Take time for yourself, they say.
Be sure to honor your “me time” they say.
I have heard variations on these phrases for almost my entire adult life.
I want to. I know I should. I know I have to in order to be the best version of myself I can possibly be.
But the honest to goodness thing I struggle with — daily — is how?
When you can’t afford a babysitter every single day for an hour just so you can run.
When you can’t afford to buy a used treadmill to keep.
When a gym membership seems like a luxury.
When your son won’t sit in a jogging stroller anymore.
When you can’t convince him to do anything for more than 10 minutes at a time.
When all of your effort and energy is going into raising a decent human being, it is hard to figure out how in the heck you are supposed to “find time” for yourself.
He doesn’t nap, but wakes at 5 a.m., ready for the day.
“Get him involved,” they say.
I do. I ran stairs today for 12 whole minutes before he gave up, gave in, and started complaining.
I jump for half hours at a time on HUGE trampolines because I know he will think it is fun, and hey, at least is it exerting SOME type of effort on my end.
And to the people who say “exercise after he goes to bed,” I have only to say, I am so spent that I barely have energy to flop myself on the couch and make sure my website for work isn’t going to explode or self-destruct the next day.
So I’m not at the weight I want to be.
I’m not able to run with my gals at Rosie’s Place or Back on my Feet right now. I’m not even able to properly train for the half marathon I have coming up in two weeks.
And I get sad, and frustrated, and upset about it for about 5 minutes.
And then I walk in to see my son sleeping, and I realize that I am doing my absolute best by giving him all of my love and attention.
I’m trying to raise a decent human being, who is one of the most caring, sweet, kind, funny, compassionate people I have ever met.
So I will take my 12 minutes of stairs.
What did YOU do today?