Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
I have 30 minutes (after H is abed) to go out for a walk/jog (jolk?) (wag?).
Assuming H goes to bed at a decent time.
And it isn’t already dark.
Or there’s too much work to do.
Sometimes I get to go and sometimes not.
It’s hard to get in shape this way.
Troy calls it “relaxercise” since it’s just a wee little time away from the young un’s.
Sometimes I wonder why I stress myself out about it so much. I wonder why I’m working so hard to achieve these goals that I have set up and that I somehow feel like I need to accomplish to raise my children the way they need.
Why not just start working again, part time or full time? I would at least make enough to pay to put the boys in daycare/preschool. They’d adjust. Right? Presumably, since most kids go off to care these days, they would as most kids do.
or just put Little M in school next year. And H a few years after that. Then I could work full-time, from home, the sound of silence a soothing balm to my ear. Maybe some time for a coffee that I don’t have to reheat, time to get out to the garden on a lunch break, or a quick walk. Maybe (probably) even being a better parent, more calm, less shout-y for it. Free to do my own thing again.
Why don’t I do that?
Why do I always take the hard way?