Rolling with the Punches

The Husband has a new work schedule. Related? I am majorly confuzzled about my workout schedule.

I've talked a lot about how I find my happy place when I put myself second. And for the past three months, I have been doing pretty spiffy. The Husband was on days and was gone by 6 am. I was up by 8 with Buttercup and three days a week had her off to school by no later than 11:30 a.m. and as soon as I got home? It was instant Ohm time, kettlebell time, or zumba time. I would usually have just enough time to shower and go pick her up before returning home to figure out dinner, which would (usually) be ready when The Husband got home from work.

Quaint. I know.

There was some family chit-chat, How was your day, Honeys, and Smooch Smooch as we finished up dinner. Then I went one way to bathe Buttercup and tuck her into bed while he went the other to tuck himself in start the whole process over again.

By 9 p.m., both Buttercup and The Husband were counting sheep. Which meant I would start chanting the adult-mama-writer version of party, party, party! and promptly sit my happy ass down on the couch with my netbook and categorize music on iTunes while working on writing projects and blogging.

Twitter? What's that? Never touch the stuff.

Sometime between midnight and 1 a.m., I was off to dreamland myself. Or at least tweeting that I should be. Shut up.

The bottom line is that in the last three months, I figured it all out. There was a time and a place for everything. I knew when to work out. I knew when to play house. And I knew when to follow my dreams.

Hello book deal!

Then, of course, everything changed.

I knew it was coming. How could I not? His schedule rotates every few months. So I can't act like I had no idea. He even warned reminded me a few weeks back that the shift change was coming!

Now? It's all kinds of jacked up. He wakes up at 10. I've been up since 8. He shuffles downstairs to eat as I am getting Buttercup ready for school. I return home to find him sprawled on the living room couch in front of the TV I usually use to work out.

So instead? I make our lunch and pack his cooler for dinner and Hug, Hug, Kiss, Kiss, Have a good Day at Work, Honey. And then suddenly it's time to pick up Buttercup from school. I might be able to talk her into a fun Zumba or kettlebell routine but honestly, it depends on what kind of  day she had at school. So maybe I work out. Or maybe I pretend to be Super Mommy who just got turned into an apple by the evil Dr. No-No until bath, book, and bed time. It's kind of a crap-shoot.

I'll be honest...I really don't want to start sweating at 9 p.m. 'Cuz then I have to shower and wash my hair and really, by the time I'm done with all of that, I may as well just get into bed. Besides, my brain is already primed to use that time for ahem, creative expression.

He's only been on his new shift for a few days and I'm going to figure that the me not working out for the last few days isn't entirely unrelated.

Don't worry. I'll figure it out. I'll get myself on a brand new schedule. It'll be fine.

Just until the next schedule change, that is.

***This post originally appeared on Bookieboo.