I’m someone who believes in list-making, goal-setting, and tracking progress. I promised I would get my act together … write regularly, take care of my body … and I’ve failed miserably. We hadn’t even flipped the calendar to February, and already I was in apologetic mode (I began writing this post then). Well, nearly another month passed and this post sat in my “Drafts” folder.
Readers, I’ve failed you enormously. I haven’t written a single post in seven weeks (not that I’ve been keeping track or anything!).
I’ve been inspired plenty … but I just haven’t carved out the time.
Body, I’ve failed you. I have barely made it to the gym and I’ve been eating like CRAP (which my jeans can attest to). I haven’t put the time into taking care of myself, and it shows.
Kids, I’ve failed you. I’ve barely made note of any of your progress over the past few months — like the fact that Maya gave me a lesson on how shadows are made the other morning and is participating a little more in dance each week, feeling her oats … or the fact that Ben is in the “big boy” toddler room at school now where he sleeps on a little cot and he knows where Maya’s classroom is and races down the hall, arms out, yelling “Ay-ya!” and pointing.
I don’t have any excuse other than saying that life’s been busy. Busy. Ugh, I hate that word. I hate “crazy-busy” even more …. and I’ve been guilty of using that one, too. It doesn’t annoy me for any reason except the fact that life is busy for everyone. We all have our own lives to live … And we have to carve out time for the things that are important to us; your crazy might be my normal and vice versa! It’s all relative.
But lately I just can’t seem to find a rhythm; I am not carving out time for the things I know I need to: writing and fitness. When I write, it’s therapy. And when I work out, it’s therapy. I need both in my every day life. I just haven’t been getting either, and it’s taking its toll on my mental and physical self.
Life with two kids — especially now that Ben is mobile and talking — is really just so much more intense than I could have ever imagined. Their demands are so different and their needs are so different at this stage, that it feels like I am failing on every level.
I find myself angry and frustrated at Maya for not listening and reverting to “baby talk” (totally age-appropriate but annoying no less). My patience wears thin, and I hate that (especially since she catches on and uses it against me).
And Ben is at that adorable/challenging uber-clingy stage where only Mommy will do for anything/everything …and because I have a job, and a life, and another kid, husband and dog to care for … I cannot hold him 24/7 (or as Maya says to him, “Benny, Mommy cannot hold you 24 seconds!”). So I feel myself failing there, too.
Bottom line … it’s been tough. Don’t get me wrong: I’m grateful–supremely grateful–for so many blessings: health and wellness and a roof over my head, a job, a wonderful family and amazing friends. But I can’t sit here and act like it’s all easy or like I have it together; I don’t. I feel like every day I say I’ll hit the reset button … and every day those intentions go out the window.
I just have to get it together and run with the #wycwyc mantra I deeply believe in but am not practicing: squeezing in even a 15-min workout every day, writing even just a post or two a week to get jump-started. I know both are possible. Hell, I used to do both without giving it a second thought (x 3!) But life was different then. My priorities have shifted over the past year and a half, and the struggle is real. I don’t mean that glibly; the struggle is real: between who I am naturally, and who I want to put the time/effort in to be, because everything — everything — comes with a cost. If I want to work out, I need to wake up earlier because I don’t want to sacrifice family time at night. If I want to write, I need to not run errands at lunch (which I run then because I don’t want to give up weekend family time) and put pen to paper. And so on and so on, it goes.
I certainly don’t have any answers but I think that’s what your 30s are all about; finding what makes you happy — and finding a way to bask in that happiness on the regular. Fitness and writing both make me happy. Feel good. And I need to just put on my Big Girl pants and make the commitment to both. If for no other reason than it makes me a better mom and a better wife.
So thank you for reading and listening and I hope to be back soon. Thank you ❤