As I put my ten month-old down for his nap which, as any parent knows, can range anywhere from twelve to two hundred minutes, I started to think of all of the important tasks that I need to complete today. I can’t remember the last time I scrubbed the toilet, and there is a glistening puddle of cat vomit waiting for me in the living room. I have to pack to go away for the weekend, and I never leave my bed unmade when going on a trip, just in case I die. I want my parents and friends to be able to come and reminisce about all the good times they had with me while sitting on my freshly made bed. It only seems right.
The Hot Mom book on my side table says I should aim for roughly 600 hours on the elliptical if I want to get rid of baby belly fat and batwing arms. There are still Cheerios all over the kitchen table, which I used as more of a tool for distraction than nutrition while trying to scramble an egg for baby B, eat microwaved Pho (this is probably the Hot Mom caloric equivalent of 3 hours of cartwheels up a steep hill but can also be fixed with liposuction!!!!!!) and check my Facebook feed simultaneously. I should probably start thinking about the baby shower decorations I promised to make for a party that’s two days away.
This is basically every day. These are the things I convince myself are the most important. Cat puke. Dirty toilets. Shiny floors.
These are the things that are less important. The things that take time but don’t always show.
Just doing things instead of always trying to just get things done.
When and why did I decide that a clean house counted for more than the things that I actually enjoy doing? Who am I trying to impress? My husband, who honestly doesn’t notice the Cheerios? Seriously. He doesn’t. My parents, who would remember me fondly whether my bed is made or not? My baby, who just wants to play with me and eat at least 3 more eggs before the day is out?
I feel like I am (or should be) aspiring to be something – a super fit writer/painter/photographer/great mom/Wordpress expert/interior designer/awesome wife/perfect daughter/hilarious friend/inspirational teacher/master chef/Pokemaster/good Samaritan/expert gardener/ ohmygoshIdon’tknowsomeonehelpmefigureitoutbeforeidie – but I can’t seem to determine how to get started, because I want to be them all. So I’m just going to start here for now, doing the things that I love with the people I love, trying not to worry so much about the footprints on the floor, and hopefully one thing might inspire another.
It looks like my time is up for now anyway – nap time is over. In case you were wondering, this one was approximately 57 minutes.
THE ASPIRING SOMETHING 