Against the Tide

Daddy and his evermore mini-me Colby, after today's haircut

So, my last official workout was on Friday. I'm not sick, the kids aren't (that) sick. I'm not slammed with work. I'm just tired.

Today was a day of recovery. I threw a party here last night, so the house is twinkling, at least twinkling enough for me. The laundry demons are napping, and the dust bunnies holding tight to their steads. I think it might be because it's So. Darn. Cold. Seriously! I saw snow today.

And if I'd had the energy, it would have been a soup day. As it was, the "easy-peasy," always-pleasing spaghetti fit the bill.

The short story is, if I run like hell, think a million miles a minute, and generally commit to flying by the seat of my pants, I can do it all. Today, there was no urge to do any of those things. I napped when the babies napped, changed out of my pj's only after Luke peed on me during a diaper change. I spent some time on the phone, did minimal cleaning and dishes, managed to get the boys to the beauty shop for much-needed haircuts.

And I decided early that it really didn't feel like a day to attend Zumba class.

Momma's tired, and this day was hers. I had simple goals, and I met them. I cherished each of my kids. I smiled at my husband many times. I took the time to do the things that mattered.

I've learned that when I am tired of living my life in fast forward and against the tide, that I can rest.

Speaking of rest, I hear my bed calling my name. Warm sheets and soft, puffy blankets, I hear you! I am coming. I think I'll go fill up on some frosted mini-wheats and hope that maybe tomorrow, I'll be ready to don my supermom cape once again.