Let me paint a picture for you:
The house is silent…you are fabulously asleep…but you are abruptly
awoken by a tiny finger stuck into your nose. And of course the fact that it scared you half
to death only forced you to fling forward and jam that little finger somewhere
into your frontal lobe.
You then see the giant, squinty-eyed smile of the tiny human
being you've created. "Mommy big nose" gets shouted a few times as
you try to slither out of bed to get this tiny person back into theirs. But
inevitably, you wake the dog…who sleeps under the covers with you? I know
- What were we thinking when we decided that was a good idea!? (Obviously
before we had kids)
Dog steps on husband's crotch, who then proceeds to push dog
into your face… your tiny human begins to giggle uncontrollably at the sound of
dog's ears flapping and slobber being tossed across the room. And before you even have a chance to figure
out if the sun has risen yet, you realize your day is starting, regardless.
Ok. So it's 5:52. I have 3 options here:
Option A:
I huff and puff, mumbling
about the fact that I never get a full night sleep, while giving my sleeping
husband a death stare as my son and I leave the bedroom…only to go battle over
who gets to put the toothpaste on his toothbrush. (We either waste half a tube
of toothpaste and I spend a few minutes cleaning the counter and sink, or there
is a screaming fit that lasts about 25 minutes that involves the phrase
"MY TURN" being screamed repeatedly) When I'm cranky I tend to take
my "I'm in charge" role way too seriously, and we typically end up in
the latter situation. Then…the whole morning is shot. I'm in a bad mood, my
child is in a bad mood, every toy is thrown, every breakfast food I offer is
"NO Mommy, I don't like it!" I start to feel bad for myself for being
so exhausted, and all I want to do is sit on the couch with my coffee and have
a chance to wake up. But instead I have
to deal with a crabby 2 year old. (However, if you recall, he's the one who
woke up smiling…with his
finger in my nose.)
Option B:
I desperately hold onto the hope that everyone will fall
peacefully back to sleep for another solid hour or two. This option typically leads to
disappointment. When a 2 year old is awake and laughing…there's not much you
can do about that! This option usually ends in a similar fashion to option A.
Option C:
I sit up, deep breath. If I fake some energy, eventually it'll become real! I tell my
son to go brush his teeth (then I clean the counter - who cares!) We pick out
his outfit, and he pretends he knows how to dress himself while I throw on my
gym clothes. We head to the kitchen
where I let him pick out some foods for breakfast that he can "help"
make. We chat; I get a bag packed while
he eats, and we head to the gym. THE GYM! The beautiful place with heavy pieces
of metal that have the power to clear your mind, give you energy, and make you
awesome! And wait..they have what!? A giant room filled with all the toys a
small child could dream of? And there are other children frolicking around this
room…just waiting to play with my son!? And there are adults in there to
supervise this!? I'M IN!
I have been asked, "Don't you feel selfish "dragging"
your son to the gym every morning?" Personally, I feel selfish on the days I
don't…when I'm too tired to throw a ball to my son and chase after it. Or when
I don't have the patience for all of his questions and end up being snippy to a
little mind looking for some answers. If
you have read my articles in the past, you know that fitness has been my saving
grace as a mother! Bringing him to the
gym in the morning makes us both have a better day together!
For starters, my son
LOVES the gym! He doesn't get to play with other kids when we are sitting
around the house, so it's a blast for him to start his days this way. Now as
for me, I am an exponentially better mom when I get a workout in. I understand
we are all different, and maybe some women feel better off the weeks they get
their nail appointment in, or a spa day. But for me…I need to lift, to get my
blood flowing and heart racing. I need my endorphins! The gym is where I find
my peace and my sanity. I leave feeling
refreshed and grateful - ready to spend our day the fun, playful way, with the
patience and energy my son deserves!
Never let anyone make you believe that having personal goals
as a mother somehow makes you selfish! If you are involved in this industry,
you are a competitive person - not necessarily with others, but absolutely with
yourself! If I have an off day as a mom…lose my patients, or find myself
distracted from the one person I've vowed to center my life around, I end the
day extremely disappointed in myself.
These goals I set for myself to get on stage keep me motivated to
continue staying healthy and fit. When I stay on track in those areas, my
entire mental stage is in a better place to be a better mom. That's where this
passion stemmed from, and that's where it remains!
So no…I never feel guilty for bringing my son to the gym in
the morning! I feel pretty damn proud ! Proud
of myself for recognizing my weaknesses as a parent and learning a healthy way
how to overcome them … Proud that my
son grows up in a house with parents who have passion and goals, and work hard
for them… Proud of myself for being
able to do that without missing a beat with my little boy.
SIDE NOTE:
Dear husband - Don't pay any attention to this. 1. I would NEVER give you a death stare. 2. I will totally take a spa day anytime! ;)
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