Saturday, August 17, 2013
You might know the type.
She's on every commercial and in every sitcom. She might be middle age and struggling with her own life, but at any second she's ready to share her clothing, host an impromtu dance party, or coach her kid's soccer team. She's fit, well dressed, and make up is perfect.
She's also entirely fictional.
But I want to be the kind of mom that leads by example.
Hey, kids, lets grab your bikes/skates/pets and go hiking.
Veggies are on the table.
I can show you how to do a cart wheel, no problem.
And then reality hits: I'm a 31 year old with a BMI greater than my age that can't carry the kid up the stairs without getting winded...wait, now said kid wants me to SING to her?
We go on walks daily. Or semi daily. My three year old peddles as fast as her little legs can go on her trike (think Dennis the Menace) and I walk with her pushing my 15 month old in the stroller.
We walk slower than I can log on spark. Three year old speed.
And occasionally, when I get sick of three year old speed, we ditch the trike and stroller and wander the neighborhood at one year old speed. Which isn't even activity at all, as last time we laid down to look at the clouds, then hid from the neighbors in the bushes.
The kid's idea, not mine.
Ok, a little of mine.
I'm 12 weeks pregnant with number three and the only thing I can think of: I don't want to be this kind of MOM!!!