Guess what, my thighs jiggle when I run. Yep. They do. And I don’t care. I run for me.
Guess what. I am not a professional runner. Maybe a professional toddler chaser, but not a professional runner. I am not going to win any races, or set any land speed records. Some days I huff out 14-minute miles as I push a double stroller with two preschoolers snoozing inside. I just breath in the peace and quiet- taking a moment to gather my thoughts. Other days I race to keep up with the dog, sprinting full speed. Feeling the burn in my legs and chest- which oddly feels so good and exactly what I need in that moment.
I am a mom of two young kids. We have our good days and we have our bad days. Either way the days are long, really long.
I find myself at times, missing my “old self”, the pre-mom self. The self that is not a mom. It’s hard when day in and day out you are taking care of everyone around you. You are constantly giving away little pieces of yourself. Sometimes, you just give it all away. At the end of certain days… you’re just empty!
Today I was a patient… I sat in the toddler’s doctor’s office nestled between the toy kitchen and the toy bin. Getting my vitals checked and recheck, as my back slowly ached from the hard wood floor I rested on.