Thursday, March 12, 2015

Mommy's Timeouts



I've always treasured my personal relaxation time. Before baby, my feelings on alone time were that I loved it and craved it, but it wasn't so hard to come by, either, so it wasn't held in lofty, rare regard. It was mostly just there~ like air~ to take advantage of anytime I wanted. I didn't give it too much consideration. I just dove into my solo time with reckless abandon as I saw fit. 

An hour spent in the bath, two hours passed reading a book or watching Netflix. My actions affected no one but me. How I used time was wholly at my discretion. Yes, hubby and I would spend time together, too, but during these separate moments, we each got to do our own thing, which pleased us both and enriched our together time. 

Now, as the Mommy to an ever on-the-go toddler, rare is the opportunity for me to spend a single, let alone a couple of hours, on my own. As such, my idea of solitude has changed. Yes, an hour or more to unwind would be amazing, but I'd hardly know what to do with it, never mind that I'd be feeling guilty through a percentage of it (more on that in another entry). Plus,~ not unlike most Mommies, I'm sure~ I've sort of trained myself to feel refreshed in microbursts where they present themselves. 

Time and opportunity are more limited, and because of that, the valued feels greater on whatever Mommy moments I can grab here and there. What peace and rejuvenation I feel in a mere 15-minutes alone now rivals whatever lengthy relaxation time I required in order to destress before baby came along. Minutes feel like hours and leave me feeling recharged in my overall well-being. 

I'm quite happy for 15-minutes alone to sip some iced tea and nibble on some pound cake on a Sunday morning as my men sleep in a bit. It feels like a mini vacation being able to sneak away whilst they build a fort out of cardboard boxes on a Saturday afternoon and grab a magazine or think a thought as I sink into my comfy recliner. It's enough. Less is more in every way~ forged through necessity, but powerful all the same.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A List of Things I Never Thought I'd Be Saying (That Now Spill Incessantly From My Mommy Mouth)


A brief and altogether incomplete composite of my daily Mommy script: 

• Please don't play with the garbage can

• Don't put your face on the floor

• Take that out of your mouth 

• Don't put that in your mouth

• Stop breaking that

• Please stop roaring like a dinosaur at the cat

• Don't climb on that

• Please don't stand on that 

• Don't open that

• Please close that

• Stop throwing things

• Stop wielding your toy broom like a sword

• Please just take your nap

• Please just eat it

• Put it down

• Put it back

• Please stop running

• Don't hug the toilet

• If you keep it up, I'm taking it away

• Don't eat that off the floor

• Please stop

• Please don't

• Please come here

• Please come here now 

• Come. Here. NOW.

• 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....

I've become a broken record of an album I'd never even want to listen to once, let alone 77 times a day. I'm fairly sick of the sound of my own voice. I'm sure my little man is, too. 

The End. 

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Labor Pains



So, here's what sucks:  You don't get a transformed body the instant you decide you're ready for one. Even when you're fiercely dedicated to physical fitness and healthy eating, your body doesn't morph overnight into that which you so heartily desire. 

Why is this so deflating? Because there you are day after day putting in the work, in every aspect of your day, and seeing very little results. Worse is that in the midst of those hard workouts, you can't help but catch glimpses of the very "puffiness" on your body that you're putting in the effort to eradicate. Seeing how I look now versus how I want to look feels mocking and insulting. Or, it can further fuel my motivation. All depends on the day. 

It occurred to me the other day as I caught sight of myself during a particularly grueling workout and was most displeased with my physique, that my impatience for results is not too unlike the frustration many people feel in wanting to have a child. You decide you want a baby, but one doesn't just manifest into your arms. It's a process. A lengthy process.  

In the speediest of scenarios, it's about 10-month from conception through pregnancy to birth. However, conception issues could halt that process considerably, and the adoption route can take years to navigate. Just because our heart is pure, our desire is certain and our determination is focused doesn't mean we get what we want the moment we want it. Life just doesn't work like that. Well, rarely. 

This realization helped me feel a little more grounded in my resolve. I've been here before. Bringing my mini man into this world didn't take just a few weeks, and he's the absolute best thing I could've endured the wait to have in my life. With that in mind, it seems fairly reasonable that I can allow for the many long months it'll take until I see considerable physical results. I'll keep my eye on the prize in the meantime. Perhaps, sometime in the near future, the sight of me during a workout won't result in a grimace on my face, but, just maybe, even a smile. 



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