It’s a rough day. I’ll admit it. I’m struggling.
For the second day in a row, I’ve been unable to go to the gym. This morning, the baby was awake and wanting to nurse at 5:45, the time when I’m usually sneaking out the door for my daily gym time.
I was talking to a friend about this the other day. You see, I’m a gym rat. I’d rather run at the gym like a hamster on a wheel than run outside. I don’t know why that is, but I’ve accepted it as a personal truth. It is what it is. But on days like today, when I can’t get to the gym, I wish I had a baby jogger/jogging stroller so I could get some exercise while the twins are at preschool.
Because I’m not a nice person when I’m sedentary. I feel trapped by stay-at-home-motherhood when I don’t get exercise. I realize that might make me a horrible person or a bad mother, but I’m a person too, and I need to take care of me in order to take care of others. This is a very new realization for me. VERY new.
Without exercise, I am snarky (okay, okay, snarkier than usual, smart asses), snippy, short-tempered, grumpy, impatient, and generally argumentative when I haven’t worked off some excess energy.
So today, I’m trying desperately to channel some Zen-like patience with my little people and be courteous to rude people. (I posted an iso for a clean jogger on a Facebook sale site, and politely declined someone who posted a filthy, faded piece of junk in response to my ad. She channeled her inner ugly-and-rude-as-hell snark, and now I’m fuming, trying to let it go because she clearly just wasn’t raised to be polite.)
But damn. Serenity. Right Fracking Now, if you please.