Body Talk

My body doesn't usually draw attention to itself. It usually likes the idea that it can actually camouflage me by, ironically, being overweight. It's like a natural defense mechanism brought on by lack of formal exercise and failing to cook every night from home so that crap food runs are made every now and again, which would be okay if every time I ate out, I didn't think of it as a reward system. But I don't feel like blogging about my emotional dependence on frozen custard, pasta and Pirate Booty right now...

Instead I want to talk about the breakdown... the fact that after spending a harrowing 2 months as a working single mother while MacTroll saved the technical world from peril, my body has heaved around a squirrelly, fighting 35 lb toddler who is as stubborn as his mother (and has a right hook slap that brings us both to tears as we struggle to do something as mundane as put shoes on in the morning). Usually I just ignore the aches and pains and continue with my overwhelmingly over-planned days. But woo doggie is my body talking this week... it's been fighting me to go to sleep every chance I get. Kind of like that first trimester of pregnancy where you find yourself never getting out of bed or showering or even caring about food. 

Today MacTroll took X-man to school. So after they were out the door at 8:30 a.m. I came upstairs and put my head down. The next thing I know the phone is ringing and it's MacTroll. I bark, "What are you doing? The point of sleeping in is not to be interrupted."

There's silence at the other end. "It's noon."

"Holy shit."

I got up, had left over tacos for lunch stepped outside to see if I could bring myself to mow the backyard. Too cold. Too wet. Too -- unmotivated. So I headed back up to bed, where I planned some meet ups, am writing this blog entry and am seriously thinking about napping before we celebrate Miss Thang's 3rd b-day over at FCC this afternoon.