I grab my lower back with my right hand and get leverage from the bed with my left and hoist myself to a painful upright position as I waddle to the bathroom. No. I'm not pregnant. Just "off."
Now I have to turn the light on.
Aaargh!
Too bright! So I bumble about the bathroom to brush my teeth and kind of comb my hair back into position as I squint my eyes trying to shield my tender pupils from the sting of the bathroom lights.
I brush my furry teeth, put on my deodorant and sort of comb my hair back into the sidled pony tail at the back of my head and then I take my position on the toilet... I have to try not to fall back to sleep as I... well, you know.
By this time I am able to open my eyes enough to wipe the remnants of mascara rubbed under my eyes.
Then I turn off the light so as not to wake Marc 5 minutes earlier than his alarm will go off and feel my way through the room because now my eyes cannot focus in the dark.
I have stuff on the floor at the foot of my bed—a box full of toys and books that I pilfered from Sister's disastrous room to give away, a small pile of clothes I like that I am forcing myself to get rid of just because I should, and a random step stool that, for some unknown reason, keeps ending up there. I have the location of these items memorized (they've been there a week or two) and can navigate through the dark until I get to the bedroom door. I'm too tired apparently to remember all of my navigating skills and stub my toe on our wooden laundry hamper near the door and almost curse out loud as I fling my head back in pain and graze the side of the doorway with my forehead.
I am thinking at this point that to bed at 2 and up at 5:30 no longer fly for this 36-year-old.
I put on my shoes, my sweatshirt, mumble to Marc from the stairway "I am leaving" and open the door to a very brisk and dark morning.
I get in my car carefully because my back is still not awake.
I drive only a half a block and carefully get out of my car and walk quickly up the walk to my friends house for our weekly morning yoga.
It's not that cool yoga that all those fit and fine mommy bloggers talk about to the point of making the rest of us hardworking mothers feel like fat slobs. Nope. It's just easy going "fix your back" kind of yoga. Ya, I have a friend that suffers back pain like I do, it's amazing what can bring to people together.
We don't do any of the calming techniques that are suggested in the 35 minute long routine, but we get all kinds of giggles, stories, histories and just good old girl talk all in during that time. It's therapeutic both mind and body.
We say our goodbyes and I rush home before Marc leaves to work. Sometimes it's just me and him who are up, often Sister is up with us (or earlier) but this morning when I walked in the door I heard Baby's giggle coming from Sister's room. I gave a quick "hello" to Marc and then walked into Sister's room to find both our daughters giggling and snuggling in Sister's bed.
It was such a sweet site.
Both of them just happy to be alive and awake.
No sensory needs have hit them yet.
They're fresh.
So there's no pulling hair, biting, or squeezing. Just little girl laughter.
I can't resist, though. It's me who needs the sensory this time. I plop at the side of the bed, lean over and squeeze both of them together and kiss their warm cheeks and let their little hands wrap around my head to bring me in for tighter hugs and more kisses.
So, 5 hours later I am still at home.
Marc is at home.
The kids are at school.
I've been working so vigorously that I haven't even taken the time to shower, get dressed and ready yet and it's now a quarter to noon. I've had no time to think...
Until now.
I just needed time for me.
So I wanted to write down the memorable moments of my day so far.
I really do have to realize, that though my life is simple and stressful at the same time, I am blessed each and every day to live it...
Being me.
Just me.
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