Making time

This is what our entry looks like so far. We need more clocks.

Up until a month or so ago, I could not understand why I don’t have time to work out, take the girls for a walk or heavens forbid be able to sit and paint or do something fun for an hour. I mean, straight from work, I’m in the kitchen and by the time we’ve eaten, there’s just no energy to do anything other than veg on the couch.

I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it earlier in life. It’s actually so simple. Get up earlier!

So lately, the alarm goes off at 6:17 and if we dare press snooze, Lily and Poppy will be on the bed and sitting on top of us in a heartbeat. The remaining option then (you try sleep with a labrador and a retriever on top of you), to suck it up and get up.

We take the girls for a run-turn-brisk-walk cause no one is fit enough yet, and there’s plenty of time to water my veggie patch and the Sweet Alyssum that have started to sprout. Breakfast can be made without any urgency and coffee can be had on the stoep. Nice. Like real old people =P

The time that I would usually spend sleeping and lying in now get used productively. When I’m on my death-bed one day, I honestly doubt I’ll wish that I slept more. No, I was smelling the roses outside.

In addition, hubby’s come up with a new thing and I’m obliged to do it too. There are set nights now, that we spend an hour or more after supper on our most passionate hobbies. He plays guitar, I paint. Call it Hobby Hour or Power Hour if you must. It seems daft, but if you don’t MAKE time for the things you want to do, you will never have time to do the things you want to.

So now when ten o’clock rolls on by I’m still paste like I would’ve been if I only got up at 8 or 8:30, but the garden has been watered, the veggies tended to, the girls walked and my bum worked out.

Like hubs said the other: “There’s nothing wrong with your bum. I love ALL of it.

ALL of it. Gmf.

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