Type-A Freakness

I've never been a control freak. In fact, I've always felt that I don't fit in with most runner/athlete types because I do not have a Type-A, obsessive personality. I leave drawers half open, I never tighten lids all the way, and I never quite finish my paintings. I'm a half-asser. Never having the desire to control things has made me a fairly laid back person. Lately though, something has changed. I think it has something to do with having a 2 year old (and a puppy). I often feel like no one is listening to me. I ask nicely, then I ask nicely again, then I ask sternly, then I yell. I hate yelling, but it seems yelling is the only way I know how to talk anymore. It makes me freakin hate myself! I never wanted to be a person that tells other people what to do.

I'm starting to think that maybe I do have some control issues. I never had a problem not being in control, but now I feel totally out of control and that's bothering me. I know when it started, too. It was the little pink line on the EPT that still haunts me three and a half years after it materialized out of my HCg-laden pee. Damn, I really felt out of control sitting on that toilet watching my freedom just die. I don't think I even knew a baby would come of it. Much less a toddler. All I could think about at the time was the uncontrollable growth of my belly and its surrounding body parts. I decided to just let it all happen. My boyfriend and I decided we wouldn't be like other people with kids. We would still ski and snowboard and I would still do triathlons. We would travel too. We agreed that babies are portable and we would just take him wherever we went and we'd keep on living. We'd barely even know he was there.


I let that little fetus overtake me. The problem is, I'm still letting him overtake me. Only now, he's out here in the world with us. He doesn't think it's appropriate for me to all of a sudden demand some respect. So we battle. All day long, we fight for the power. We each try to gain control. And I become one of those.


I think moms run for different reasons than other people. I used to "train" (not in a Type-A freak way) because I wanted better times. Now I run because it's the only thing that keeps me from going insane. I feel that I have to sign up for certain events to justify all the running, but honestly I could live without racing. During the week, I run in the middle of the day when my husband comes home from work. By that time, I need out. But on Sundays, I get up early to run. It's so ironic that all week I can't wait to get out of this house and away from this family, but on Sunday, it takes everything I have to pull myself away from them. I love my family in the shape of a warm, sleepy mass in my bed. Departing a warm, sleepy bed to embark on a cold, morning run is a characteristic of one of those Type-A, obsessive, control-freak runners, so maybe I do have a little of that inside of me.