Pretending to be normal

I have had occasion recently to wish to be normal.  And by normal I mean not rushed off my feet, juggling after school logistics like an air traffic controller and cooking real meals that don’t take under 20 minutes from fridge to table.  And I know this is the lament of most working mothers so there is really no need to feel sorry for myself.  No need at all.

Having come off the back of an eight day work week involving five events, a music soiree and general life duties, I swear my fingers stopped working and coordinating with my brain.  Literally.  Or perhaps my brain was so tired that while it thought it was telling the fingers what to do, it perhaps didn’t.  Things got dropped.  I am still considering going for a brain scan just in case but I am not one to panic unnecessarily.

Yesterday was the first day, in what seems like forever that I masqueraded as someone normal.  I had a day off work.  I woke up after 8am, and did not leap out of bed like the place was on fire.  I had coffee and went back to bed, watched tv.  Ate chocolate instead of breakfast.  Then it stopped raining, so I got my exercise gear on and took the dog for a walk.  And I pretended I was one of those women that I see in their exercise gear walking the dog in the middle of the day and I think, jeez, that’s the life.  And to give credit to the dog he didn’t yank me all over the coastal walk like a crazed goat on methamphetamines.  So, together we looked normal.

And I have often wondered about those women who don’t work, and this is not said with criticism but with envy, that hang out in the exercise gear all day.  Wondered about what’s up with that?  Well, in case you were wondering, it’s because it’s comfortable.  And if you’re using the compression stuff it makes you feel rather young because nothing jiggles when you walk.  And those exercise bras keep both your boobs and hence your spirit uplifted.  Win win.

You should also not be worried about going about your business in your exercise gear without make-up because, as I learned yesterday, the guys at the deli are still going to recognise you, greet you with the same warmth – because they don’t give a shit what you look like – they just care that you are buying bread for $8 a loaf and feta cheese for $7 a bucket.

And there is no greater joy than having almost half a season of Offspring to catch up on in one afternoon.  Pure happiness.  It has made me a nicer person.  And if that didn’t, the $8 bread, brie and glass of wine I had for dinner certainly did.  I felt like a normal adult.  Even if only for a day.

I found this on the internets the other day.  Bless.

And while this clearly wasn’t the worst two minutes of my life, every day- maybe not so much.

Love the life you’re in.

Love and light

Lauren xxx

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