I ran seven miles this morning, largely possible because my kids are happy to color with crayons, eat snacks, and listen to A Journey Through Mozart's Magic Flute at my worktable next to the treadmill (and Isaac was napping). I hopped off a few times to get snacks, restart the Mozart, etc., but most of the time they were fending quite happily for themselves.
I always worry about whether I'm getting a good balance between time for me (which keeps me sane) and quality time spent with my kids (which helps them develop into actual people). I wonder if this is an appropriate season of my life to be spending an hour a day running, while my children are up and happy and ready to interact? I really loathe exercising at night, but I suppose that's always an option...but the truth is, if I put off running all day, I end up being somewhat cross and snippy all day because those miles are looming in the back of my mind.
I'm sure someday I'll figure out the proper balance between enriching time for myself, meaningful time with my children, and doing the housework without any of those three infringing on the others, but by that point I think my kids will probably be out of the house.
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Last night we had a multi-ward Relief Society meeting that featured a little skit about how oftentimes we look at other people and think how pulled together they are and think we'll never be that way. And I think a lot of times I just present those pulled-together aspects on my blog (although there is lots of complaining about being sick, right?!)
So here is the truth:
There are two loads of clean laundry waiting to be folded and another in the dryer.
I can eat half a pan of brownies all by myself and feel not the slightest ounce of remorse (also, I ate a LOT of chocolate cake very happily last night).
Abigail is currently singing "Poopinator, poopinator" to the tune of that "I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills" song. Oh wait--she just switched to "Do Re Mi."
I never get up with the kids at night--Neil always does it. He also brings Isaac in to be nursed and takes him away again. Also, he gets up with them in the morning while I pretend to be asleep just so I can have another ten (or thirty) minutes alone in bed.
I have a master's in American literature but I love reading young adult fantasy novels (like Sorcery and Cecilia; or the Enchanted Chocolate Pot by Patricia Wrede, which is truly enchanting).
I ate a cheese quesadilla for lunch yesterday. It was easier than making a salad and I was ravenous for food right then. And now that I think of it, that sounds pretty good again today...
Isaac tore up a book while I was writing this--it's a book that Abigail and Juliet love, but I hate, so I let him go at it.
Okay, I think I've debased myself enough for one day. Moving on...
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5 comments:
That was awesome. I think blogs are naturally like that--mainly show the naturally pulled together parts. Because actually, who wants to read about the humdrum stuff or depressing stuff. Just not as fun.
Except that sometimes it is really fun to hear the other stuff and think...oh, she does that too? Sah-weet.
I think letting your kids play alone is a GOOD thing. Remember how much we ran wild as kids? It helped us develop our friendship as sisters, and it helped us develop ourselves as people--strong-minded, independent, able to fend for ourselves without relying on someone else to amuse us. The self-play time is good for your kids and for you, so enjoy it without feeling guilty!
You sound like a normal person! And I agree with MB about the independent play. You don't want to be a helicopter mom, do you?
Even with your short negative list you still handle life better than I do. And I'd eat a whole pan of brownies without remorse too if I ran seven miles. I went running and kept walking just because I didn't feel like running.
I love reading how people balance their life. I am one that learns by example. So I appreciate your blog!
I soo wish my kids would be happy to play for an hour with little supervision. I tried running on the treadmill yesterday while my 22 month old girl kept crying for me beyond the couch barrier (she loves to come stand close and watch... nerve-wracking for me). I ran for about 15 minutes before we both had enough. And my 3 1/2 year old boy won't ever play by himself. I tell ya, I cannot figure that kid out. I could go on, but this is just a comment!!! :)
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