Excuses



I posted this picture on Instagram Sunday with a list of things I should be doing.  I should have gotten out of bed and gone on a run.  I should have got up and made breakfast from scratch instead of a can. I should have cleaned and cooked and got my house in order for the week.

But you guys know me and know better.


I went to Michael's and the Dollar Store for Girl Scout/Room Mom stuff.  I fed my family canned cinnamon rolls for breakfast, Taco Bell for lunch, and grilled cheese for dinner.  I started laundry at 6 pm instead of 6 am.  I treated Sunday like a Sunday.  For rest and leisure and fun.

A few weeks ago, there was a big stink in Internet land about excuses.  A fitness blogger, who is also a mom of 3 boys, posted a picture of herself, in all her fitness glory, with her three boys and posed the question, What's your excuse?  The Internet world was set afire with support and condemnation. People lit her up like a forest fire, calling her out, and criticizing her life.  Things got personal, very personal.  I didn't participate, but I read a fare share of comments that were either supportive or horrifically degrading to this mom/fitness guru.

Look, I get it.  No one wants to be called out from the couch.  Even I get huffy when my Instagram feed is clogged with 5 am Club posts.  People out on runs or walks, or at the gym. It makes me feel glutenous and sloth like.  Then I remember that I have a choice.  I can be motivated or I can say, not today.  Because we don't always have the chance to work out, or hit the pavement.  Some days we don't even have the time for a shower.  And yes, these are all excuses.  So sue me.  I have excuses. And I use them.

One of my closest friends is a workout/fitness guru.  She has an amazing body, and she is very proud of it.  She has been posting her journey for the last six weeks as she is going to be in a bikini/body building contest.  Her body is amazing and she has worked really hard to get there.  You would think that her posts would make me feel bad about myself, but they don't.  Not even a little.  In fact they helped me come to terms with my reality.

My friend finds happiness in the gym.  Her excuse is the gym.  She will admit that freely to you.  Want to have dinner?  She will say, Can't I'm teaching a class or taking a class at the gym.  She loves to be at the gym, pushing her body and power to the limit.  Good for her. This is where she finds happiness, and I'm good with that.

My happiness is here.  At home, writing my blog, getting my craft on, or watching The Mindy Project. Sure I work out, but it really doesn't bring me the same joy as reading to my kids, or watching the Little Mermaid with them.  The gym doesn't bring me the same joy as sitting down and writing a post, or a short story, or working on larger writing projects.  I'm happy right here, so my excuse is my blog, or my writing.  Sometimes my excuses are my children, or dinner, or girls scouts or dance. Sometimes I can't do the laundry that particular day, because I've had a stroke of inspiration and if I stop typing now I'll lose it.  See, this is my excuse, and I'm not sorry for it.

We all have excuses, but let's celebrate them.  Some of us have our half marathons, our paleo diets, our smoothie challenges.  Some of us have our handmade shop, our blogs, our books that have been sitting on the shelf begging us to read them, our glue guns, our scrap fabric, our DVR full with last nights delights.  Those are all of our excuses.  We use them when we are in our happiest of places.  They are our excuses to the should haves.  Because your should have is going to be different from my should have.

I know what you are thinking.  We have been conditioned to make no excuses.  But sometimes excuses make us happy, and excuses are not regrets.  Remember that, hold that tight. 

Excuses are not regrets.  

Today for instance I needed to skip my morning workout.  My excuse, I needed to go across town to the fabric store, without kiddos, for some me time.  Then I went to another store and did some Christmas shopping, and then to Target.  Alone. That was my excuse, and I carved a little time out for me.  And there is no regret in my heart for not meeting Jillian at 6 am. Excuses don't have to be bad or negative.  Regrets are bad and negative.  Don't have regrets because you were too afraid to use an excuse.  Excuses can happily change your life. 

Because instead of doing more laundry I'm writing.  Currently my excuse is writing.

So excuse me while I do some more of it.