The Good, The Bad, & The Power Puke
So things are good. I mean surprisingly good in this "the other shoe is going to drop" kind of way. And so it did. It dropped. I got power vomited on last night in that way that is so disorienting you literally have to say to your partner, "I don't know what to do next" because you've got a river of puke you're holding in your kid's blanket and your bra and you honestly can't decide the best way of getting it off you save flinging everything, kid included, in the tub. But that's not really the story. The story is that the other shoe dropped and sh*t is still okay. I mean, I'm tired af and I don't want any ramen noodles covered in curdled milk for a while (I have to hand it to Aya, she almost got me this time - the vomit was so hot and so milk curdlely that I almost tossed my own cookies and it probably was cookies cause I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night). The point is, I'm having less difficulty lately. Maybe not forever, maybe not even until this evening, but it's a pretty big shift for me and I would like to attribute it to the following factors. Ah hem.
Working Out. So, I reluctantly scraped myself off the couch (that is, when I actually get to sit) and away from my poutine gorging long enough to ask my trainer - yes, I call her "my" trainer even though we only worked out together three times at the gym I joined for a three month membership only to promptly quit after three or four sessions because well, it's a gym, need I say more? That's rhetorical and I am going to say more: Gyms are terrible even the nice ones. Upon re-realizing this truth, I asked my trainer (I really can't get enough of that) to do an outdoor bootcamp that I mentioned in a previous post and SHE SAID YES!!! Basically, it's the most fun you can have working out because you are with other people who laugh at your incessant whining like it's cute instead of terribly annoying. I like to think of myself, in anygiven situation, as the chorus in Shakespearian plays, and so I try to say what everyone is thinking such as, "Does anyone else smell barbecued steak right now? Doesn't it smell good? I'm hungry. We should really eat something" and similar things while we are squatting and doing flying lunges and other things that my trainer (there it is again) comes up with because she's fun and creative and also, MINE.
Writing a Blog. I can't overstate the catharsis of this blog. At first it was like this primal need just to spew my experience out because I couldn't hold it inside any longer but as I told people about it and they read it they invariably mentioned that it must be so cathartic. And I was like, yeah, sure. But the thing is, IT TOTALLY IS. Catharsis is really a thing and I guess I needed it bad. This morning I was trying to figure out why it needed to be a public catharsis, but I didn't want to think about it too hard because I've already got tons to talk about in counselling.
My Kid is Getting Older. You know how when your baby is six weeks and then six months and then finally a year and you think you might survive the fact that they are now on the planet and it is totally your fault and you start to think less about fleeing to Jamaica and changing your identity? Maybe that was only me. Anyhoo, when Aya turned two, there was a bit of a shift for me, like, Well, she keeps getting older, this might actually continue to happen and I might get a full fledged child that feeds herself and wipes her own ass and has conversations with me outta this yet! In any case, I continue to live in hope.
Well, I gotta go cause my kid is crying non stop and it might be a long night. Check back in with my in the morning, but here's hoping that things stay good.
You know this post is going to be followed up by a post whining about my Mother's Day.
You just know it.