Going With The Flow

For quite some time I have been a list-maker. I have used lists big and small to help me on my path. Lists for scheduling, lists for housework, lists for whatever I couldn't keep bottled inside my head long enough to remember. And for me, they work. I feel motivated when I write on my white board in the morning and cross off items from my "To-Do" list as I go about my day.

However lately my daily "To-Do's" have been left uncrossed and ignored for weeks at a time. Things I would normally rush through in the ease of a morning where my children watch cartoons and silently munch on muffins while leaving an array of crumbs beneath the cushions, have become so incredibly hard. The motivation is gone. The momentum is becoming increasingly slow and I find myself caring less and less if things on my list don't get done by the end of the day. I look around my home and find the clutter that once drove me up a wall easy to ignore if it means I can just sit for a few minutes more.

I recognize this is most likely because I am in my sixth month of pregnancy and that every step I take now leaves me wanting to scream in agony. I mean really, no one was kidding when they said your third pregnancy is the hardest. My body and mind are exhausted and I am in no rush to push myself any father then I can on any given day. My efforts are directed towards potty training Trace and helping Phoenix with her physical therapy. I feel like I ask Trace to sit on the potty a million times a day and I beg him more often to stay on it longer then five minute increments. He fights me tooth and nail and I can see how boring it must be to sit with your pants around your ankles while your sister is off having a blast rolling all over the carpet and making silly faces into the fire-place glass covering. Who wouldn't want to be doing the same? And just as I give in and don't want to fight any longer, I pull up his pants and that's when the poop starts falling out of his underwear. It never fails. This in itself on a daily basis is tiring.

Yes my neurotic self continues to make mental note of the cat fur blowing in the corner of the dining room (maybe I will get to that after I write this) and of course I am dying to de-clutter my basement. But I just can't right now. And I have accepted it guiltlessly. Which for me is huge considering all I ever want to do is clean. This is my last go around on the pregnancy train and I am going to cut myself some slack and wallow in my pain and swollen ankles. I see the time spent with the kids now is so important and I know once another baby is added to the mix I will appreciate that I (in my eyes) lazily enjoyed an afternoon reading the Cat in the Hat and blaring music while Trace whines on the potty. 

So for now I don't give a hoot about the fur in the corners of the room. I just want to close my eyes and kick up my feet.
As for this, I took a deep breath and let Trace do the honors of cleaning...


2 comments:

John Petter said...

They looks so cute.
Divawash

Sadie Dear said...

Oh, girl.... I feel you down in my bones, even if I am not pregnant myself. I only have the one kid, and he gives me heck everyday. I can't keep up, so why would I expect you to even try! The to-do list is for the birds. I say: it's summertime anyway. Let it be summer, and make lists again when the sun goes back where it came from. Or something like that.

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