|True. Sad, but true.|
I thought not going to the barn would give me all kinds of time to do projects I'd been meaning to around the house. Nope. Not working out that way. Redecorate the basement family room? Nah. I walk into a Homegoods or a furniture store, look at all the options and go fetal. I would love to pay someone with taste to decorate for me, but really, any extra money I have is going toward a horse.
I meant to organize my closet. I didn't. It still looks like a FEMA site. Same thing with the Tupperware cabinet. I also thought maybe I'd work around the yard, spruce things up, maybe put some Fall decorations up. Hasn't happened. Yard still looks like crap, and there are no seasonal decorations to hide that fact.
My husband is the only one that's happy. He's excited that we are spending more "together" time. That pretty much means we are all going to the gym with him at night. I get on the elliptical and do weights, the kids go do their thing, and my husband gets on a bike for an hour. Together, my butt! Which, by the way, has not gotten any smaller, gym time notwithstanding. (I did start taking a belly dancing class again. I'm hoping that'll strengthen my core for when I get back in the saddle. Plus it's good for a laugh.)
My husband is also happy that I am home cooking dinner every night again. The man likes a good meal, and when we were riding he got home cooked meals only on weekends, and was left with leftovers or a crockpot creation the rest of the week. I used to love cooking before. Now? Not so much. Figuring out what to cook every night has become a chore. Tonight, in desperation, I did something with Ramen noodles that I haven't done since college. Don't ask. It wasn't pretty.
This Betty Crocker/June Cleaver thing ain't working out so well. It's getting to the point where I'm ready to strap on my helmet, hop on my bike and ride around the neighborhood making horse noises.