There is a down side to having kids at a "mature" age and that is: age itself. I am tired. If I were a car, I'd have a bright orange sticker on my forehead saying, "We are going to tow your mom/wife in 15 days unless you come and claim her." Today, I plopped down on the daybed out of pain and exhaustion of trying to wear out my boys. It was when I finally told my six-year old he could turn on the forbidden-Satan-infused television that he actually became concerned.
Every five minutes, he brought me a glass of water.
I drank it, of course, so as not to hurt his feelings. But all I wanted to do was shut my eyes and fade away. My back is a contraption for pain right now. Could be the humidity, could be the hundreds of pounds I pack into my backpack everyday to schlep the boys all across the city. Could be...I'm just getting old. All I know was after the fifth time my boy woke me up to give me a glass of water, I was wishing that a drug dealing Jesus would intercept a refill and say, "Here, little guy - give your mom these percocets to accompany that."
No such luck.
In my daily journal, I wrote "Why do I torture myself so."
What's the torture, you say? Trying to take two boys on adventurous adventures that don't cost money other than the five bucks I have to pay for my subway fare. That's what. It means packing a lunch, tons of water, change of clothes and a gallon of sunblock. By the end of the day, you bet I'm ready to chug a pint or five of whatever is on sale.
Recently, I came upon a blog entry by Single Mama NYC about working out. It was gospel. Though I can't say that I hate working out, it is a necessity I'd give up if I didn't find myself needing it. I've done friggin' P90X with my husband for the past year and a half and I have to say, it's not as torturous as dragging around two boys on the subway to a free pool or park or whatever, All. Freaking. Day. Long.
Although, it may sound like it - I'm really not complaining. I love challenges. It's why I tried to be the first female-Japanese/American-Rock-Guitarist and married my husband and gave birth to a future drummer (future Ozzy Osborne employees in my book).
My mother will be the first to tell you - if she hasn't already - I never take the easy road.
This is not a gimmick. Stay tuned just to see if I survive this August as camp counselor.