This morning I tried to workout. Every time I pressed play on the exercise program, Paul screamed and raised his arms at me.
I tried to sweep. Paul grabbed his mini-broom and swept my nice, neat pile all over the kitchen.
Frustrated with that, I tried to sit down and journal to relieve some stress. Paul used that opportunity to use me as a jungle gym.
As I type this, he has climbed in and out of my lap, typed on the keyboard and cried.
I feel like a Mack truck has hit me this morning with the realization that I need to let some frustrations go. I will be overweight, with a dirty house and an empty journal, but I can always fix those things later. Paul won't keep. He'll be in kindergarten before I know it, and I doubt he'll still want to hold me while I exercise.
Now he wants a hat. I better go pay attention.
Here's a place where Sarah writes what's on her heart and mind for whomever will read it. Sometimes it's hilarious, sometimes it's little pieces of life that I'm grateful for. Enjoy!
get busy living or get busy dying..
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean. I have always been very particular about keeping my house clean, and it drives me nuts when it's dirty. But Lila often gets in the way of a clean house. For months it frustrated me, but then I realized, "Hey, she's only going to be this little for a short while. I'm really going to regret that I didn't stop scrubbing and start playing with her when she's off to school someday and I'm really missing her company." It's definitely still hard because sometimes I just need a little "me" time, but I try to get it where I can.
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