My sleep was so sound last night. The lights went out around ten, and suddenly the alarm was going off – not my inner-neurotic-mother-checkonbabywhatifshesdying alarm clock, either. When BJ gets up for work, I ordinarily follow so I can shower and do some reading. Today I stayed in bed. In fact I'm still lying here in bed under the sheets listening to the wind thrash around my backyard. Sipping Columbian roast & thinking about the pumpkin bread my sister gave me, just out of reach in the kitchen..so. far. away from my bed, though.
I'm allowing myself unproductivity today for two reasons – 1. It’s become apparent that I’m stressing myself out. I’ve been being a biatch, as a result. What is it about stress that makes us want to blame our stress on everyone else? I need to relearn how to chill, like I did when I was a working mom. I feel so pressured to have everything perfect now that I don’t have the excuse of a job, but I’m discovering that it’s still impossible to live up to the standards I set in my head for myself. 2. I will be cooped up in a house with a toddler all day, and I’d like to be present in that inevitable state of lunacy as short and simply as possible. It is...n't easy being inside.
This weekend was the first real snow storm. We took Zoe out in it Sunday afternoon. She was reluctant, but inquisitive. Eventually she grew quite taken with it. She calls the snow "NO!", her toddler rhetoric omitting the S for a mysterious but maybe significant reason?
We were hanging out under this tree and she was trying to eat the berries from my arms...hahaha