I went to see my new councilor for postpartum depression. Getting therapy is hard, I’d much rather pretend I don’t feel all the things. And honestly, I’ve been feeling good these days. Exercise and Zoloft FTW!
But she pointed out it’s the first anniversary of my dads death, my favorite brother just came out of the closet and is a totally different person than he was three years ago, I didn’t get the VBAC I wanted, etc etc etc. I was all “ohhhhhhh, yeah, I guess that is a lot to deal with.” Duh. Outside perspective worth the $15 copay, for reals.
The run with my neighbor went fine. She’s a nice gal. We’re both stay at home moms… I thought MY college degree wasn’t doing me any good, her THREE degrees aren’t doing her much good! She has a doctorate in catholic something or other from Catholic University in D.C. Anyway, she’s worried about gestational diabetes so she wants to run. Which is fine by me so long as I can still run by myself. I’m an introvert, dag-nabit!
Also, she lacks a certain… Well, we’ll never be bosom buddies, lets say that. She lacks the moxie I require in all my best chums. Fine by me, I have plenty of good chums already.
My newish neighbor gal just asked if she could run with me tomorrow morning.
I said yes.
WHAT WAS I THINKING?!
At least she is five months preggo- she’ll be slow too.
GPOYW: naps for all!!! edition
I squeezed into my size 16’s today. Progress! (They’ll be unwearable in a few months so I should get as much use out of them as possible.) Strange how all my size 16 shorts fit but the pants didn’t until now.
“See mom? How can we be driving you nuts when we’re so cute?”
GPOYW: I am now, and always will be, a morning exerciser. However, after a long two days with my kids, sweating out my stress for an hour in the evening could make me a believer in a night time workout.
Behold! New running shoes! They look like strawberries. With all the cute purple shoes out there right now, these WOULD be the only ones that work for me and are in size 11.5!
