Updated: Dec 23, 2021
I had a tough day today. Work was hard, and then I came home to my other job, child-rearing, which had yet another long list of chores to get done, you know, getting the kids fed, bathed, lunches made, homework etc. I was already in a bad mood because of work, and then my five-year-old son started acting up. I swear he sensed that I had no patience. And then the inevitable happened, I snapped. Then he snapped. The next thing I know, he’s yelling, kicking and punching, I’m yelling at him, trying to get him to stop, and my daughter is screaming at the top of her lungs, wanting both of us to stop. Calling it a hot mess would be an understatement. After about an hour of this, we managed to calm everyone down, and finally, the kids went to bed.
The “incident” took the last ounce of energy I had left entirely out of me. I was exhausted. Usually, when the kids go to sleep, that is my time to work out, but tonight, all I wanted to do was get into my jammies and watch Bridgerton for the 100th time. I went from feeling guilty for yelling, thinking, if only I didn’t snap, then none of this would have happened, to googling are epic temper tantrums normal for five-year-olds? (The answer is yes, yes they are.)
As much as I didn’t want to work out, I knew that sitting on the couch and feeling like the worst parent in the world and that I’d permanently scarred my child wasn’t going to help. In fact, it would make things worse. I know that when I don’t get enough exercise, I have trouble sleeping, I get irritable, I tend to have anxious racing thoughts. Basically, it’s no Bueno for me.
And for all of these reasons, I know I “should” work out, but guilting myself or “shoulding myself” wasn’t going to get me off of that sweet, sweet couch. So instead of being hard on myself or playing a game of “should I/ shouldn’t I” ping pong. I got myself in a comfy position, closed my eyes and took some deep breaths until my
mind was quiet. At that point, I asked my body. “Hey body, what do you want to do?” All of a sudden, I felt a surge of energy, which is my body’s way of telling me, WORK OUT, BITCH!!!!
Once I heard that sailor's inner voice, it was hard to deny it. So I got on my workout clothes, and I worked out. The point of this story is that our body is always trying to tell us something, but we just don’t listen. We overanalyze things, and quite often, our brain gets in the way. So when you find yourself in a similar situation, try listening to your body instead of your thoughts. Your body will never steer you wrong.
There have been many times where I asked my body this very question, and it responds with a REST, BITCH and that’s when I put on my jammies, pour myself a glass of wine and queue up episode 5 of Bridgeton on Netflix. (You know what I’m talking about!)
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