Who, me?

On the weekend I spread five bags of mulch on the garden, and refilled those five bags with weeds I dug out of the areas that I did not get mulched before Liam was born last year. I moved a couple of plants around and took out a few others that have never quite cut it. There’s a daphne that I put into a three-foot-wide space several years ago, that is currently at least five feet wide and still going strong; it’s starting to bloom, and as soon as it’s finished and its wonderful fragrance is gone, I’m going to rip it out and replace it with some other shrub that promises to behave better. There is a nice view into the yard from our kitchen window again. Life is good.

Two things surprised me about doing this work. Number one, I was surprised by how much I was able to accomplish in a relatively short amount of time (working on things only while Liam was napping). Number two, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Even the weeding, which is typically my most-dreaded outdoor chore, was fun. It occurred to me, as I was having too much fun excavating thistle roots that went at least six inches deep, how much I missed my garden last year; how I loved those early months with Liam, but how having time for the garden again this year is going to be good for me. Not to mention how good it’s going to be for Chad, who I think was close to abandoning any hope that the time and money we’d spent on backyard landscaping after we moved in was worthwhile.

Which brings me to a new tenet of this mothering thing, which I knew was going to be inevitable sooner or later, but I admit I was expecting it later rather than sooner: remembering me. Making time for myself and for things I like to do, regardless of Liam. It’s wonderful to try to work my interests around his schedule, but it’s not always possible; and now that he is a bit older, a bit more independent, I’m starting to feel better about spending more time tending to myself. I will still try to work weeding sessions to coincide with his naps, though I hope the day comes soon when he can be outside puttering around the yard with me. But along the same vein, I am thinking of returning to my Monday night Pump class. I miss it. I was at the gym on Friday morning while a Pump class was taking place, and I was watching through the aerobics studio windows and realized how much I missed going. The morning classes’ timing doesn’t work for me, but I am thinking of going back one night a week, something that will still let me be around for dinner time and maybe (if I really shake a leg) even let me catch some cuddle time with Liam before he goes to bed. Monday nights also work well because I will be coming off my weekend fix of spending time with him. Now if only I could rope Megan into going with me instead of trying her new class for the next couple of months… it might almost be a sure thing. :)