It was a rough weekend over here. Hubby came down with a nasty stomach virus on friday night and was quarantined to the bedroom. So my day went like this:
Taught yoga class
Fed kids lunch
Put baby down for his nap
Entertained older kids
Took all three kids to a birthday party to get them out of the house (hubby sounded violently sick)
Came back from party- oh did I mention it was pouring rain?
Fed baby, gave him a bath, put on pj’s
Dropped oldest son off at a friend’s house, took other 2 to the grocery store
Picked up oldest, put baby to bed, put food away, showered and put other two to bed
collapsed on couch
Before, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. Now, I know I can’t do this. I was tired Saturday night, but on sunday I had tingling and numbness in my arms again and I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I actually slept almost the whole day. I only remember putting on a movie for the kids in the morning, feeding the baby once, and explaining to the oldest, from the couch, how to microwave popcorn. Luckily the hubby as feeling better to come out and supervise. But I was out of it.
It was a hard lesson that I just can’t operate the same. This broken body won’t let me. I am not in control, it is and I have to listen to it. It just amazes me how fast this seems to come on. Just a few months ago this would have been no big deal. I could operate at 120%. Now I have to scale it back and watch the internal speedometer.
Maybe it’s a small note for us all to take. I just talked to a friend tonight whose first child is turning one tomorrow and we couldn’t believe how fast the year had gone. Time flies, we all know that, but what are we focusing our time on? Running around all over the place. What are we teaching our children with our actions? Wearing ourselves down. What are the memories we are leaving behind? The legacies?