No "excuses" needed.

I said I wasn't going to write about it.  I promised myself that I wasn't going to jump on the bandwagon. 

But here I am.

I am sure most, if not all of you, reading this have seen the "What's your excuse?" fitspirational image going viral all over the Internets these days.  I am not going to talk about the individual who posted it...because this is not about her.  SHE looks awesome.  That is a fact.  I have no problem with her posting an inspirational pic for HER followers.  None at all.

What I do have the issue with is the whole "what's your excuse" thing.  You know why?  Because I don't have an excuse...and I sure as hell don't need one.

Would you ever walk up to someone...even IF you wanted to motivate them, and say..."WHAT'S YOUR EXCUSE""?  I surely hope the answer is no.  Therefore, doing it on the internet is also an asshole move. 

I can tell you right now that I am probably about 30 pounds heavier now than I was 10 years ago.

I can also tell you that I couldn't run 5 miles back then...but I can now.  Yep, I am fatter now but most likely in better shape.

I can also tell you that I hadn't carried 3 babies each to 39 weeks gestation and had my stomach cut open three times for each of them to be born safely then...but I have now.  NOT an excuse...but it kinda is.

I can also tell you that sometimes I get my kids a Happy Meal and I get some fries for myself.  Okay, sometimes I get a cheeseburger too.  They might be nasty...but damn if they don't taste good.

But all of these things are not excuses.  You know why?  Because I don't need an excuse. 

AND you don't either.  None of us do.

That chick doesn't need to explain herself and say that she works out early in the morning or with her kids.  She doesn't need to defend herself.

Just like the lady in the Taco Bell drive-thru doesn't need to defend her choices.  And the lady clocking 5 hours at the gym while her kids are in school doesn't need to defend her choices.  And the young mom who can't seem to lose that baby weight doesn't need to make excuses. 

Everyone is in control of their own body.  If I want to go on a strict diet and exercise regime, I will do just that.  Maybe I will lose weight.  Maybe I will fit back into my Size 6 jeans.  Maybe not.

That doesn't mean I am lazy.  Because I can assure you that I'm not.  I don't sit on my ass and eat Twinkies all day.  And if you assume that everyone who doesn't have a picture perfect body complete with abs of steel is a lazy piece of crap full of no good excuses, then you are an asshole.

So let's all come to an agreement that none of us need excuses.  We are all trying to do our best.  And just leave it at that.

We've had a good run, Girl.

My cat is dying.  My cat that I have had since college, for over 15 years, is dying.  And if you are not an animal/cat person...well, you might want to stop reading because you probably won't understand.

So as I said (for those of you still with me), my old cat Annabelle is dying.  I got her in college when she was a kitten.  I was just as impulsive then as I am now.  So one day my roommate Kelli and I decided to get a kitten.  I saw one of those "free to good home" ads and headed on over.  She was the last kitten left...and she was adorable!

We had a new little addition.  She really was a good cat...although she attacked Kelli's legs quite often.  I think she sensed that Kelli wasn't really a cat person.  Once the kitten cuteness wore off, she lost interest...and Annabelle attacked from time to time.  It was always good for a laugh because Kelli is and was a bit (read: extremely) dramatic.

So she basically became MY cat.  When I was away for a 5 week study abroad program during the winter of 2000 in England, Ireland, and Scotland, I left notes all over our apartment...

Did you feed Annabelle today?
Please feed Annabelle!!!
Don't forget to feed me...I'm starving. Meow.
If you don't feed me, I will attack you in your sleep.  Love, Annabelle

Well, I guess she fed her because Annabelle survived.

The next year I graduated from college.  Annabelle and I packed up and moved back to my parents' house for about 2 years.

Then I bought my first house.  Annabelle and I moved into the house together.  I was petrified most nights and wasn't a huge fan of living alone.  I would lock all the doors then go up to bed...and then lock my bedroom door too.  Annabelle would always sleep at the bottom of my bed on those nights.

About 6 months later, my now husband moved in and she tolerated him just fine.  But THEN we went and got a Saint Bernard puppy.  I'm sure she was pretty pissed but she didn't let it show.  The two became good friends.

The next year we got married AND moved to a new house...with the dog and Annabelle in tow.

Over the next 9 years, I had not one, not two, but THREE children.  I also had a home daycare for four of those years.  Annabelle took it all in stride.  She let the kids pet her, pull her tail, poke her in the eyes, and I am sure much much more...

She's been there through it all.  And now she's dying.

The other day I was petting her as she struggled to breathe.  Although she doesn't seem to be in pain, seeing her like this hurts my heart.

I try to spend some time each day just petting her and giving her extra attention.  Yesterday, she seemed to be staring at me as I pet her.  You know how cats do.  (And it can be creepy and eerie.)  But she kept staring.

So I looked at her as I was petting her head and said, "It's okay Belle...we've had a good run, girl.  Thanks for always being there."

She seemed to be satisfied with that.

And it's true...she's been there for 15 plus years, and we sure have had a good run.

I wrote this post last night.  Today, after I got home from work, Annabelle was struggling to walk.  She tried to come into the room but was gasping for air.  I sat on the floor next to her and pet her.  Slowly she laid on her side and took a few last breaths.  I like to think that she waited for me...

Tonight we said goodbye to Annabelle.  And again I said, "We've had a good run, Girl.  Rest in peace."

 

You want it all, but you can't have it.

I was in the car on my way to work the other day and a song came on that seemed to be taunting me.  Like it was yelling my face, "HA...See you can't do it all".

You want it all but you can't have it.
It's in your face but you can't grab it...

Since I have been back to teaching, my work days have been less stressful.  I am not physically exhausted like I was when I had my home daycare. 

But that is how things snuck up on me.  This gave me a false sense of security...or confidence.  I thought that everything was going so well.  This full time working out of the home gig wasn't all too bad.

But then I realized that I had no clean underwear for myself.  My kid spilled syrup on her shirt and I didn't have a back up.  The dishwasher was clean and ready to be emptied...but sat there untouched for 4 days.  I forgot to call about getting our vacuum fixed.  I hadn't made a much needed eye doctor appointment even though I am going on 4 weeks wearing my last pair of contacts.  The bedrooms all looked like war zones.  The clean sheets for my bed were still sitting on the dresser.  (You can imagine how shocked I was to realize that just because I am working all day doesn't mean that I don't still have laundry to do or a house to clean.)

See, it's impossible to have it all...do it all.  Just flat out impossible.  I have come to the conclusion that when you are doing well in one part of your life, another part suffers (even if just slightly).

I want to be a great mom and a great teacher.  I want to make healthy dinners every night, keep up with the laundry, remember all there is to remember, and have a clean house.  

You want it all but you can't have it.
It's in your face but you can't grab it...

So should I keep trying to do it all?  Or do I lower my expectations?


I'm afraid if I do that latter, then NO ONE in the house will have clean underwear and I'll be wearing these contacts for another 3 months.  Because you know the saying "If you give them an inch, they will take a mile".  Well, the same goes for me.  Trust me, I will take the whole frickin' mile...

What I will do is keep trying to get it all done, even though I know it is near impossible.  I will take it day by day...celebrate the little victories, like not screaming at the kids before 7 am.  I'll put those clean sheets on my bed tonight and I will sleep like a damn baby (which is the dumbest saying ever, because babies are horrible sleepers).

But it will get done.  Maybe not ALL of it.  But I don't need to have it all.

Just clean underwear will do.

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