Comfort factor

Last year sometime, Hubs made a comment that went something along the lines of “you don’t like to be uncomfortable.” Of course I took offence to this, as I’m always happy to leave my comfort zone for new adventures. I was living in Mount Isa for goodness sake!

But that’s not what he meant. He was saying that I don’t seem to likeĀ being uncomfortable. Like if it’s too hot or too cold or I’m pregnant or I’m sick or I’m injured. And I had to admit, once I thought about it, and after a couple of months of noticing certain behaviours of mine, he was right. I liked my environment, which included my physical self, to be comfortable.

So I started stepping out and seeing what I could do to better adapt to uncomfortable situations. And this year, I’ve really stepped it up a notch. When it’s hot, I still go for a walk. It’s always going to be hot, and commenting on it (read: whinging) will not change that fact. I sweat almost immediately, and start puffing not long after that, but I’m doing something positive for my body, so it’s worth being temporarily uncomfortable.

That’s the other thing I’m having realisations over. Nothing is forever. Everything is temporary. This too shall pass. (Yeuch. Cliche time.) My mother-in-law reminded me of this months ago: No matter how bad of a day I’m having, there has never been a day that hasn’t ended. I seem to have been having a few of those lately. It’s a mixture of exhaustion from solo parenting, and challenging two and four-year-old behaviour. Even Hubs’ patience is being tested and that guy is a saint! So I know it’s not just me.

But I know it won’t last forever. This behaviour is a time of learning, and with the right direction and encouragement, the kids will continue to thrive. I just need to continue with my deep breathing, and let a few things through to the keeper. I don’t have to connect with every delivery.

So in keeping with this theme, it’s 30 degrees today, and I’m about to walk to and from Chanbe’s kindy for the third time today. The first time was at 8:30am for drop-off and by the time I got home (pushing our huge pram uphill all the way) I was dripping with sweat, but I felt good. Then I walked back at 10am for the Mothers Day morning tea that they hosted and home again, and now I’ll be heading back again for pick-up. It’s okay to be uncomfortable, and it’s feeling better and better every day.

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