Oh the slippery slope

I often have the best of intentions. With our house hunkered down fighting yet another bug, I have had little energy to do much but ponder things, including these good intentions of mine. I started 2013 with a plan. A solid, family focused plan. It was going to work! How could it not? My goals were clear and attainable, the result an obvious improvement. 2013 was going to rock.

Well, it seems that 2013 has had plans of its own for me, and my little clan. We have been hit by one illness of a kind followed by its cousin and nephew and so on. I have already, repeatedly admitted that I am the worst pregnant woman on the planet. If I am pregnant, that is all I can do. . .I have no energy for anything else. I used to berate myself for this which only made me even more miserable. I need to work at not excelling at everything, or expecting excellence of myself. (I know that sounds really pompous but it really much sadder than that. I am struggling with my identity since leaving the professional world.)

I didn't not realize that at some point I began to judge myself based on my accomplishments. This was easy when I had a successful career.When I left that career to be a Mama, this became a tad more difficult. I found it difficult to pat myself on the back after a long day unless I had mowed the lawn, mopped the floor, taken Eli to the park, organized a closet, completed a load of laundry and made dinner. .. all the while maintaining a sunny disposition. hahahah. For real. For a while there, my house sparkled and I was miserable.

In reality, if I had succeeded in doing all that I thought that I should complete in a day, by 4:30 I was a troll. I had no patience, no humor, no smile. It was not worth it. I scaled back a little bit. Being pregnant and ill whilst transitioning Evan, I cut back some more. This did not sit well with me. Was I really okay with simply keeping myself and my kids alive? Hip Hip Hooray! Another day and we are all in one piece. .. No. This does not feel like success.

madness. my days are pure madness.

With 2013 I decided I needed to amend my idea of success and be a little more gentle with myself. I am very sick with this pregnancy and I am exhausted with the transition of having two toddlers to wrangle all day long. (I know! Excuses, excuses!)  Pushing myself to get loads done around the house was depleting my little store of energy and again reducing the humor and patience I had for my kids and my spouse. I resolved to focus on maintaining my sanity and patience with my kids and my spouse..  .if the laundry sat for a while, and the floors were not sparkling the world would not end. It would not relegate me to the halls of inadequate mothers. (This is what I told myself when I made this resolution. I hope it is true.)

Oh yes. ..see the bags under those weary eyes? Mama is tired!

For the most part this has worked. I have much more patience with my children despite my continued exhaustion. However, this relaxation of my daily duties has extended to my personal appearance; a side effect I did not realize would present so quickly and so obviously
It is a matter of fact that I make here. I am not shocked or embarrassed about recent events. Perhaps I should be but I cannot  be bothered.

Once upon a time I used to get dressed every day. Now, I can spend the week in modified pjs. Once upon a time, I would never leave the house without at least a touch of makeup on. NEVER. This used to grate on my dear hubby's nerves. Well, no longer.

Friday night, the dinner hour was upon me. . .Hubby could not be fussed with telling me what he wanted for dinner. I needed to grocery shop but did not feel up to it. I decided to go and get something. It needed to be gotten quickly so I went as I was. No makeup. Hair.. .shocking. Outfit, equally shocking. I was in pj pants, my father's XL Steelers pullover jacket and my bright red TOMS.

Photographic proof.. . out of the house. Steelers jacket. . .sans makeup.

I called my sister giggling all the way to the restaurant. I could not believe I was out in public looking such a wreck. I obviously got over it.. . .even though I did not leave the house today after church, I cannot explain this lovely get-up. Hubby had to good sense not to remark upon it, but perhaps he should have?

I know the angle is quite flattering. My husband is a lucky man.  :)

Will there be a time when I will have the energy to care about moments like that? Will pride in my appearance return? Lucky for me, my kids do not seem to mind at this moment, but I am sure if this carries on until they are school age, I will hear about it. Surely by that time my energy and pride will have returned. Or have I fallen down that slippery slope, never to return? Can it get worse than this?