Thoughts of Change

Change is hard. While difficult to do anything involving conscious thought while beating your body to the ground in the 75 minute Circuit 2K/Cycle class at the gym, I began to wonder why I was going to miss this so much. I have been going to the gym somewhat regularly since I started to have children. All of the kids have gone to the pre-school at my gym (except the last Schnuckie who would be going next year) They have all spent time in the nursery while I have schlepped steps, spun the cycle, and heaved weights. I know most every employee, all the teachers, and many of the members. I always bring a book but rarely read it as I can't usually find a willing ear to bend as I work out. I realized that I really like my life and my schedule. I enjoy getting up, going to the gym, dropping one at pre-school and one at the nursery. I work out for an hour or so, shower, pick said children up, head home, eating lunch, then have quiet rest time. An hour or so later, up and clean up, play, await the school kids, then homework, activities, dinner, clean up, reading, and bed. Then its TV, reading or other endeavors. I am a creature of habit. I can eat the same breakfast, lunch and a rotating order of dinners, and be satisfied. I like my life, I like my gym time, and I like my routine.

Change is hard and while I look so forward to home schooling (read earlier post of idealized expectations ha ha) I get blue when thinking of the loss of my routine. I know I will have a new routine and we will work out a different schedule and hopefully I will enjoy it as much, but I am sad about moving on. It is like any other life change. While joyful, I also I mourned the birth of the last Schnuckie, as I knew I would never again be pregnant. Weaning him was hard as well as, after over 4 years between all of them, I knew never again nurse my child, and feel that special bond. As he grew, I mourned the last of the itty bitty teeny weeny babies (although my babies were never really teeny tiny, the first was 9lb11oz). Yes, I would hold others newborns, and maybe someday a couple of grandchildren, but my heart ached as I thought Never again. It is hard to move on and lose times you so enjoy. I often want to grab my kids and hold them stop them from growing so fast. I get desperate to think that there is nothing I can do (nor should do) to stop the march of time. The new joys they bring as they grow soothe my aches for the old losses. But loss it is and thus needs to be acknowledged. I am sad when I think I will not be in "my classes" next year, groaning and straining with all the women who have become my friends over the past 7 years. I will never peek into a pre-school class and see my littlest Schnuckie bend over a piece of paper, lost in deep personal thought over what he is doing. I will never see him sing at the Christmas show there at pre-school. Never will my girl go off in the school bus to Kindergarten, or have to do that "build a house" project. My boys won't be in chess club , or DI after school any more. I could go on and on.

Change is hard. Intellectually, I know I will move on well. But emotionally I am still working it out.