Life can get complicated can’t it? And I’m sorry fellas, but us girls have got a lot on our tiny, diet sized plates. Kids, work, relationships, maintaining an acceptable level of appearance in all family members, being responsible for keeping the houseplants alive (not something I do well at the best of times), it can all add up to a bit of a mess if you don’t stay on top of things.
You’re on a treadmill, juggling plates of spaghetti (then scraping the sauce off said spaghetti because son number one is currently not eating red food), just about keeping those plates spinning and not falling over in the process, when suddenly along comes another plate out of nowhere and somehow you have to find a way to make it work. Catch the plate and try to make it spin, without letting everything else slide. It’s like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time. It can be done but it takes a few moments to get it right (admit it, hands up if you are patting your stomach and rubbing your head right now. Just me? Wow, that was embarrassing).
I’ve had a right week of it. Half term is not easy at the best of times for us mums, but trying to juggle work, the remnants of a virus (and resultant egg sized gland looking like I’m growing an extra head on my neck, I’m thinking of naming it), getting started on new writing projects and still lots to sort out as far as my “new life” is concerned, adds up to a lot of stress, and a whole heap of things clamouring for my attention.
But there are only twenty four hours in a day. Eight of those should be spent sleeping I know, but usually those eight hours are spent trying to get kids back to sleep, writing the stories down that appear in my head and worrying about what I need to get done in the next twenty four hours. I just get to sleep and it’s time to get up and do it all again.
Sometimes we all just want to jump off the treadmill. Just shout “stop” and calmly step off for a moment, just to catch your breath. But that treadmill will never stop, and as any of you who have tried to get off a moving treadmill can agree, the likelihood is you will end up falling on your arse and getting smacked in the head in the process.
So I have decided the best way to approach life is the same way you would approach that treadmill with the plates (not that I’ve ever attempted to run on a treadmill holding plates of spaghetti but it’s a good analogy so stay with me here). When it seems like things are getting tough, concentrate on your breathing, keep putting one foot in front of the other, hold those plates high and you will find your second wind. It’s only a matter of time before those feel good endorphins will start pumping, and you remember how much you love to run.
I have messed you lovely readers around a bit these last few weeks, by not posting my usual Monday blogs, and sometimes even missing Fridays. And I’m sorry for that, my treadmill just sped up a lot and I had a few extra plates to catch. But I’m slowly gaining my footing, getting a handle on my new plates and catching up with myself and I’m grateful to those of you that have stayed with me. I’m doing more head patting and tummy rubbing, and less head rubbing and tummy patting (come on, at least one of you must be doing it by now. Still just me? Ok).
