It was today. (Just like yesterday, only…TODAY). And I decided to keep my newly-minted promise to myself in which I actually take some time to take care of my body. EVERY DAY.
Yeah. THAT body. The one that is slowly deteriorating/atrophying while I spend excessive amounts of time in front of…THIS LAPTOP.
The Come-to-Jesus moment leading to today’s promise-kept was when I recently went to sit on the ground at a beer festival. One-handed — beer in the other…DUH. And I farted dust. Because the creak-crack-oh-hell-nos that my body was projecting landed me squarely in the 90+ crowd. Not the cute, 40-something I see in the mirror. Reality check. Effitall.
My first promise was oil pulling. (How BOULDER of me.) I’m thinking that my yellow teeth and bone-rubbing-bone joints will thank me. So I kept that one while doing laundry, carting things up and down the stairs and fielding 100+ questions from the offspring. My one-finger-in-the-air-means-hold-your-questions barely got me through the 20 minutes. And I kept thinking, “Why can’t I be like those Elephant Journal people who sit in quiet contemplation/meditation while pulling oil and visualizing evaporating toxins?”
Finished THAT, spit, brushed and hit the laptop.
I’d been working all morning (while the hubby and girls played tennis with the dog) and at 1pm decided it was time to get up and do the real something. For ME.
Sweaty family arrived as I was gearing up to leave. I shook off the guilt and went anyway. (Can I get a HELL YES?!? Go ME?!?) They mumbled something about bank deposits and grocery stores as I waved and went on my merry-fucking-way. 90+ degree heat, well eff-you.
One hour and eight minutes later, I returned to a hubby and bean on the porch. Music still cranking in my headphones and sweat dripping off my nose, the questions started. I did another finger-in-the-air-I-need-a-minute and grabbed water and my yoga mat.
You see, the new routine involves a LONG cardio AND a good round of stretching. DAY-UM. I’m THAT good.
So, as I was finishing sit-ups, push-ups, sun salutations (did I mention I live in Boulder?), and went into downward dog: a face appeared and kissed my lips, a voice asked me about a list and if the girls could go somewhere, and then an American Girl Doll catalog materialized so I’d have a visual to accompany yet another question.
What I’m getting to is that I LOVE being LOVED. I really, really do. And those precious people keep me going, especially on the days when my ass never leaves the chair and eyes stay glued to the screen. For over 14 hours.
BUT.
Trying to make time for ME? It’s a serious work in progress.
TODAY’S THEME SONG: Bad Bad Daddy. Atmosphere. And like clockwork, soon as I stepped away. You know they got worse. They didn’t hesitate. Of course they start with the horseplay. And then it escalates. Then you get a court case…
