it’s about time

It’s about time he fell asleep. Phew. Dodged a big cranky-pants-puffy-eyed-bullet when he stopped yelling rolled onto his side and passed out. These moments are precious. These days feel long and short in the same breath.

My friend Libby just wrote on taking time for things you love as a way of gift giving to your children. It’s the same idea as the air masks in the airplane… you gotta first put it on yourself if you want to help anybody. Gasp. I need an oxygen mask. A yoga/quiet moments/book worming/coffee slurping/talking to strangers/oxygen mask. These sort of things help to create breath for me, and what is life without breath?

Yesterday, *someone called me a grump. It’s ok for the simple fact that it’s true. I prefer the term, prickly, but hey, lets not split already fractured hairs. It’s time I do something about that. After all it is up to me. Responsibility. It’s about time I progress a little in this department. Asking for help, scheduling me-time, following through. This is a mode of personal responsibility. It all seems a little exhausting. Actually, it is. Staying home, sucking it up and moving on to the next chore feels easier. The Truth is, the harder thing is most likely the right thing. She’s right, our kids are watching us. I want my kids to know self-love.

Please God, help my kids to understand that they don’t always have to say ‘yes’ to things. That, No can sometimes be the most loving answer. Sometimes we have to say Yes to ourselves first, which may mean a No to others. Amen. Oh, and Thanks for helping me find my debit card again.

“And when is there time to remember, to sift, to weigh, to estimate, to total?” -Tillie Olsen

I’ll report my findings next week. Until then friends- Au Revoir!

*someone, I still love you. In fact, I love you more for being brave enough to call me Grump. xo

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