Like all of the Scoot a Doot chicks, I’ve got a ridiculously busy schedule. NOT like all of the Scoot a Doot chicks, I’m a ridiculous slacker. If we were Smurfs, I’d be Lazy Smurf. Or at very least, Whiny Smurf.
But, you guys, I’m SO busy.
As I sat typing out our family Summer Calendar today, there were a lot of notes about doctor’s appointments (those darn physicals just come around every year, huh) and daycare arrangements and kid’s soccer practices and family vacation plans and so on and so on.
But there wasn’t any me time. A lot of US time, and a super lot of THEM time (the younglings – and as my fellow moms know, their time and my time are completely locked together), but no ME time.
I like me time. I miss me time.
I realize what has happened. My ME time, formerly filled with mani/pedis or movies or laying like a vegetable on my couch, is now spent doing things like trying to fit in a run or trying to make it to the gym or trying to get to the Zumba class I haven’t been to in months.
Did you catch that word I just used? Trying.
When it was mani/pedis, I made gosh darn sure those happened. It’s not like it’s hard to find the motivation to drive over to the nail salon and sit in a chair reading People and having someone massage your tootsies.
My runs? Or even my walks? They aren’t happening with any regularity at this point.
And that doesn’t make sense. Because I want to get in better shape and I’m really focused on weight loss and I know that a run or a Zumba class would certainly help those efforts and I would definitely feel better afterwards but IT DOESN’T FEEL LIKE ME TIME.
It feels like work. It should. It is work. But I think, subconsciously, I’ve been struggling a little with taking the little free time I have and using it to go get sweaty and gross instead of polished and girly.
And it’s got to stop. Because while it’s all well and good to have pretty toes, I think it’s more important at this point in my life to be able to reach my toes.
I need to make activity a priority. And I want to, I really, really do. I just… sometimes, I miss being a bum, you know? And lately, when I’ve got one hour left of a hectic day, I’m much more apt to return to bum mode and watch So You Think You Can Dance instead of, oh, I don’t know, actually dancing.
For those of you that share my ridiculously small amount of time for ourselves, how do you reconcile it in your brain to spend it on those things that make us better as opposed to those things that only make us look better or feel better temporarily? How do you make yourself pull on your sneakers and just hit it at the end of a long day? In short, how the heck do I get out of my own way?
Bec is busy. Really busy. And whiny. Really whiny. Any tips for a super busy mom trying to fit in working out and having some girly girl time? Because she’s got a half marathon that is getting closer by the day and we’d like her not to die on the Atlantic City boardwalk!