My pedometer made me a better mother.
my feet. circa 2006.
To know me is to know Im an *early* adopter (we had a DVR when most still used VHS tapes) or the l-a-s-t to the soiree (I jumped on the Crocs bandwagon LONG after said wagon had been abandoned).
To know me is to also be aware Im opinionated. To the point of resembling a
Tornado petulant child.
Once I get into my head I dislike something (hello mayonnaise!) I never really give it a chance.
Back in the 90s when everyone was tracking/counting—I decided I hated pedometers.
This disdain had nothing to do with the fact I exercise intuitively (I didnt then) & everything to do making a snap decision.
I encouraged others to wear pedometers, rock heart rate monitors and embrace gadgets—but they weren’t for me.
Until they were.
Recently my back started hurting.
Id become the most sedentary healthy living writer I knew.
It was time for a change, I was desperate for a change, I decided a pedometer might be that change.
It took me one day to learn I walked as much as a bed ridden person.
I exercise consistently—but after 30 minutes it’s workwritingworkwritingSITTING for much of my day.
the life of an UpAtCrack working misfit.
I’d get stuck here for hours & hours
We’ve gots a canine–but right now he’s
hell on a leash not super walk friendly.
I realized if left to my own work-housework-grocery-work-childtime-work-bed devices Id plateau at 3 thousand steps EARLY in the day & not add much from there.
I committed to stepping it up (pun intended) and, to my surprise, more steps made me a better mother in the process.
- My pedometer increased my patience. To mother (canine or otherwise) is to spend lots of time cleaning, straightening, retrieving, and organizing. Even with my foray into the Orange Rhino I wasnt exceedingly patient when the Tornado would say, as we were leaving the house, OH MAMA I FORGOT XXX. WILL YOU GO GET IT FOR ME? until the pedometer. I no longer heard demands of a disorganized child—I heard her saying HERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SQUEEZE IN STEPS!!
(imagine image here of me happily skipping inside domicile to retrieve fleece jacket)
My pedometer was an opportunity to PRACTICE NOT PREACH. My approach to
parentinglife is to practice what I preach & say not a word. Before my pedometer it hadnt occurred to me a step-count display would be a sign to the Tornado we *both* needed to move! On days she’d see my count was low she’d take the initiative to suggest we go play. You dont need to be a mom to know ANYTHING which promotes healthy living *and* spares us nagging is win-win.
when did her fingers get so BIG?!
- My pedometer was a FLASHING reminder of self-care. I take care of myself first. I get up *early* to do so—but Ive learned if I dont place my oxygen mask on first I cannot ‘do unto’ others for the rest of my day. It quickly became apparent on days I ONLY did unto others my step count was miniscule. This is inevitable some days—this is NOT fine as consistent practice.
SELF-CARE= a relaxing amble around the lake
So there’s my confession: a gadget Id hated without meeting is now a helpful tool in my belt with regards to being a kinder, gentler, misfit-Mama.
- Are you an AVOWED pedometer junkie?
- What lessons have you learned from increasing your steps?
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