Ouch.. That is all I have to say about today's 'jog'. Accompanied by the Special Forces sister, whom I am now beginning to suspect is a closet Nazi, I can safely say I have never experienced such prolonged agony in all my life. Okay so perhaps I am exaggerating slightly, having had four children I appreciate there have been other more painful moments, but only marginally so! Her motto for our jaunt this morning was "if it doesn't make you puke, you're not trying hard enough", so there would be no relent until either the contents of my stomach were splattered over the pavement or I suffered a fatal collapse. I had aimed to complete the four miles in 45 minutes. We actually finished in 48 minutes, which taking in to account the fact I did walk a short distance, wasn't half bad. None of this would have been at all achievable without the horse-whipper of course. Joking aside I am really very grateful that one of us was born without the lazy wimp gene - my sister is amazing and one of the most beautiful and talented women I know.
The downside to the experience is (aside from the searing pain and inability to breathe) I am now only capable of the most feeble hobble when trying to move. Initially upon my return I felt great, utterly tripping on endorphins, and launched straight in to a mega cleaning frenzy. Gradually over the last three hours or so though my muscles have progressively seized and I am now at the point where a Stannah Stair Lift would be most welcome.
Additionally, due to my inability to stand straight and the fact I have been so busy with housework, I am now Mrs Un-popular for suggesting my children eat cereal for tea. Perhaps if they hadn't already had it for breakfast and lunch it would be less of a big ask, although personally I feel they should be grateful to even have three meals a day. After all when we were young we'd be lucky to eat that in a week. Euan is currently walking around chuntering and grunting obscenities, occasionally managing to pronounce words like "starving" and "Childline". Danny on the other hand is delighted at the prospect of avoiding the dinner table, and time away from his beloved X-box, proving that rearing a console-obsessed slob does have it's advantages.
I often look at the kids and wonder what it is I am raising. On a good day Euan is intelligent, witty, caring, hard working and considerate; Danny is imaginitive, tender, sensitive and funny; Charlotte is studious, good-humoured, generous, loving and helpful and Maisey is cute as cute can be. On a bad day though, Oh My Gosh. Euan is a self centred, aggravating, neanderthalic Chav; Danny is an unwashed, irritating zombie-clone from Planet Zod; Charlotte is a screeching, wailing, pants-obsessed banshee and Maisey is, thankfully, still cute as a button. And a lot of their bad behaviour I feel stems from my own personal lack; of discipline, of time, of order, of meals. It does scare me that when they grow up they will look back and resent me for the mistakes I am making. Sadly we all do it, no matter how perfect we try to be (and if I'm honest I really don't actually even try to be perfect - it's too hard!). What's even sadder is that my children won't realise why I failed until they have their own, by which point it may be too late.
Anyway, no time to dwell on that right now. I have two Church lessons to prepare for tomorrow and a large Sunday Dinner to get ready as I've friends coming over. One of whom I haven't seen for ten years so naturally I'm wanting to create the impression of a perfect family and home life. Hence why I have chosen to spend so much of today cleaning the house instead of feeding anyone. Ironic isn't it! All I need to figure out now is how much to bribe the kids with for their best behaviour, and how to make it look like Chris and I are happily married. Hmmmmm. This could be a hard one.
x x
You can do it ! You can do it ! You weren't made to live on jacket spuds for NOTHING as a child ! It's wot made you HARD !!!!
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