Mommy Kicked Monday's Ass

I kicked ass yesterday.  I really did.

I ran three miles, starting at 5:45am. Early in my run, I overcame the sharp plantar fasciitis pain in my foot, stiff morning legs and a fond memory of how comfortable my bed felt when my alarm first went off.  I started running even before the sun revealed itself in its entirety in the morning sky.  I set out to run three miles, and I did, through the labored breathing, heavy legs and the slowness that has become enitrely too familiar to me with my aging body.  On any other day, I'd be disappointed in myself for not being fast enough. But yesterday... yesterday, I say I kicked ass.

I put in a good 8 hours of work actually at work and another 3 later at home.  At work, I fielded questions, made decisions, uncovered unknown business rules and supported my co-workers, leaving stuff I knew I could do independently for later in the comforts of my own home. I worked until I could mentally work no more, leaving something I wanted to get done unfinished but with a big dent in it. By the end of the day, my sticky notes of things to do and high-priority things to do were barely addressed.  On any other day, I'd know I worked hard but would be disappointed in my seeming lack of progress or productivity. But yesterday... yesterday, I say I kicked ass.

My bike on the prairie path

In between those sets of working hours, I took my usual train out from the City but de-trained a stop earlier so I could pick my bike up from its long overdue service not even a block from the train station.  I was excited about it. Not only did I feel good about taking care of my bike, but I was looking forward to riding it -- clean and tuned up -- the 8-mile route home that I had mapped out for last week's commute.  And I was proud of myself for doing it.  I had already run 3 miles and worked a full day; instead of getting behind the wheel of a car, I was on my bike, pedalling up and down hills, with and against the wind and in and out of subdivisions until I hit the familiar prairie path near my home. Yes, yesterday... yesterday I say I kicked ass for riding my bike home from the train.

Once home, I had some good time with the Leatherkids.  I was positive and patient.  They were in good spirits.  We laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other's company.  Instead of pulling his folder out of his backpack and looking myself, asked Cal to show me his schoolwork, my new approach to making sure that he knows I'm interested in his schoolwork.  I "ate" food -- some kind of french fry concoction and rainbow fruit -- that Ella fixed for me in her kitchen while I fixed dinner for the family in mine.  We were finished eating and had the kitchen cleaned up by 7:30 when I declared it was time for showers and teeth brushing and books and bedtime, all of which needed to be done by 7:55pm so I could make it to Costco for some animal crackers, Go-gurts and a couple of other much-needed replenishments of Leatherfamily staples.  You know what?  I got full cooperation and wrapped all of it up by 8:03pm, and for that... for that, I say I kicked ass.

With a mental list that contained animal crackers, Go-gurt and Zone bars, I made it to Costco just before 8:15pm.  Afraid of what cart might encourage, I headed cartless right to the Zone bars... ooohh, and right next to them I saw those kid Clif bars that Cal eats for snacks... and then I headed to the animal crackers... and then I saw Go-Go Squeezes... and then Go-Gurts... and grapes... and you can imagine what I looked like balancing all of this stuff -- stuff we needed -- in Costco.  An employee asked if I needed a cart, to which I replied, "I'd love a cart!"  And this enabled me to grab that enormous package of toilet paper that caught my eye and reminded me we needed some... ooohhh, and we (really, I) needed (wanted?) more wine, so I grabbed three bottles.  I did all of this by 8:25pm, paid, showed the guy at the door my receipt and made my way to my car, As I did so, I was passed by a lady running toward the store and declaring she had "three minutes" before they closed.  Yes... I kicked ass at Costco.  It wasn't a 3-minute ass-kicking, but it was an ass-kicking nonetheless.

Not done yet, I had time to get to Trader Joe's before they closed at 9pm.  We needed milk and bread; and I always find something else to get at Trader Joe's.  I could have headed to Jewel a few blocks down the road from Costco, but I feel better shopping at Trader Joe's.  Again, I didn't grab a cart and grabbed a basket instead.  And I filled that baby up with two each of milk and bread... and some lettuce and corn on the cob and hand soap and cheese and some frozen treats for the kids.  Once again, I was asked if I needed a cart; and this time, I responded that I didn't.  The basket filled with groceries was bowing at the handle a bit but really wasn't that heavy.  By 8:55pm, I was paying for it all and by 8:57pm the cashier was carrying my milk out to my car as I carried the rest of the groceries -- I told her I didn't need help, afterall, I knew I was kicking ass huge that day -- but she insisted.  Despite the help, and perhaps because of my acceptance of it, I say I kicked ass at Trader Joe's.

And I was home by a minute or two after 9pm.  I took the perfect route home -- no other route could have been as quick.  I picked the perfect radio station in that the catchy song "Cheerleader" (OMI) was aired and made me smile -- it always does. I sang along with it. In selecting and executing my perfect route home and singing a happy tune, I say I kicked ass.

So that was my Monday -- relatively typical, perhaps a little more activity than usual, but, really, not much more.  It had its ups and downs, thrills and disappointments.  It had its share of stresses, too.  But my perspective on it made all the difference in the world. I really didn't know how good it really was as it was happening and only realized the ass-kicking I was giving my day late in my bike ride home from the train station.  I felt good about myself and all that I had accomplished even at that point; and this recognition triggered my having an extremely positive perspective as I finished out the rest of my day.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the day's activities.  What was out of the ordinary was how I perceived it.  In the moment, it's easy to criticize myself for my shortcomings, be it physical, mental, or parental.  But looking back at the full set of what I might do in a day... I do kick ass.  And on Monday, I gave myself some credit for that.