I don't like whining any more than you like reading it, so after last night's post I vowed to snap myself out of my funk. I also received some kind words of encouragement from friends and strangers alike, which helped tremendously. Also? I have a plan. And plans always make me feel better. Would you like to hear about it? Of course you would.
There are parts of this problem I can't solve: I must go to work; I must raise my child; I must maintain my home well enough that the roof doesn't fall in on us. These things are what they are, and lamenting their relative difficulties is not productive. No plans will help here - this will always be the 'hang on and hope for the best' part of my life.
The parts that I can do something about often seem insignificant in comparison, and so I consistently scoff and underestimate them. But let's just see what happens if I turn these mole hills into mountains. Behold, my awesome plan:
That's right: snacks. And not just any snacks, but snacks that I will take to work and then SNACK ON. Hello, adequate calorie intake.
Doing pilates after putting The Kid to bed boosts my energy long enough for me to get through my evening chores, and then mellows me out enough that I can actually fall asleep when I tuck myself in. I've also been promised that it will give me the butt that I want, but so far that hasn't happened.
Whatever evening chores are not accomplished by 11:00 will just have to wait. Starting tomorrow. (Tonight I have to throw The Kid's clothes in the dryer, or he'll be stuck wearing one of my lacy thongs to camp in the morning.)
Every day, I will do something just because I want to. Yesterday, I gave myself a quick pedicure. Tonight, I poured myself a glass of lemon Italian soda, sat on my ass, and drank it.
Impressed with the pure awesomeness of my plan?
I thought so.
Revisiting the Bad Mother Manifesto
1 hour ago