Did I really think this would work?

Really? Me? Consistently write about the daily happenings of my life?
Today:
Drop girls off at school. Lots of yelling was involved.
Coffee with Jen. That was by far the best part of the day.
Trader Joe's for pre-storm shop.

Did I mention that the forecast is for 4-5 million inches of snow tomorrow? Severe weather alert until 6pm Friday. It's Wednesday folks.

Back to what I did today...

Came home.
Proceeded to feel unwell.
Had salad.
Watched Models of the Runway and Damages.
Filled garbage bag full of random kid crap in an effort to declutter.
Picked up girls.
Took big girl to ballet.
Still feeling unwell, watched some Sponge Bob special with little girl, followed by last night's Olympic ice skating: short program.
Picked up big girl and bought them Chicken, Apples and Milk (the nice way of saying McDonalds).
Let them entertain themselves while I continue to feel unwell.
Finally approached bedtime hour and rushed them to bed.
FINALLY asleep.
Them, not me.

See. Why did I think this would work?

Nostalgia

It was 9pm. I was exhausted. But talking to M who just had just returned from a weeklong business schmooze. Started folding laundry. Went to daughter's room and started cleaning up in there. Suddenly I'm sorting clothes to donate to Haiti. The next thing I know I'm clearing out the linen drawers. It's an hour and a half later (not bad IMO), there's still shit strewn all over the floor and I'm a weepy mess because I'm not sure I'm ready to part with the...get this...burping clothes.
I had no problem tossing the sweet little frocks that I fondly remember both girls wearing, shorts (that they never wore), and t-shirts from destinations I remember as being the "Best Vacation Ever" into the donate basket.
But I can't seem to bring myself to put the pink and flowery burp clothes in the same place. Maybe I'll have my MIL make a blanket out of them. Because that's JUST what my daughters will want when they have children of their own: a blanket made of clothes they puked on.

Resistance

Why is that when I know going for a run would make me feel better I still can't motivate myself to do it? Here I sit. Thinking that staying here, doing a little clean up, running a few errands is more appealing than going for a run. At the end of the day I'll kick myself for not running. On Sunday when I have my long run, I'll kick myself. Every day that I do run I feel improvement. And yet I can't convince myself to get off the computer and get dressed.
Why do we resist the things we know are good for us?

Every single second must be occupied.

Even when I let them watch television (which is often) they demand my attention. For some reason they feel that every little minute must be filled with some sort of activity. Why is that? Why can't they just sit and think?

Is it lame?

Is it lame to have two blog entries in one day?

Not to start I think.

Girls asleep. Once again, I love it when they've had a full day and go to sleep easily. The only snafu being that they wanted their American Girl Dolls dressed in their pajamas to sleep with. Of course they didn't tell me this until AFTER the lights were out.

But they are asleep now and there have been worse snafus than this.

I think my new year's resolution...aside from the usual lose weight, eat better, excercise more, etc...is to be a happier mom. I spend too much time stressed about what they aren't doing rather than what they are doing. Why aren't they eating? Why aren't they sleeping? Why aren't the sleeping past 6am? I need to refocus on the fact that they are healthy, intelligent girls. I need to interact with them more.

Dare I say this?

I need to spend more of the time that they are at school doing the things that I do when they are home. No more telling them to wait while I wash the dishes, no more telling them I can't because I have to clean up the front hall.

I had a job for three months and I gave notice because being away from them was driving me insane, the stress of my schedule (or lack of shedule) was making me miss moments I simply was not ready to miss. So I need to look at that as a teaching moment. For me. I want to be there for them. So when I am there I need to BE there. Does that make sense? Or are these empty stomach ramblings?

Chile Verde...here I come.

Honestly?

Honestly?

Because I couldn't come up with a title that wasn't already in use. Honestly probably is. But c'est la vie.

I don't expect a lot of people to be checking this out. I'm just going to...um...blog. Whatever comes to mind. Be it on parenting, being a housewife, running, whatever.

Right now I am writing, listening to girls scream about stuck balloons (that's what happens when you cut the strings off).

Off to parent.

Honestly.