Motherhood is a tough job!
Possibly the toughest one out there and the only one I have officially had for the last 15 years. While I continue my role as chief care giver, executive chef, chauffeur, personal banker, referee, paramedic and mediator (to scratch the tip of the iceberg) without the benefits of sick leave, days off and an official salary, the rewards have come in waves of immeasurable love, pride and happy tears. The bonus, often delivered by way of hugs and cuddles for no particular reason at all.
With the support and unwavering good humour of my close knit sorority, bound by our similar job description (and a thirst for Chardonnay), I confess that I have managed to master some challenges with surprising ease. I have “winged” others and been blindsided by the additions to the ever-growing portfolio.
I am a mother of two teenagers. One very sporty, able and accomplished 15 year old daughter and an equally talented albeit less enthusiastic 13 year old son. My “sports mom” cap is well worn with immense pride. I cheer. I encourage. I support. I am unapologetically their number one fan and loudest cheerleader! I preach the importance of healthy eating, the need to exercise and motivate when they slack off.
Ironically, I don’t wake up scrambling for my sports bra and walking shoes so my well versed good advice is often met with rolling eyes and lack of conviction. It doesn’t bode well to tell my kids that I was once a dedicated fitness bunny, committed to self-care and optimum health. I cannot recall the occasion, reason or time my hiatus began. Like many, I literally fell off the fitness track, got busy with life … and busier making excuses. The thought of getting back out there is daunting to say the least. A visit to the gym or any other heart rate increasing activity fills me with dread and panic. Not least, social media has set the bar so high for body perfection that I find my lack of confidence and insecurities spiking. The internet is abundantly generous with advice and tips on getting fit and healthy. However most of it leaves me feeling overwhelmed, longing for the safety of my couch and comfort of my chocolate filled sin-bin. Bottom line is I felt that I needed to be fit to get fit.
Here’s the thing. In my ongoing determination to uphold truth to my children, I admit that, in this area, I have not established myself as a credible role model. A job requirement not realised to my full potential. I therefore resolved to motivate my two impressionable teens by actions and not words and lead by example. It was time to dust off my “sporty mom cap”. Most importantly I wanted my words and not my thighs to carry weight.
Getting back on the fitness wagon isn’t easy. Joining the CommanderHQ family has been an added inspiration to me. Being supported and encouraged by a group of dynamic and inspiring women is invigorating. However, I know it’s a work in progress and the road will be paved with Cadbury and temptation.
If like me you need to shake off the fitness cobwebs, be self-forgiving and patient. Find your personal inspiration. It’s a challenge yes, but also an equally rewarding journey of self-discovery and appreciation.
Happy Mother’s Day, Super Moms! I salute you all!
Sandy Wharton-Hood is a CommanderHQ stylist, brand developer and lifestyle contributor. A self-confessed “jack-of-all-trades”, she’s a wife and proud hands on Mom of two and is candidly open about the demands of life and motherhood and the challenges of being a positive role model to her children.