I'd like to think I'm an itsy-bit in control of my life, but leave it to a 5-year old to shatter that illusion. In my pre-mom days the idea of "control" was precious as a Fabergé egg. Now I fully recognize that egg has been heaved off the Empire State Building.

"You know mom, when daddy is gone, I AM IN CHARGE!" my son Dylan says, with a mischievous grin. 

Uh huh. Actually we've promoted this thought to make it a bit easier for him to deal with Tim's work-related travel. 

"And, when daddy is home, he's in charge!" 

We really don't drive down one-way streets in this house. We prefer two lanes of traffic moving smoothly, signaling politely when one car must pass the other. But I'm curious where this will lead.

So it begs the question... "Dylan, when is mommy in charge?"

"Mom, you are in charge when you go running!"

I was floored by this response --I don't even think he understands how true it is.

I'm training for a marathon right now, logging close to 50 miles a week. Aside from the jump start of endorphins I get on my morning runs and the fact I can eat pretty much what I want (within reason) and not gain an ounce, running is the most sacred me-time I have. As a stay-at-home mom, I've accepted the sacrifices of less adult conversation, the fact I have entirely too much knowledge about PBS Sprouts, and embraced a paycheck that comes in the form of hugs and kisses.

But don't take away my time on the run. It's when I feel most alive, and, perhaps fleetingly, most in charge.

This was most evident to me when I ran a half marathon in front of my family in Missouri about two weeks ago. It was a small race, and I actually spied my son Dylan and my brother along the course. I stopped for a quick moment to give Dylan a sweaty kiss and told him I loved him. He looked at me and screamed, "I LOVE YOU TOO, MOM! BUT JUST KEEP RUNNING!"

It became my mantra as I thought of my dad the entire race, who is still recovering from double knee surgery and balance issues. He managed to get himself to the finish with my mom's help and was leaning on the railing as I finished in a personal best time (1:39:11 for anyone who cares) and won my age division.

The outcome of the race was great, but it was dwarfed by my mile-wide smile when I saw my dad at the finish. We're still trying to find out what's behind his balance issues, and I do what I can from a distance. So as I find my way in raising a 5-year old and focus on other family issues, I will heed Dylan's advice and put one foot in front of the other.

After all, it's the one time I'm actually in charge.