“She has to do it with all the instinct that nature has put in her body. Sometimes she hits the target, sometimes she doesn’t. Nevertheless, a mother can’t even embody the character of William Tell, even if we can put ourselves in the shoes of Robin Hood: we deprive ourselves of different things in order to give others to our children. Here, the important thing is not to hit the target with the arrow. The important thing is how much love the arrow is charged “.
The tiredness of a (sporty) mother
The tiredness of the (sporty) mothers accumulates slowly. In years of gym to raise screaming babies, in years of desperate running because she always too late. In meals swallowed upright attached to the radiator, in endless discussions to put on a ski suit and in small daily problems.
Well, if many think that sporty moms have a little something extra because they are always active and organized, I tell you one thing: bullshit. Most are thin because they are lucky or perhaps too stressed. We do not manage to do everything either. And it is shown by my absence of almost two months from this blog and the fact that I take the stairs because at home I don’t have an elevator.
The tiredness of all mothers weakens you from within. We try to live, to take care of ourselves, to love, to nurture passions, interests, friendships. To keep ourselves healthy and fit, not to neglect our well-being. It is the tiredness of all. To which, however, is added the poignant burden of the children to grow and the sporting commitments of an amateur or competitive career.
The tiredness of the mothers, in a sense, never passes. Then we add the “brilliant” idea of doing sport too and wanting to compete. The sporty mother is indeed a scientific competitor: she studies how and how much to train, the diet, the strategies to gain more time … And punctually sends upstream a few days later all the plans made previously and dines with a piece of cake.
How to handle fatigue and sport
The sporting mother goes her own way. Often the husband lets her do it, because he often does not want to object. When the desire of the spouse’s sport goes over the limit, he merely thinks “she will grow up” – obviously I’m not talking about the mother. The daughter will grow to such an extent that she no longer will go on a trek in Greece under the midday sun and will emigrate to a remote university where she will not practice a more tiring sport than chess. And the mother’s dream will always be to see her daughter on Eurosport.
In fact, it is really complex to manage everything. I have the proof. But three years later with curses and a few moments of disappointment and hysteria I am beginning a little reappropriation of myself as a woman, not just as a mother. I can’t do everything. I can’t be sporty mom, mother, wife, woman, worker all together. Often some of my roles come to nothing to leave more space for others, but I have learned to accept myself and set priorities. Example: it is more important to help a friend than to go to the swimming course on Monday, it is more important to take my daughter to ski rather than go to the gym and so on … I will certainly be less fit, but thinking of doing good makes me a happy person.
And then, I don’t deny sometimes leaving my daughter an extra hour in kindergarten to go running. And we are all happy. What’s wrong?
And I realized that I am even better as a mother for Sofie. I have more energy (it is certainly due to magnesium) and I understand very well those who have always told me that it does not matter much, but the quality of the time you devote to your kids. And the quality of this time is so much better, I would add, if the parent tries to maintain a balance with the activities that have characterized it to date.
Therefore … let the sporty winter begin
(to the best of how we can make it)!