If I tell you -- I have to do it. Right?

Lately, I've been feeling a bit off. Crabby, mean, and just utterly horrid. It's one of the main reasons why I haven't been posting. You know, the whole "If you can't say something nice" saying runs around in my head. Combine the inability to say anything nice about anything and a blog and you end up sounding like some whiny snively spoiled brat. Especially considering that I am positively spoiled beyond belief and have no reason to complain about much of anything.

It isn't anyone else's fault that I've felt this way. It's my own. I get up in the morning, pick up the dirty laundry and throw it in a pile by the laundry room. If I'm lucky I get to wake up the children (rather than the other way around), and get them ready for the day. I send one off to preschool three days a week, two of those three mornings I fill with bible studies (although both have been TERRIBLY neglected lately). Friday mornings are all about me. Or they used to be. But then I decided I should really clean the house on Friday mornings instead. And go to the grocery store so we have food for the weekend.

The afternoons are spent finding activities to keep my busy busy three year old involved in something so that I don't try to strangle him because he seems to be doing everything in his power to wake his little sister up. My evenings are spent, preparing (or more likely driving somewhere and purchasing) dinner, cleaning up from the day, getting kids into bed, arguing with small children about why they need baths and sleep, and finally, FINALLY! quiet time with my husband.

Except that my husband is obese. (well, not really. Not at all, but the military seems to think so.) So he's on the fat boy program and spends his evenings working out in order to keep his job and prove that to be as skinny as they want him he might just wither up and die. So, we watch TV while he works out. And I listen to my one year old, who is in the process of weaning whine and cry 15 minutes at a time while I try to get her to sleep with as little time attached to me as possible.

By the time I actually get to relax, I'm so wired that it takes me hours to wind down. Maybe I should invest in some good wine? And since I'm so "starved" for "me time" I end up staying up far too late watching crap on TV. And then I go to bed. And stare at the ceiling, thinking about all of the things that we have going on. We are selling our house. We are moving in a few months. But where? And for how long? Are we going to end up overseas? Why is Little Monster SOO naughty and defiant these days? By about 3:00 AM I'm finally in good sleep. I get a couple of hours, if I'm lucky before my husband has to get up to workout before work. He tries so hard to be quiet, and he really is. I just sense the stirring and though I try to remain asleep, sometimes I lay there, awake, but not really. Then, Little Monster comes tearing in at 5:30AM demanding breakfast. Pop Tarts. And toast with white butter. Not Peanut BUTTER! WHITE BUTTER! and WHITE MILK! And PLEAAASE! I need breakfast NOW! After arguing with him until 7 o'clock, I finally get up and feed him breakfast.

And now you may return to the beginning. Typical day. Typical week. Sounds like life. And a housewife who is doing a lot of whining, right?

I'm hoping to change it. I'm going to try to QUIT neglecting my bible studies. Because when I neglect them, I cut myself off from God, and when I do that, things don't go well. I lose faith that someone has control of things. It's something I need to believe in order to exist. This world is so crazy -- and I have no control over anything, so as long as someone has control, and someone has a plan I'm fine. I'm happy to know that the Someone I believe is in control of things is a loving, kind Someone who has my best interest at heart.

I am also going to try to start working out. This says the lady who HATES to exercise. It's boring. I hate sweating. Add the two up, and yeah. If I am going to exercise you have to trick me into it -- make me think it's fun. Or, keep my mind off of the exercise by putting something else in front of it. TV doesn't work. It can't keep my interest (except for last night's episode of Grey's Anatomy -- can you say it! AHHH!).

How then, am I going to get my workout in? Easy. I am going to be super selfish. I am going to -- read books for pleasure while I ride the exercise bike. I recently bought a Nook. One of those e-reader gadgets that Barnes&Noble is selling. It's amazing. I can set it on the front of the bike and just read. No worries about losing a page. No having to hold the book open, no having to hold the book. If the text is to small for me to read while I'm bouncing all over on the bike, no biggie. I'll just make the text bigger. And while I'm reading, I'm pedaling. And pedaling. For an hour or every other day. Or when I want to read. It's amazing.

I started this yesterday. I pedaled for a total of an hour -- two thirty minute sessions. All the while reading the newest fiction, that I bought. From my house. And you know what? That being selfish and demanding that my three year old play quietly in his room -- and that my one year old nap quietly in hers while I read a good book. It felt heavenly. I got to do something totally selfish. And I felt better afterward. And I burned calories. So maybe my clothes will fit better. And maybe I'll start to be happier and quit complaining about the fairy tale life that I lead.

I'm counting on you to keep me accountable. Got it? What do you do that keeps you from going insane?