It's a Good Day

It's been a good day. Twinkle slept all night, so that helped I'm sure.

I met with a trainer at the gym today for my "complimentary" session for joining the gym. Even though I went in to it knowing the purpose was for them to try to convince me to sign up for a trainer, I signed up for a trainer. I'm excited. I'm paying this money and I'm determined to stick to it. I'll start out meeting 2 times a week and probably eventually change to once a week. We'll see.

I'm ready to try this. It's not like I'm trying some quick scheme and putting my faith in a pill or something. I mean, if I do it regularly, I can only get healthier, right?

Brain, Brain, What is Brain?

I'm not actually a Star Trek geek, I'm married to one. Maybe that makes me one by default. He's not a "dress up like Spock and go to conventions" geek, but he can pretty much say the lines in all of the shows along with the actors.

But I digress...

Today, tonight especially, the swizzle stick is a-swirling. I was talking to a woman today whose daugther is in a drama class with Twinkle. I was telling her about having a jewelry show this coming weekend and a few other things, and she said that she remembered me mentioning that a couple of weeks ago. How do people remember things like that? I forget what I'm saying in the middle of a sentence! I couldn't tell you how many times this week alone I've just stopped to try to think of a word like "newsflash" or forgotten why I'm telling someone whatever it is that's coming out of my mouth. I couldn't tell you because I can't remember.

Jeezy, creezy, It's so frustrating. I wish I could look inside my brain and see what synapses are napping. I wish I could figure out what exactly I need to do to get everything firing. More sleep? Better de-stressing ability? More protein? More chocolate? More? Less? Prayer? Mediation? Medication? Yoga? 10 minutes of screaming every day? Silence?

My family deserves better. I deserve better.

Sleep? I don't need no stinking sleep!

OK, that makes it sound worse than it is. Twinkle woke up again last night. Again at 2:30. This time she did not come into our room and want to sleep in our bed. This time she just sat in the doorway to her room and cried until I woke up.

She didn't say she'd had a bad dream. She only said that she didn't want to be in her room by herself. She had gotten up and restarted the John Lennon disc in her CD player, so I guess she gave it a try before the howling started.

I put her back into her bed and sat down beside her while she drifted off. At least I thought she'd drifted off. When I got up to leave and opened her squeaky door (note to self, go get the WD-40) she woke up. Luckily, I told her to go back to sleep and she said OK. Even luckier, she didn't wake up again the rest of the night AND I managed to go back to sleep pretty quickly.

No one told me that at 5 1/2, I'd be getting up for 2:30 "feedings" again like when she was a baby. And truthfully, those didn't last very long. She started sleeping through the night when she was about 2 months. At that time, her pediatrician told me that until Twinkle weighed 10 lbs, I needed to wake her up and feed her in the middle of the night. Uh, yeah right. I think the technical term for that is "Crazy".

So, growth spurt? School stress? What is this phase that she seems to go through every few months where she wakes up in the middle of the night? I know it will end, but I'd rather it be sooner than later.

Another Day

It's a good day... Sort of.

I did go to the gym today, and it did help me feel more together. However, Twinkle decided at 2:30 am that she wanted to sleep in our bed. This usually results in my not sleeping, so I typically try to discourage it. Hubby meanwhile snores away.

So, Twinkle comes in, wakes me up (will she ever learn?) and says she wants to sleep with me. I say no, she has to sleep in her bed. Begging and pleading follow, I say no, but honestly, I don't want to force the issue by picking her up and physically taking her back to her bed. So, Twinkle crawls into my bed. I do my best to keep my space and go back to sleep. About 45 minutes later, neither of us has slept and she decides maybe she'll go back to her own bed. Hurray.

3:40 am - From across the house "mom? Mo-om? Moooooooom? MOM!" Rumble rumble, not that I've actually fallen asleep in the 15 minutes she's been gone. I go to her room where she tells me she can't sleep. I did have some sympathy for her because I know what it's like to not be able to sleep! I turn on some music for her and go back to bed.

3:50 am - What is that sound? That sound isn't right. That's just off. What is it? It's Twinkle crying. I go to her room. T: "I had a bad dream"; Me: "No you didn't. You haven't slept in 1 1/2 hours."; T: "I want you to sleep with me because I'm crying"; Me: "Why are you crying?"; T: "I don't know"; Me: "Then stop it". I put two books into her bed (which were on the floor beside her bed and she could have easily gotten) and tell her not to get me out of bed again. Then I return to bed.

I think I fell asleep around 4:30. What did it was deciding that I should at least lie there and relax even if I couldn't sleep. Go figure.

So today I'm a wee bit cranky. I like sleep. Sleep is a very important part of my night. I can't help but be a little snippy when I'm awakened and it isn't for an actual bad dream or something equally major. I didn't rant and yell, but I feel like I should have been nicer. Hubby would probably say that I was nice - y'know, if he had been awake. He knows how I don't like my sleep interrupted. When will the girl learn that?

What Color is Your Swizzle Stick?

Do you ever feel like someone has put a swizzle stick into the top of your head and just stirred things around a little?

Sometimes I just have trouble thinking straight, or remembering things, or getting my brain around all the things that I have to do. When my brain feels this way, it puts me near tears. I really used to be an organized, thinking person. Where is that person now?

For one thing, I think I need more rest. That seems like an easy answer, and certainly seems easier than, say, more exercise. But a couple of weeks ago, I actually went to bed at 8:30! I felt great the next day. I can't remember being in such a good mood.

Another thing that helps sometimes is taking the time to make lists. It's as if by writing something down, I'm giving myself permission to not keep it in my brain. Then there isn't as much swirling around to be disturbed by the swizzle stick. What concerns me at times is that sometimes the lists have to be very detailed, but that's really just when there's just so much going on or involved in a particular task.

Also, I know that exercise does indeed help. After being told that by my doctor, and Oprah, and every other media outlet, I can finally say that they are correct. I've started going to the gym regularly for the past few weeks (I know, not long term yet) and I have noticed a difference in my attitude on the days that I go.

And yet, despite knowing all of those things, the top of my head feels like it has a swizzle stick in it today.

Who Are These People?

...And why are they in my house?!

I decided to start this blog, because sometimes I just need to talk. There may be no one listening, but at least the "not listening" isn't "to my face".

I just go through phases of feeling up or down or sideways, and I need to get it out.

Let me start by saying that I love my family. I have a husband of almost 18 years and a 5 year old daughter I'll call Twinkle. We are in the process of adding another child to our family through international adoption. I have another blog chronicling that odyssey, but I'd like to keep that separate from this.

We are ending 9 days of Twinkle being home from school, and hubby being off work and I'm ready for them to go back.

You'll never believe what hubby had the audacity to do...laundry!! How dare he?! Now, how is this something that I could possibly be annoyed about? He's been doing it for the past few days - that's how much was piled up - and I guess I'm not annoyed now. But I was - how is that possible? He didn't "do it right"...separating reds from blues from browns; dumping the clean clothes in the bedroom floor to be put away later...oh the humanity. I guess I just felt like he was coming into my domain and taking over because I wasn't doing a good job at it. Sure, there was a lot of dirty laundry waiting to be done. Sure, that could lead many to believe that I wasn't doing a good job of keeping up with it. I might even admit that I'd been lazy and had not done laundry the way it ought to be done. Why is my first response to get annoyed that he was helping me out? Why not just take the help?

Whenever something like this happens, I always swear to myself that I'll try to do a better job so that laundry, for example, doesn't pile up like this again. But then life comes along.