But I'm not. I'm not a slacker. I'm working hard. Honest. I'm nursing a baby right now. I cut hair, I helped make bread, took down Christmas decorations.
Well, I'm writing now. I'm trying to get inspired. I think the hubby and I and some great friends are going to try to go on a cruise next summer for our anniversary. 20 years. And I am researching that some.
I'm trying to get motivated for the next leg of my fitness journey. It's hard. Especially on hard days. I'm pretty sure the thinner I get the nastier I'll look. An old wrinkled nasty bag of skin. The saggy, baggy elephant. Not looking forward to living life in too-big skin.
And hard days are, well, hard. Comfort food is comforting. And time. There simply isn't enough time.
My dad always says you will make time for what matters the most to you. And that is true. But for me, that means neglecting something else I should be doing. For example, there is a pile of clothes in my laundry room that always accumulates of garments that don't fit anyone who lives here right now but that are perfectly good and will, within a few hours, fit someone just fine. They need to be put away. And even though I have an ideal storage system, it still has to actually be done.
Cloth diapers have to be washed and stuffed. People insist on eating every day and that means dishes have to be washed.
And I'm doing this crazy thing of trying to cook more of the foods that fill people up and cost less and are, you know, healthier. Do you know how much more time it takes to make real oatmeal (doesn't come in envelopes) than letting people get their own cereal??
Today I tried an experiment - and those only work about 30% of the time, but I was desperate) - and made breakfast burritos. Doesn't sound that scary, but I decided to make some filler, since we didn't have 3 dozen eggs. I cooked up some potatoes and onion. I thought it was too delicious (scrapping my plan to have an egg day and drop a little of my bloat) and ate 2, but half my clan took one bite and decided to fast.
Sometimes trying at all is the most overwhelming part. And even though I suspect I will at some point put on my A-game and give it my best, count the dumb calories and the stupid carbs and drink the horribly cold January water and run on the stinking treadmill, right now I just want to sit down with a steamer and play solitaire.
Ok. I am a slacker. Or a slacker wannabe.
1 comment:
You are SO not a slacker.
Here's the deal. Last week, I was pondering the sun rising while listening to the radio. (You know the song, "He made the sun rise and the lame walk and He opened blinded eyes to see..." or something like that.) I had a slight epiphany. He doesn't actually make the sun rise everyday. He doesn't change the color of the leaves in the fall. He doesn't make it snow, etc. He put systems into place so those things will happen automatically. Freeing Himself up to be intimately involved with the human heart, to focus on relationships, and to train us to be like Him.
You have people who can do all the things you mentioned (probably not well, but that's okay). No one else can turn those people into mature, Christ-loving adults like you can. I know you have systems. We all do, and they're not perfect because, clearly, we are not God. But you do good work! You are not a slacker!
Sorry for my rambling. You struck a chord.:)
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