Priorities Schmiorites

 

My muscles were so fatigued in the days following my second workout that I couldn’t find the strength to put the fitted sheet onto my mattress. Instead I just threw a flat sheet on top and slept on that. Doing up the snaps on M’s onsie sent twinges of pain up my overworked arms and into my shoulder blades. Even going to the washroom posed a problem. I am now considering just wearing a moo moo everywhere. Fortunately my husband doesn’t seem upset that the bed isn’t made or at the expanding pile of clean laundry that has been pushed off my list of priorities. I mean, if you want clean clothes just dig into the pile in the living room. It kind of seems simpler than opening and closing drawers or even walking all the way to the bedroom.

I feel like working on me is taking a lot of time. Some of that time I would normally be wasting and some of that time I would of most definitely be cleaning. But now when I have a spare ½ hour, I choose to go for a run instead of always doing dishes. My priorities are evolving. My children are fed, bathed and happy. I try to get them out into this glorious spring like weather that we are experiencing instead of cooping them up inside while I catch up on things that really don’t matter. I keep on referring to a cross stitch framed in L & M’s room. Made by my grandmother for my mother it reads:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow…

For babies grow up we’ve learned to our sorrow…

So quiet down cobwebs…

Dust go to sleep…

I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep!

 

Fitting fitness into my life definitely has sacrificed a certain standard of living in my home. But I can tell it is worth it when L is so excited to have me climbing on the monkey bars with her instead of watching by the sidelines. I might not be at home teaching her to be a perfect housewife but I think I am teaching her something far more important. I am teaching her how to take care of herself.

– Stephanie Raposo