A Missing Piece

On Saturday I went to a workout class. A new friend teaches at a new Barre Workout place in town (combines ballet, yoga, and pilates) and had a free workout coupon for me.

It was hard. It worked muscles I'd never worked before. It felt awkward because it had moves I'd never done before. It was also hard and awkward because it was the first workout class I've been to since before I had children.

I actually work out fairly regularly. I average about 3 or 4 times per week. But that's on my own at home. And at home my own or my children's stamina for allowing me to workout ends long before one hour. So this workout was longer than I'm used to. But that wasn't the only difference.

As I lay in a relaxing pose at the end, I felt close to tears. Not because of pain or exhaustion (that was there too). It was a release of emotions and stress and tension. Something I haven't felt since I was last in a yoga class over five years ago.

I've been told it for years, but I'm finally learning it. You have to take time for yourself. My at home workouts are good and important. But they are often cut short. I am watching out so I don't step on or kick a small child running by. Even if I do it while they're sleeping, I'm still on mommy alert to them waking up or needing me.

Only by leaving them with their dad and going and doing something completely for me (even shopping involves getting stuff for them) did I get to focus on me and work on me. We all know that if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. But it's hard to remember when the needs of small children are so much louder and more persistent than your own.

Reminder to Myself

The next time I spend a few days extremely tired and wondering if I'm coming down with something: slow down. Take a nap, stop trying to get a bunch of stuff done and go a million places. Because you are probably right and you will get sick. 

And then you will have to spend a few days in an incredibly messy house and not able to do anything beyond getting your girl crackers and changing your baby's diaper. (And to be honest, one of those days was spent crying every time I had to get up to do those simple things, partly due to the high fever I had and partly due to the fact that I stepped on Legos every time I got up.) 

There ought to be a rule that moms of young kids cannot get sick, but we get sick anyway. So take care of yourself so that you can keep taking care of others.

P.S. My husband stayed home today and with his help I was able to rest more and definitely feel like I'm on the mend now. I also drank a ton of warm wassail which felt amazing on my throat even if it did seem incongruous with the 80 degree day we had yesterday.