When I start to feel guilty about sleeping till 2pm, I remind myself, "I gave birth 4 times."
If I ever feel guilty that I've been off the grid for while- unemployed- I tell myself, "Oh, yeah, that's right. I grew 4 human beings inside of my body for a cumulative of 36 months- 3 YEARS OF MY LIFE."
At times when I feel bad that I've been letting Matt support me in this time, my inner-wisdom says to me, "Hey, Ashley, Sugar Pie... You got fat and got stretch marks carrying his children. He'll be juuuuuust fine."
Whenever I am bugged that I have to take Zoloft, I'm all, "Well, of course, I am taking Zoloft! I pushed 4 8-lb children out of my body! I pushed them out of me! Have I forgotten how small of an opening that is down there?! I'll be medicated for the trauma of that for years and years to come!"
Occasionally, when I decide to not fold laundry or clean the kitchen, I'm sure to think, "Besides the breaking of the femur bone, you know first-hand the greatest pain in the world: LABOR. CONTRACTIONS. Remember your epidural with Ada? Remember how it only worked on the left side of your body? Ashley, have another nap."
When my children complain because I maybe got an extra piece of cake, my internal guru teaches me to say to them, "I pushed you out of my vagina once. My body needs another piece of cake."