Tag: meditation

It’s 3 a.m.

My Pinterest Worthy To Do List:

Kon-Marie my home.

Use a minimum of 10 beauty products before bed each night (Korean beauty routine).

Run successful “side-gig-” from home thru social media.

Be losing weight on the flavor of the day diet.

Make sure kids are in no less than 2 groups or organizations a week. Maybe even piano lessons for the 11 month old.

Wash the baseboards of my walls.

Read one book every two weeks.

Start selling on Amazon.

Join a Mommy Group.

Practice an hour of mindful meditation each morning. Follow up with an hour of yoga.

Exercise 1-2 hours a day

Blog.

Clip coupons. Hand make Halloween costumes. Bake and cook from scratch.

And so on……

At 2:44 in the morning, (or middle of the night?) after the fourth time the baby has woken up crying since 10 pm, this list is what rolls thru my brain.

It’s the highlights of everything I am “supposed” to be doing. And since I am not, it is the reminder of how I am failing at modern life.

There’s books and blogs and pins all over the internet explaining in great detail how I can have and do it all. Be all that I want to be.

Since when have I ever wanted to meditate? In the foggy brain stupor over my first cup of coffee in the morning- does that count toward the meditating?

I raise a toast to the Moms who see this list and do each and every one item on it with gusto and a smile.

For me, and my sanity, a new list, Minimized and customized to me:

Keep children fed, clean, and happy

Keep husband fed and happy. Clean if necessary.

Keep a pot of coffee on all day so I can stop this time wasting nonsense of brewing a cup at a time.

Mop the floors, and switch out the laundry.

Take a deep breath, baby will eventually nap and then I can paint. Or blog. Or, what the heck, take a nap myself.

Note to self: Throw out that first list I wrote.

Sick Day

My son came down with an ear and sinus infection over the holiday weekend, so today was his sick day.  He is a happy, rambunctious child most days; but when the stuffy head and fever had him stuck on the couch, the entire house slowed down.

In my sales-manager career Past Life, I would have been on the phone, checking emails, calling for sales updates, and conference calls- if I had the luxury of staying home with him at all.

Today, everything was different. My new title is SHM, as the internet has labeled me- Stay at Home Mom.

Time moved at a snail pace.  While he rested, I quietly did chores- remembering my own sick days as a child, and my mother working silently in the next room so I could rest.

I took the time to steam clean the kitchen floor.  It’s a slow process, if you’ve ever tried it. By design, to really clean with the unit you must take your time as the steam hisses out the pad onto the floor.  It’s meditative, the heat radiating from the tile as I walk back and forth listening to the steam do its work.  The only other sound in the home, my son’s stuffy snore from the couch.

I once thought the only joy was in a career with a prize at the top of the corporate ladder- either the paycheck, or the title, or some combination of both.  My new “job” is making this house a home for my husband and children.  No accolades from the boss. No sales awards to hang on the wall.   Just a clean floor, and dishes, and the laundry folded before it’s put away.

My award is the happy smile from my little one telling me it was his best sick day ever.