PJ loves to play mama. She pushes her stroller around, and shushes her babies to sleep; she asks if they’re hungry or if they have poopy. But lately when she plays mama she says sorry…a lot. In her little higher than normal mimic play voice she says ‘sorry’, ‘sorry people’.
That shook me. Do I say sorry that often? I listened to myself. I do. I actually do. I say sorry when I mean excuse me. I say sorry when I start a request at a coffee shop. I say sorry when I mean nothing of the sort. I’m not sorry. Or am I?
Lately I’ve been sorry. For not being able to push through. For getting sick over and over. For not being the shining Haute Volée human that is fist pumping her way to a finish line. Or crushing50 40 mile weeks. For just being a average 30 something, who’s trying not to use wine as a crutch and keeps snipping at her husband. Who’s losing sleep over houses and sewer lines and why my kid keeps saying sorry.
I was planning to race the Rock n Roll Seattle Half. But I’m not racing it anymore. I wrote the coordinator last week. It was really hard for me to do it. I beat myself up over it, why couldn’t I get it together? Why not just race? Even after spending the day throwing up. Or accurately, spent the day throwing up and forcing myself to walk through 5 houses in Tacoma, as the black of sickness closed in tighter and tighter and I could barely walk. I still thought "maybe I’m being a wimp".
Because when the going gets tough, the tough get going. If it were easy everyone would do it. No days off. Just do it.
Saying no can be harder than saying yes.
No. I’m not sorry.
That shook me. Do I say sorry that often? I listened to myself. I do. I actually do. I say sorry when I mean excuse me. I say sorry when I start a request at a coffee shop. I say sorry when I mean nothing of the sort. I’m not sorry. Or am I?
Lately I’ve been sorry. For not being able to push through. For getting sick over and over. For not being the shining Haute Volée human that is fist pumping her way to a finish line. Or crushing
I was planning to race the Rock n Roll Seattle Half. But I’m not racing it anymore. I wrote the coordinator last week. It was really hard for me to do it. I beat myself up over it, why couldn’t I get it together? Why not just race? Even after spending the day throwing up. Or accurately, spent the day throwing up and forcing myself to walk through 5 houses in Tacoma, as the black of sickness closed in tighter and tighter and I could barely walk. I still thought "maybe I’m being a wimp".
Because when the going gets tough, the tough get going. If it were easy everyone would do it. No days off. Just do it.
Saying no can be harder than saying yes.
No. I’m not sorry.