Hip Hip Hurray

My son ran a mile last week within the time that is required in his gym class.  To understand the significance of this accomplishment, you would need to know his struggles in the last couple of years.  He has been struggling with severe asthma for years.  Despite his breathing difficulty, he has gone to gym and run until he couldn’t breath anymore.  Usually finishing the mile in 21 minutes, because he had to walk most of the way.  Even though it is very hard for him, he has been practicing running after school and on weekends.

So, last week when he had a cold, causing severe asthma, he was excused from running in gym.  Disappointed at missing the mile run test, he requested an opportunity to take the test at the end of the week when he was starting to feel better.  With labored breathing (which he later told me burned in his lungs), he ran an 11 minute 54 second mile, beating his best time by 9 minutes.  For never giving up and always giving his best, I yell “Hip Hip Hurray!” for my son.

You Take My Breath Away

It was 5 degrees this morning at the bus stop, which sent my son into an asthma attack. This was his first really cold morning, since he started riding the bus. I tried to coach him about how to handle the cold air with his asthma, but he wouldn’t listen. What I find frustrating as a mother is trying to teach him how to take care of his asthma, and not being able to help him. How do you get through to your children about taking care of their medical problems?

How do you measure your success as a mother?

When my son was a baby, I measured my success by his growth, milestones, health and his happiness. The matrix was easy to follow, and I felt very successful. Well, I’m not saying that there weren’t any challenges. He had asthma and food and environmental allergies that could be difficult to manage. However, I was able to stabilize his allergies and asthma, and he grew into a beautiful happy healthy boy.


For years I was able to manage him and felt very successful as a mother. Albeit, the older he grew the more complicated the matrix became. It started including his performance in school, sports, the community, family, chores and friendships. And, every time I begin to feel like I have a handle on how to make him successful, the matrix changes. At this point, I believe that my success as a mother is my commitment to my son. I keep pushing and supporting him to be all that he can be, and love him no matter what the results. How do you measure your success as a mother?