The Only Thing Better Would Have Been A Glass Of Wine While Walking

Tonight I watched the BFFs kids at dinnertime.  My house was in total pandamonium.  Two four year-olds and two two year-olds yelling, screaming, playing the piano, telling stories, asking questions, and refusing dinner.  I loved it.

After they left, I got my kids in their jammies, brushed their teeth, read stories, sang two songs, said a prayer, and kissed them goodnight.  When I closed the door to their room, I looked out the window.  Light.  At 8:10 pm, the sun was down but the sky was blue.  I looked at Dave and said, "I'm heading out for a walk.  Just a quick one."

For the next 20 minutes, I processed work and home and packaged those problems into neat bundles.  They're stored away in tidy boxes on the shelves of my brain until tomorrow, or the next time I have to deal with them.

As I turned on the loop and began heading for home, I realized that when I was done putting the kids down, I'd been faced with a choice.  I could have sat down and enjoyed a glass of wine, which would have likely turned into two.  I would have awoken tomorrow retaining water and feeling generally sluggish.  Since Alexandria's been born, that's the usual pick.  But I opted instead for a walk in fresh air, under blue skies and green trees.

While walking, I recalled an interview for Big Brothers Big Sisters.  I was asked, "What do you do to relieve stress?"
"I go for a run."
"What do you do if you have a really bad day at work?"
"I go for a run."
"What do you do if you are experiencing tension with your partner?"
"I go for a run."

I was like a robot in that conversation, but it was the truth.  The way I stayed sane was by running.  It put the world back in order for me.  I could think quietly for about 45 minutes and by the time I got home, all my problems were scattered behind me on the pavement.

Tonight marked the first time since having kids that I revisited the habit of exercising to relieve stress, anxiety, tension, or just get some quiet.

Twenty minutes later I walked through my door.  I'd worked out work problems, decided my legs are looking good, marvelled at the bright red streaks of cloud across the sky, and contemplated the end of Alexandria's preschool.

Slowly but surely, old parts of me are emerging like grass blades popping through the snow.  The kids are a little older, and perhaps I'm less winded by the responsibilities of the day.  I don't have as much clean up or prep work to do at night.  I guess tonight was the first night in a long time where when the kids went down, I was done.  I didn't have to be drill sargeant general harpee mom.  She sucks.  I could be Natalie again.  I like her.

No real moral to the story.  Just a little sharing time.