husband, my boss, a yoga class, and my running coach). I chose to be brave, to be confident, and to let it all go. This chapter is official over.

I’d love to be..

Sometimes I can get stuck in my own head, daydreaming about where I could have ended up, or another life I could have lived. What if I went away to school? What if I was brave enough to study abroad? What if I got that MFA in Creative Writing I really wanted? What if I followed that calling to run off with the Peace Corps? When I’m done wandering down that road that never leads to this life I love, I start to wander down the road of real what-ifs? What if we have another baby? What if we decided we are done with just two? What if I became a doula? What if I focused more on yoga instead of running? What if I left my flexible job for one that was more fulfilling? What if I wrote more? What if I could find a way to stay home? What if we moved to Utah?

I’d love to be..

a mother who raises children who grow up without wounds from my parenting choices
a mother who raises children who are comfortable in their skin and a desire to explore life
a writer
a really fast marathon runner
a Boston Qualifier
a yogi who practices every single day
a teacher of yoga
a career woman who has an inspiring profession
a career woman who educates the world on health
a student studying nutrition and holistic health
a stay at home mom
a wife who greets her husband at the door every day with a smile, a kiss, and a well prepared meal
a provider for my family
someone with a clean and organized house
a gardener with a huge vegetable garden
a handyman who can build all the furniture I wish I could buy
a world traveler who lives out of a backpack (for at least the summer)
a volunteer at my boys’ school
well-read (and the stack of t0-read books would slowly disappear)
found meditating every single day
a doula who gently guides moms and babies in childbirth
a really good friend who never forgets a birthday or an important date
someone who always remembers to send a card or a thank you

My list doesn’t stop there. All of these things are a part of who I am, the things that I love, and the things that I value. I want them all. Choosing one over another always has consequences in life. Putting a check next to one box makes another thing on the list impossible. Today I have chosen family over wandering around the world. I have chosen a less inspired career to focus on other things. I choose running over yoga on most days. I choose reading over a clean house. I choose parenting my boys with a full heart over everything else. I may not greet my husband at the door with dinner, but I do greet him with a smile and a kiss. I don’t know where I would end up had I chose another path. Had I packed up my bags when I was young and left, had I saved the world instead of having a family, where would I be today?

I’ll never know, and neither will you, of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore. ~Cheryl Strayed

There’s nothing to do but respect that that sister life was not meant for us. That life was not my life to live. This life is my life, and I’m going to live it with a full heart. I’m going to honor all the things that I love. I don’t know the final outcome of my life. I don’t know what things will get checked off my dream list. I do know I’ve been give exactly what I need right now.

I suppose this is what I meant when I wrote what I did, sweet pea, about how it is we cannot possibly know what will manifest in our lives. We live and have experiences and leave people we love and get left by them. People we thought would be with us forever aren’t and people we didn’t know would come into our lives do. Our work here is to keep faith with that, to put it in a box and wait. To trust that someday we will know what it means, so that when the ordinary miraculous is revealed to us we will be there…grateful for the smallest things. ~Cheryl Strayed

Vote for Cole

Every night I tuck Cole into bed. Now that he is growing up, I kiss him on the forehead. When did I quit kissing him on the lips? After he is asleep, I sneak back into his room to say good night one more time. I am always amazed at how grown up he has become. His long skinny legs reach the footboard. His even longer arms dangle down to the floor. Behind his crazy curly hair, his face is maturing.

So much of Cole is me. Physically he looks like my child from the long and skinny limbs to the expressions on his face. Emotionally he is my child too. So much of our personality is the same. I often struggle to separate him from me. I assume his response will be the same as mine without giving him the chance to react on his own. Often times it is the exact same. Sometimes it is not. Sometimes I do too much to try to protect the child in him. I shield him from the world because it’s my way of protecting me. It’s not good for Cole. I’m learning to step back.

Last week he came home with a packet to run for SCA treasurer. He was committed. He worked on his speech. He went through the yearbook to guess who would vote for him. I found myself wanting to protect him. Two years ago he was uncomfortable with the attention he got while we sang Happy Birthday that we never sang to him. His nerves can get them best of him. In my mom-brain I wanted to ask so many questions: are you sure? you have to get on stage in front of a lot of people? you may not win? chances are you won’t win since seven other kids are running. I kept quiet.

That Thursday he turned in his speech. I got a phone call from his teacher. Another boy had already turned in a speech almost identical to Cole’s speech. They wanted him to rewrite it. I just knew he would be crushed. I knew he would throw in the towel and decide he really didn’t want to run for office. He would be crushed. When I picked him up from school that day, he was sad. He was sad that he couldn’t share the speech he had worked so hard on with his classmates. That night he surprised me. He wrote another speech.

Over the weekend, he created campaign posters. On Monday night I asked him to practice his speech. He got two sentences into his practice, and he decided he didn’t like it. He wasn’t going to run for treasurer anymore. It was his bedtime at this point so I sent him to bed. On Tuesday, he was ready to try again. He practiced his speech. He decided he did like it.

This morning, in front of the 3rd and 4th grade, Cole got up on stage and gave his speech. While he waited, he chewed on his nails. His legs bounced up and down. When he got up for his turn, his nerves seemed to disappear. He didn’t read it too fast. He didn’t use his crazy nervous voice. He delivered his speech, he sat back down, his eyes found mine in the crowd, and he smiled. He did it.

New Image — Not Cole – I was too busy filming his speech to take a photo

I’m spilling over with pride. I won’t know if he won or lost until this evening, but I really don’t care. My Cole, a child who has struggled to find a place of comfort in his world, shined today. It took a lot for him to get up there, to be brave and conquer his fear, to risk failure, and to let all of his classmates see him. It’s these moments in parenting where I feel like I’ve done something right. I’ve made all the right choices for him. I’ve given him the love he needs to have the confidence on days like today. It’s these moments that remind that the best way I can parent Cole is to step back and let him guide me. He isn’t me no matter how much we mirror each other. I’ve given him roots and a foundation for life. I’ve passed on DNA for his appearance and his personality. But he is his own person. He is Cole. It’s time for me to let him shine too.