Every weekday, we wake up, take Daddy to work and head off to the gym. We check out the fish in the fish tank on the way in because they're the exact same set up as in Finding Nemo. We find Nemo and Dory, label their colors, and I pretend like I'm in the fish tank by going on the other side and making a fish face. Cracks them up. 5 seconds of mommy fame, check.
Then we play on the empty indoor playground for about 15 minutes. Reese climbs to the top, Riggs wears out the slide, I chase them a time or two, and shadow Riggs as he runs around popping breakfast in his mouth every chance I get. The kid only eats on the move. *Eye roll* Then I tell Reese one more time to the top and it's time to go get a sticker at daycare. Yes, I take my kids to the gym daycare. I do me, you do you.
Reese runs to daycare, opens the door, and all the workers are like "Reese!" They love her. Or so they say! Lol Riggs is a bit of a harder sell on the daycare sitch. He's a tad clingy these days, and I kind of love it/kind of hate it. I walk him in, ease him in, and then run off when he's not looking. Works like a charm.
We have a pretty set routine, you know? But then I started second guessing how much routine I like for myself and the kids. Am I crippling them because they have such a set schedule? I hope that doesn't sound obnoxious, but I genuinely started second guessing how I choose to be a mom and what works for me. Does that ever happen to you? I hate feeling that way! No one likes feeling like they're not doing things the way they should be done. But then I had some serious self reflection with the Man Upstairs. I read some talks by some of my favorite men.
And just like that, I felt a whole lot better. Love me some uplifting talks y'all.