This is my focus for the month: achieving change through a change in perspective.
My life is very fulfilling — I’m a full-time nonprofit exec, a full-time mom (what mom isn’t!?) and community volunteer and activist. My time is filled with everything… except proper self-care. So this year, as we wait for our referral for our children from China, I’m going to focus on re-framing my time and how I use it.
I remember my Latin teacher saying, “Mens sana in corpore sano”
2 points if you know what that means!
Okay, “A sound mind in a sound body.”
I’m committed to getting into shape (and the “round is a shape” quip gets old fast).
The commitment to fitness conjures up the favorite “E” word: exercise.
Exercise in patience…
Exercise in futility…
I’m one of those people who runs around cleaning up the house before the cleaning lady arrives!
So it stands to reason that I tell myself that I must lose 10 pounds BEFORE I go to the gym and work out with a personal trainer.
I tried watching those exercise DVDs at home so I don’t have to embarrass myself in public. I can work up my bloodpressure heckling these ultra-fit, serenely happy aerobic/weights/yoga gurus who talk and smile without panting while gracefully gliding across the screen.
They glisten, I sweat. They smile and talk, I grimace and pant. If the guy is too cut and hunky, I just admire his physique and am perfectly content to let him do the work. Where are they when I need help to hold the green bouncy ball and keep it from squirting out from under me, causing me to land on flat on the floor?
Then I go to a local workout area to work on what they call an Elliptical machine — boy that can help you feel muscles you didn’t know you had between your fannie and your knees! Of course the kids keep calling my cell phone wondering where their favorite socks are, if they can play at so-and-so’s, etc. The fact that there is another parent at the house is immaterial. They want MOM!
I tell my kids that I went back to work so I could go potty by myself! I’m only half joking! The one time the receptionist came looking for me in the bathroom to announce a caller, I had to swallow a very visceral response. I asked her instead if anyone died, if there was a fire or other dramatic emergency. She seemed startled by my question and said meekly, “no”
I told her that I don’t like to talk when I’m on the toilet (okay, when talking with sisters, it’s okay — but you must flush and run out of the room quickly) and please take a message.
Oh, oh… it’s 10 p.m. and the kids are not asleep yet — gotta run!