In fact, I find that most Mondays I return to work more exhausted than when I left on Friday. Sure, part of it is that we are trying to cram too much fun into each weekend, but another part of it is simply that “relaxing” activities of my carefree, childless days now require significantly more energy and work in order to be successful (or survive).
After our hike, we ate a great meal and took a pint at a rustic hiking lodge with a clear view of our mountain. I could not help but think to myself: This is the kind of person that I want to be for my daughter. This powerful, determined, caring, supportive woman. We were changed and it was good.
Motherhood has always challenged me to be the best version of myself and this has never been truer than in the tween/teen years. Sometimes I am just so tired.
I quickly lose sight of the fact that she is only 4 and a half. I’ll be the first to admit that I have become complacent. I leave her to her own devices at times. Especially when I am trying to run a house by myself. She is also painfully independent (see aforementioned slamming of bedroom door). I trust her not to put peas up her nose or to eat crayons. I am far too trusting.
Maybe I am a traditionalist at heart, but I still believe every woman has to do what is in her heart … what is right with her soul. And that is pretty damn progressive.
But, then I found myself fallen from a treadmill at 9:45 at night with bruised and battered legs. “Jerry, HELP!”
I always dreamed of having three kids and life did, in fact, bless me with three beautiful children. One boy, one girl, and one child who falls somewhere in between.
In order to keep myself awake I’ve been compiling list of things “to do” when no one else in the world seems awake. Simply getting up and turning on the light does not work anymore (plus who would want to wake up my darling husband).
In my very minimal downtime this week I watched the new episode of This is Us. It should probably be part of doctor’s orders to give it a few weeks before you embark on that show, but I went for it anyways.
Confession Time! I lie to my kids sometimes. And since I want to be honest with you all at least, I do not really feel that bad about it. Here are some lies I tell my kids…