Tuesday, October 2, 2012

It's Okay


I have a new mantra:

“It’s okay.” 

I tell this to myself this at least a hundred times a day and it calms me down.  At least for a second.

When I forget to restock the diaper bag and the only thing Baby has after his blowout is a clean diaper and some of Daughter’s socks to wear as pants . . .
It’s okay.

When I try to get to bed immediately after Daughter’s bedtime so I can get 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep before Baby wakes up, but then remember that Baby is out of clean bibs and laundry can’t wait, and the sink is still full of dishes and Daughter needs a nice family photo to bring to school tomorrow and Crap!  I haven’t pumped yet and there are no clean bottles . . .
It’s okay.

When it’s the first day back at work at a facility I’ve never worked at before and I miss Baby like crazy and it’s the same day my mom is having surgery . . .
It’s okay.

When I can’t get out for the walk around the lake that I was really hoping to get in since it was such a nice day out . . .
It’s okay.

When I keep running out of time to eat because all of the sudden I’ve become a soccer mom . . .
It’s okay. 

When the weight doesn’t come off as fast as I was hoping, but at least it’s coming off . . .
It’s okay. 

When the guilt weighs me down as I race out the door to get to running club, leaving Chris alone with the kids at their neediest time of day . . .
It’s okay. 

When I realize just how much time and work it will take to run well again . . .
It’s okay. 

When I can’t find the time to get rid of the dead plants that have been sitting on the counter for 2 months, or to pick up the mound of clothes that have accumulated on my desk chair, or to send in the registration form for the MNA conference, or to order birth announcements, or reply to that email . . .
It’s okay. 

When I do find a block of free time and just stare at the TV instead of crossing anything off my to-do list . . .
It’s okay. 

When I wake up exhausted at 4 in the morning and realize I won’t get a chance to rest until after Daughter’s bedtime . . .
It’s okay. 

When I realize I’m just barely getting by, but also happier than I’ve ever been in my life . . .
It’s okay.



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