I slept for 5 hours last night. And it felt like 12. And my child is now, currently napping. Albeit, on my bed, wrapped up so tightly in her favorite blanket I go in and check on her every 5 minutes to make sure she's not suffocating from heat stroke, but she's sleeping. Not on my lap. For the first time in 10 days. Can I get an Amen. After you have had an adequate amount of rest, it's as if whole compartments of your brain are suddenly unlocked and you're free to roam in and out of them, where as before, you not only had no time to visit, but often, forgotten about their existence entirely. This morning, I rediscovered certain rooms in my brain, and though dusty and terribly underused, I was able to sit in each of them and get reacquainted.
Room #1: The Relationship Room
When you're covered in orange poop, you've neglected to brush your teeth nearly every morning this week, you've subsisted on greek yogurt and close to a pot of coffee every 4-6 hours, other relationships tend to take the back burner. Mainly because you're exhausted, though looking like the Corpse Bride may have something to do with it. Damn vanity. I was able to hang out in this room this morning and Skype my sis-in-law, write an e-mail to a dear friend, chat with my sister on her way to work, send a happy birthday text and ruminate on plans for dinner parties and get-togethers. I've missed this room.
Room #2: The Maintenance Room
This room has a gigantic mirror, which I have purposefully avoided. Reflections of both the inside and the outside of myself take the passenger seat to my kid's chubby legs in her little jeans- really, so cute. Sigh. It could not be avoided forever. When was the last time I had a hair cut? Scratch that. When was the last time I washed my hair? Geez. My last manicure has cracked and chipped in so many places, I can now play the, "What does this look like?" game. ("Hey Rich, doesn't this nail polish patch look like Africa?" "No. You do know what Africa looks like, right?") Fabulous. Not only do I need to schedule a manicure, but seems like my geography skills could use a little maintenance as well. I did buy a new pair of jeans, but I, alas, am still wearing an old maternity shirt. Which is ridiculous. I've lost over 50 lbs since the birth, I think it's time to let the XXXL go. I hate this room. But it exists, so I have to take care of it.
Room #3: The Passions Room
This is not what you're thinking. It's not that kinda blog. The Passions Room is where I shove all the stuff I love, but don't think I have time for. Books I'd love to read. Song ideas I want to flesh out. Kid's stories I want to write down on paper. Or a napkin. Or anywhere, before I forget. Organizing all the hundreds of thousands of Ellie pictures on our Flickr account. Mapping out actual, feasible plans for travel. Over seas. With a baby. Gulp. Actually getting into the kitchen and making that recipe for a Persian Rose Cake that I've been dreaming of for about a year now. It looks beautiful. What's good and bad about this room is that it's always cluttered, so there's always something to choose from...it's just difficult to settle on one thing at a time.
Room #4: The Room of the Future
We can't plan our future. This much I've learned. But it is good to have goals, ideas, aspirations other than not having for ice cream sprinkled with chocolate chips for lunch. Again. I tentative enter this room, asking God to remind me that I'm not in charge of these things, but that I deal wisely with what I've been given.
Alright, time's up. No more visiting. The ever present room that is demanding my attention is the one I spend most of my time in at the moment. Mommy Room, here I come.