Not long ago a friend of mine asked me how far I was running, and then made the mistake of taking it one step further… “How far do you think you could run if you just kept going?” What an interesting question. I wasn’t tired at the end of a run so I was sure I could increase my distance. It started me wondering… how far could I run. Not in a “Forest Gump” kind of way, but rather, in a “what if I didn’t have to wrap things up before I’m ready because somebody is up from their nap” way. I did everything I could to push myself, and so far I am up to about 7 to 8 miles a day.

I could still go on, but after about an hour I just start making myself feel guilty about not being with the kids. My mother spent at least 2 hours a day watching soap operas, while I played in my room alone. I doubt she ever thought anything of it, she was the parent and she wanted to watch soaps. That’s just the way it was. For me, taking an hour to exercise makes me feel like I am neglecting my motherly duties.

I have not watched “grownup T.V.” during the day in years. It drives me crazy to think about my kids seeing anything questionable or scary. When I was a kid I was terrified of the Tidy Bowl Man. The ad played all the time during One Life to Live. My fear was so strong that I was forced to flush the toilet with my foot and then run like hell down the hall before he could reach out of the pipes and pull me onto his little boat. I’d hate to think of the boys having that kind of psychological damage from a Capital One commercial. They may end up dateless on prom night and blame me…”If only mom didn’t make me watch Ellen that day back in 2006. I can’t imagine how guilty I would feel after an hour of General Hospital.

Anyway, as you can imagine, parental guilt is no stranger to me. I actually feel ashamed of trying to take care of myself. My kids have me and D, we live about 20 feet from their grandparents, and they see other family members every week. I assure you they are at absolutely no shortage for attention. I keep trying to remind myself of these important facts, yet it never seems to do any good.

As much as I enjoy blogging even this seems like yet another thing that sucks time out of my day. Time that should be spent doing laundry, baking homemade cookies and all of the other activities that would fill the hours of the “perfect mom”. I know I have said this many times, I actually write this blog for my kids. Yes it is therapeutic, yes I have met a lot of nice people, but ultimately this is a record of history for them to look back on as they grow. I need to make more time for it without all the guilt. I may not be able to promise to write more but I am going to try my best to get over the idea that I should feel guilty about doing anything not directly child related.