Tomorrow: The Land of Mythical Opportunity

“Yesterday you said tomorrow.” ~Unknown

Today was a rather unusually productive Sunday and I was only about to get about 3 hours of sleep last night.  I finished most of the things done on my “to do” list and I managed to do them without complaining.  And, for a Sunday, I was in a rather good mood.  I don’t know what it is, but I feel almost as good as I did a few weeks ago.  For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I needed to put things off until tomorrow when I was bound to feel better, happier, or more energetic.

What is it about the idea of “tomorrow”?  We always know it’s coming, and therefor can always put things (ideas, concerns, activities) off until then.  But when Today becomes Tomorrow, how much of it actually gets completed?  And how much of it just gets put off until the next tomorrow?

I know I’m guilty of this.  Constantly thinking that today is the last day I’m going to (insert vice here). That tomorrow I’ll be able to really assert my willpower or make better choices.  As if Tomorrow is some magical land that we can visit that solves all our problems and helps us become more fulfilled and productive.  The people who we are “supposed” to be live in tomorrow while the people that we “are” live in today.

But for me, I hope this stops…tomorrow.  I’ve made my healthy meals and completed my almost entirely clean eating grocery shopping.  My running clothes are out and ready for the morning.  My lesson plans are done and my school bag is packed and ready to go.  I even bought a fitbit because I really want to take this myself seriously this time.  I know I might falter and fall.  I know I might make mistakes. I know I might give in to temptation.  I’m human after all.  But as long as I get right back on track, without waiting for “tomorrow” to come around I also know that I’ll be ok.

Tomorrow morning I head out for my first run in almost two weeks.  I’m not expecting it to go well.  I’m expecting it to be slow and painful.  But, you know what?  Even though I know that’s how it’s going to be, I’m still excited to go.

I’m in it for the long haul.  There’s no turning back now.

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 66.2
Pound to go by January 1st: 25

Now is the time…

“Now is the time for guts and guile.” ~Elizabeth Taylor

I feel like I should preface this post with saying I haven’t given up.  I realize that I need to say that to myself more than I need to say it to anyone else, but really, I promise, I haven’t given up.  I completed my third 5k on Sunday.  Did I run the whole thing?  Nope.  Did I run a majority of it? Nope.  Did I run some of it?  Yep. And on that day, that was good enough for me.

Have I been running since Sunday?  Nope.  Have I been active at all since Sunday?  Nope.  Have I been eating the best I could over the past couple weeks?  Nope.  I could be doing better.  I should be doing better.  I know how to be doing better.  And yet I’m not.  I’m fucking not.  And I have no excuses whatsoever.  I’m just not.

I could blame this on the excruciating pain that my plantar fasciitis has been causing me.  But really, that’s bull.  Yes, my foot is killing me and at time it just hurts to stand, but what am I doing to make it better?  Am I doing the stretches I should be doing?  No.  Am I doing anything to help or prevent the pain at all besides taking some tylenol?  No.

I could blame the fact that it’s because I’m trying to spend more time with my family, but that’s bull too.  I am trying to spend more time with them, but I need to realize it’s quality over quantity and if I’m not all there and my mind is someplace else anyway, what’s the point.

I could blame it on the fact that I’ve been a little depressed lately.  New birth control plus a return of insomnia does not a happy person make.

And you’d think identifying the problem would be enough to get my butt into action.  But nope.  Not me.  Instead I complain.  And yell.  And act sullen.  You know, the mature 33 year old thing to do.  I’ve done such a good job my whole life putting all the blame on other people that I’ve seemingly let myself off the hook.

But not anymore.  It is time to take charge.  I ordered some anti-steroid cream and a night brace.  I will do my stretches twice a day and ice my foot twice a day.  I will make time, quality time, to spend with my family, while also leaving time for me.  I will stop making excuses. Bad decisions are exactly that…decisions.  I have no one to blame for all of the ones I have made, except myself.  I can continue to dwell on them or I reflect, learn, move on and hope I don’t make the same ones again.

I will stop complaining.  I will get back on track.  I will get through this.  I have come too far to give up now.

100 Mile Challenge Miles: 33.8
Pounds lost since starting 100 Miles Challenge: 8.2 pounds

Something…anything

“This suspense is terrible.  I hope it will last.” ~Oscar Wilde

Did you ever lose that feeling?

You know the feeling I’m talking about…that “looking forward to something” feeling.

To me, that was always the best feeling in the world and it seems to have disappeared.

Even with something as trivial as a television show or a book, the feeling of yearning, wanting, and delayed gratification is always wonderful.  Here’s an example: I always stop watching a television show when the last season is about to air.  I never realized I did it until someone pointed it out.  I thought it was because maybe I got bored with the show and became too busy.  In reality it’s because I wasn’t ready for it to end; I wasn’t ready to have all the answers yet.  I wasn’t ready for the conflict to be resolved.

I have a friend who is single and has a crush on guy that we see at the gym.  I see the way her face lights up when she thinks about the possibilities of seeing him and how excited she gets.  And I get jealous.  Here I am, the girl with the husband and kids, which is what everyone is apparently striving towards, and I’m jealous of my friend who is trying to obtain what I already have.  What I’m really jealous about is the fact that I feel like she still has opportunities; the opportunity for a new love, the opportunity for a stole glance, the opportunity for excitement and the unknown, the opportunity for her path to change.

Maybe I’ve been feeling this void/emptiness/lack of hope because I feel like my path is set.  Things are going well.  And my stress level is low.  Do I really have no complaints or am I just becoming complacent?

Now, don’t get me wrong…I’m not asking for drama.  Just a little spark, a little glitter, a little pow. Something to make me feel special, or even simply to make me feel like I’ve got somewhere to go.

Something to give me a little hope…

And yet another way I suck as a mom

“Where would you be without friends? The people to pick you up when you need lifting? We come from homes far from perfect, so you end up almost like siblings to your friends – your chosen family. There’s nothing like a really loyal, dependable, good friend. Nothing.” ~Jennifer Aniston

There comes a time in every parent’s day where you have to admit to your “Yup, today I suck at _________________. ” Usually, for me, it’s that I don’t have enough patience or that I’m not spending enough quality time with the kids. Today, though, it’s different. Today’s it’s about something I feel like I have little control over.

Basically, I need more mommy friends. Somehow when you have children you suddenly have 100 friends…on Facebook and Twitter. People come out of the wood work to be your friend. People you may not have talked to since high school may now be commenting on or liking your status, simply because, now that you both have children, you have something in common, a bond that no one can break. You are both MOMS and that pretty much means you get all the stuff going on with each other without even having to talk or be “in real life” friends.

Parenting is like a club (or if we’re really being honest, like a cult) and you have to really be IN IT to be IN. It’s not something you can fake or buy your way into.

With all that being said I have a ton of mommy friends…on the Internet. In real life, not so much. Which never really bothered me until now. I don’t really see myself as a social person. I tend to not like many people and am very choosy about who I spend my time and energy on. Unfortunately, for me most of my company these days in in the form of the childless. Don’t get me wrong, on most days this is awesome and EXACTLY what I need. Time and space away from my family life and mommy life to just be non-mommy me.

Lately I have been wondering how this is affecting me kids. In the same way that I am not very social, they are very social and need more time to socialize with kids their own age (or at least close to it). I know they get to do it at school, but I’m talking about your average, garden variety play date. I feel bad that they don’t seem to have any friends outside of school. For me, this was the best part of browning up where I did and I don’t want them to miss out simply because I can’t seem to get my shit together.

For a while I thought maybe it’s because my kids are weird (no, really, they are) but now I realize it’s probably me. I have no idea how to put myself out there and make friends of the mom variety. I’m sure I’m constantly being judged in some way (yes, I let my kids pick their own clothes so they usually look like color blind homeless people, yes we tend to spend a lot of time outside so we are usually dirty, yes that IS a non-organic juice box my kid is drinking-points for 100% juice right?).

Am I being judged, or am I doing the judging? Maybe it’s just a little bit of both. Point is, I need to make some more mama friends quick before I simply begin accosting random people on the street and asking them to play. I have a feeling this will be frowned up and not win me any points (or play dates) in the mom community.

Week Two: Time to calm the F*** down.

“I have so much chaos in my life, it’s become normal.  You become used to it.  you have to just relax, calm down, take a deep breath and try to see how you can make things work rather than complain about how they’re wrong.” ~Tom Welling

Last week, when restarting this blog, I thought that each Sunday I should have a theme to better document the changes within myself (and my family, and ultimately, my world) that I am hoping to make throughout the week.  During the week I can write about whatever strikes, but Sundays are a time for reflection, both inward and outward.  Hopefully I can use this day and time to stay focused on things I really want to accomplish.

Last week I decided to focus on “cutting the crap” out of my life.  I planned to:

  1. Slowly, but surely, cut out processed foods (crap) for me and the family
  2. Stop having such a crappy attitude at home around my husband and kids and at school around my co-workers and “kids”
  3. Stop making crappy excuses for things I don’t want to do: going to the gym, cleaning the house, etc.
  4. Stop spending money on extraneous crap that I just don’t need: Starbucks coffee, more clothes that won’t fit in a month, eating out.

While I realize that these are ultimately life changes I am striving for, I feel like I did good for the first week.  I definitely ate less processed foods and more fruits and veggies.  I tried my hardest to stop spending money (on extraneous items) and stop making excuses when it’s time to make the hard decisions.  The most challenging one for me, the one that will ultimately take the most time to work into my daily life and achieve, was changing my attitude.

I promise I’m trying, but my goodness it’s hard.  I mean, seriously, look at the blog posts I wrote this week.  They really don’t have a “positive” ring to them.  I’m still trying to gossip less, build-up my relationship with my kids, and re-build my relationship with my husband.  The secret is to not get discouraged.  Rome wasn’t built in a day.  The problem is I get to antsy and excited for everything to change RIGHT NOW that I tend to be a little…intense (to put it nicely).

This week is, while I’m continuing to work on last weeks items, I am also going to work on this: Trying to Calm the F*** Down!  I get so worked up about all the little things in my life that I am sure I am missing out on some truly wonderful moments.  I need to learn better to roll with the punches, dial down the control freak within myself, and just breath.  I need to yell less, laugh more, and just try to enjoy living.  Every day we are a little closer to the end of the world, not matter how much I freak out, or how much I worry.  It’s inevitable.  I might as well enjoy the ride while I can.

I realize this is all easier said then done, but knowing and planning is half the battle, right?

Sunday Musings: The Weekly Write-Up

  • Week 1: Cut the Crap
  • Week 2: Calm the F***Down

What You Don’t Want to Hear (And What I’m Ashamed to Admit)

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.” ~Honore de Balzac

Sometimes I really hate my job.  I’m not talking about my “9-5” job that,not only do I get paid for, I also get to leave.  I’m talking about the job I have to do every minute for the rest of my life.  Parenting.

As I pointed out, I’m not proud to admit this fact, nor is it something you you actually want to hear (especially those of you who do not have children).  Parenting is supposed to be this magical thing that you cherish each and every moment.  Chubby cheeked little cherubs love you, marvel after you, and touch your soul in ways that are not even imaginable.  And it is like that…sometimes.  Other times it plain sucks.  Actually, I can go one better, it F****ING SUCKS.

In order to understand this better, I should tell you about my day.  I had a pretty good day at work, headed to the gym and had a moderately good workout.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and I was excited to go home and spend the rest of the day with all my boys outside playing.  And then I walked in the door.  Immediately, the four year old (M) started screaming at me about how I didn’t bring home a treat in my lunch bag.  When I mentioned going outside, the 2 year old (O) screamed because he didn’t want to wear socks with his shoes.  When they finally made it outside,  O ate something unidentifiable off the ground.  During dinner,  M didn’t want what I made (though it was exactly what he asked for!!!!).  When I got up to clear the dishes,  O projectile vomited everywhere in the dining room.  Once the husband got him upstairs, it was time for M to take his antibiotic…which he hates.  I tried to make it easier, but after taking one sip, he proceeded to projectile vomit all over the dining room as well…after I had just cleaned up the first round.

At that point I lost it.  Like, really lost it.  I broke down.  I cried.  I yelled.  It was not pretty.

M yelled at me that he loved me but I was not doing the right thing.  I yelled back at him that he wasn’t either.

I finally got him upstairs and into the tub and then proceeded to the basement with all the gross clothes and table items.  I managed to get them started in the wash before I completely fell apart.  I just didn’t want to be here anymore.  I didn’t want this job anymore.  It was talking all my strength not to jump in the car and run away, far away. I WANT OUT was all I could think.

And, of course, the icing on the cake of all of this is that my husband remained calm and collected throughout the entire ordeal, even while bathing the two screaming, vomit covered boys.  This made me me feel even crappier about losing it and pretty much made me hate him in that moment.  I sat downstairs for a few minutes, got myself together and then went back upstairs, ready to bake the cupcakes I promised for snack at M’s school tomorrow.

This whole ordeal, from the minute I walked in the door to the minute I walked upstairs to begin baking, lasted literally 45 minutes.

I realize that these are not typical days for us.  Usually, things are pretty calm or, at the very  least, a controlled chaos.  And for the most part I love being a mom.  I love my kiddos more than life itself.  When I think about them not being around I get panicky and know my life wouldn’t not be as complete as it is now without them in it.

But still, sometimes I get so jealous of my friends that seem so free.  I gaze at them wistfully when they don’t have kids to feed or husbands to get home to. And it’s not like I want to leave them (I know I would miss them in the first second out the door).  It’s just that I want them all to not exist in the first place.  Just for a day, or even an hour.

Sometimes being a mom (and a wife) sucks and it’s OK to think that way.

And while I know it’s not something others want to admit in the open, I know I’m not alone.