So the kid started real preschool today. We’ve been preparing for it. She’s been grumpy about it for the past few days, and today she woke me up to tell me she was scared. She was scared to go to school, she was scared to make new friends. She didn’t want to go.
And I told her that I knew she was scared, and it was alright to be scared and totally normal, but she was going to have to go anyway.
But here’s the thing…
Last night I posted in a Facebook group talking about how hard it is to get to the gym. Friday morning I’ve got a post going up on the Losing It blog about how hard it is to start over again.
The reason I’m not going to the gym is that I’m scared. I’m terrified of how hard it’s going to be again, and that I’m going to fail again – even though I was doing really well before I paused my gym membership because of our vacations.
I’m scared of trying to find time in all the other stuff I’m doing to take care of myself. I’m extraordinarily bad at taking care of myself.
Here I am telling my kid one thing and I need to hear it myself. It is scary, it will be hard, but then it will get easier and I will be better for the effort.