Mama Needs a Refill

Shrunk

I had big plans for today. The kids have a school holiday. I was planning a dream day. I was going to clean the entire house and write. Daughter is at a friend’s, son has three buddies over, a day to nest and get everything in order. I worked a bunch this week, had lots of evenings out, time to catch up on the house.  In my big dreams, the four boys would play as I snapped my fingers like Mary Poppins turning the house into spit spot perfection.

I planned on writing a piece on the wonderful retreat that happened this week. I was going to tell you all about the success of Mama Needs A Refill’s first mini-retreat, the sack lunch series on The Physical Cup. I was going to report on the women’s discoveries, our reflections, our joy that came out of gathering together.

In the 1980’s something movie, Honey I Shrunk the Kids, the miniaturized children had to wave their arms wildly on many occasions before their parents could see them. My physical needs are waving their arms today and I am resisting.

So focused on my agenda, not honoring, but very aware of my physical needs and the waving arms trying to get my attention. Sleep and water. But instead I am drinking coffee at 3:50 in the afternoon, so I can make things spit spot and publish this blog.

This is exactly what the retreat was about this week: being aware of and honoring our physical needs. I have the awareness part down. So aware that I am tired from not getting my normal amount of sleep, depleted from not having enough water, out of whack from not getting to yoga. Perhaps I am not down about it because I have meditated and socialized for my spiritual need and read for my mental need. It can be such a balancing act to do it all, take care of all my needs. That is why I have not showered and am drinking coffee in the late afternoon on this dream day.

My big plans shrunk, but along with it comes a realization that the shrunk down version may just be right for today. I may not have a spit spot house, but the bathroom is clean, the stairs are vacuumed. One kitchen counter is cleared. The boys couldn’t be happier climbing on the furniture spreading cracker crumbs and I couldn’t be happier having completed this blog, drinking my water with my hot coffee, refreshed from sitting on the couch for five minutes, feet up, to write this.

Often our big plans have to be shrunk down to reality. My son's erasers, lost in my empty cup, shown above. Today in my reality, cup is not completely empty, just aware of the missing spots, where I can use a refill.