Thursday, November 11, 2010

Cross Training

I don't enjoy cross training. Running works for me so I stick with it. Although I enjoy rollerblading and riding a bicycle, I always feel like I won't contribute to the sweat factor, multiplied by muscle exertion, with either of the other cardio exercises unless I spend 2 hours doing them. Stupid, I know.

Cross training in life is different. I like cross training in life. I don't enjoy doing the same thing every day at work so I chose a job with flexibility and constant fluidity. Since I have four children, nothing is the same at home other than homework and packing lunches.

At the moment I am completely overwhelmed. Our weekly home schedule is packed but not out of control while my work load is out of control. The waterline is so high I am drowning, for now. I know that the waterline will not always be this high and that often life's waterline fluctuates just as it does during the rainy season and seasons of dry weather.

I miss writing. I miss relaxing with a magazine or in front of a sitcom on television. I work all day and finish things up at night. "You're still working?" my teenage boys questions as he walks into the kitchen. When I nod my head while tapping on the computer keys he asks me why. I tell him the story about my waterline at work but before I can finish he is grabbing a snack and leaving prior to the conclusion of my eloquent story. He obviously isn't interested.

I'm feeling the pull of wanting to be here when the kids get home from school to ask them about their day over salty snacks, but for now I arrive home after 5. When I arrive I am plagued with questions, whining, complaints, and comments. I try not to react and to listen instead. I try to be patient and spend time with each child devoting my moment with them to engaged, active, listening butmy mind is on dinner plans and the next appointment,

Right now the cross training is difficult.

The sameness would be a welcome addition to my day, however, that will have to wait until Christmas. I am asking Santa for big sack of sameness with a side of extra time.

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