I have about twelve different posts that I've started in the past weeks and had to stop writing. I don’t know what is wrong with me lately – a combination of exhaustion, lack of time and a funk that has come over me in the past few weeks, I suppose. Tonight, though, my goal is to get something…anything, really, on the blog. Writing has always been my escape, and I can tell a difference in my entire personality when I get writer’s block. Recently, I have been thinking about women, mothers in particular, who are really hard on themselves. I fit into that category, as do a multitude of my friends. Why are we like this? Why, at 9:30 on a Thursday night am I just now sitting down to do something for myself? We beat ourselves up because our houses aren’t perfect, our children aren’t perfect and there just isn’t enough time every day to accommodate everything that needs to be done. I just had a conversation with another mom about this very thing tonight. Who is holding us to this ridiculous standard but ourselves? I, for one, am sick of trying to be someone I’m not.
I’m getting used to juggling working full time again. Honestly, I really love it, but I just don’t know how other people do it, really. Are the other women out there just lying about getting things accomplished? My kitchen is constantly dirty, the sink is full of dishes and there are crumbs on the counter. Dirty laundry has piled up so high I hardly know where to start. And you know what? I haven’t worked out in 15 months. Yep, I said it and no, you didn’t misread that. And you know what? That is the part I beat myself up over. The laundry? We have clothes (thank God for school uniforms and the fact that I can get away with wearing crap to work most days) and we have food both on the counter and in our bellies. I’m going to admit something else (wahoo! Look at me!) I would much rather sit my fat ass down with a glass of wine and a good book – or some Thursday night TV than even think about going for a walk or to yoga. Yep. I said that, too. There are just not enough hours in my day for me to be skinny again. Sounds terrible, but it’s true – I have to choose to sit and read or write when the girls are in bed because if I don’t, I will lose my mind. I promise you that I will. And, I would much rather be out of shape and happy any day. Now, if only I could figure out how to get my brain to stop running over the “have to, should have, need to” list while I’m trying to relax…I suppose if I could do that, I could also find time to work out. Meh. Nevermind.