A Mommy Runs Through It

Since no one has agreed to pay me to be Milk Lady to Ellie and Dora-Turner-Onner for Keira, I'm returning to teach kindergarten part-time starting next week. Half of me is kind of looking forward to getting out of the house sans diaper bag, infant seat, potty ring, Blankie, and nursing-appropriate clothing, and being around other adults on a regular basis. I love my teaching partners, and right before I went on maternity leave with Ellie, I was really starting to feel like I had the hang of kindergarten; plus, working 2-3 days a week and having every 4th month off isn't really something to sneeze at (whatever that means). Being away from the girls gives me a chance to miss them, and strangely enough, I come home with more energy to play with them than on the days I'm home all day.

I'm trying to let that optimistic half of me take over, and telling the "I'm going to miss the girls/I hope everything is OK at home while I'm gone/Pumping at work is going to be a drag/How am I going to wake up at 5:30am after getting up with Ellie 4 times a night?" side of me to pipe down. Besides, we've spent money like our last name was Trump this summer, so getting a paycheck again will definitely be a good thing!

One of the ways I'm trying to stay mellow and get some "me" time in is by getting back into running. Before I got pregnant with Keira, I was running with my mom regularly, and had gotten up to around 5 miles at a time...but as soon as I saw two lines on that pregnancy test, my legs started to feel like concrete blocks, and every step felt like I might as well be trying to scale the Sears tower with Vaseline on my feet. Then came the Sleepless Months when Keira was a baby, during which I was lucky to find the energy to brush my teeth most days. These were followed by the Glorious Sleepathon Months, which lasted approximately from the time she turned one until Ellie was born--I just couldn't bring myself to get up early in the morning when I could finally sleep in.

Now that sleep is scarce again, and I'm up most nights at 11pm, 2 or 3 am, 5 or 6am, and 8am for the day, nothing short of the smell of sauerkraut, or a volcanic eruption under our bed, could get me out any earlier than I absolutely have to. So, I stopped even bothering to try talking myself into early-morning exercise, and have opted instead to make myself go in the evenings after Ellie's in bed at 7pm. It's lovely, actually: the weather has cooled, it's still light out, Bear and Keira are busy doing bathtime, and I get to blast obnoxious music on my iPod and run out all the stress from the day. Here's hoping this will result in getting rid of these last 10 pounds of baby weight sometime soon, but even if it doesn't, it feels good to be back on track again.