I’ve been feeling like a slug lately. I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep from my child waking me up during the night, or the heat from the sunshine, which has been appearing a lot lately, but I feel worn out, spent.

My husband tells me to sleep when my baby sleeps, which begs the question- when do I get to do what I want to do? Only when she is unconscious can I go back to doing what I was doing when I was single… sort of. So I’m writing this blog while my daughter is asleep. I can feel the fatigue weighing in. I’m going to have to keep it short so I can nap and be ready for second shift.

I barely made it to Bodyflow today, which, if you don’t know, is an exercise routine that combines yoga, tai chi, and pilates. I was twenty minutes late for an hour class. My antelope is good for about an hour in the morning, then the fussiness begins. I can get a few minutes for myself to get ready by putting her in a bouncer, or a few minutes by putting her in her table chair for breakfast, but after that, it’s waaa, waaa, waaa until I pick her up.

I hate putting her down and letting her cry. That’s why it takes so long in the morning for me to get ready. I occupy her until she doesn’t cry, mostly, and then I take a shower and get dressed. Getting ready means putting her on my bed while I dress. She doesn’t want to be away from me.

Why not get ready during the hour that she’s good, you may ask. Because that’s when I catch up on my zzzzzzzs. My husband is with her in the morning while she’s good and he gets ready for work. Then it’s showtime for me again.

On the positive side, she did take to the “kid’s club” (aka daycare) at the gym today when I dropped her off. But when I came back 45 minutes later, she was wailing in the bouncy seat. As soon as I picked her up, she stopped crying. I love her so much. Does she feel my love coming through? Is that why she stopped? Am I being melodramatic?

I felt so out of shape at Bodyflow, even though I’ve been jogging 2 miles weekly, that I did not “master” the moves the way I have in the past. I did not get upset at myself. I did the moves the way I could, and was one with my ego.

The fact that I couldn’t do the moves didn’t matter. What mattered was participating in the class. What a liberation. I love my instructor, Linda. She has a calm and gentle quality. Some fitness instructors work you mercilessly, or encourage the competitive complex, but not with Linda. I get a good work out, physically and spiritually.

My legs feel light under me, and I’m lying on my back. My eyelids feel like ski slopes. I need to go. Good night. Ehm, good day.

Originally written June 18, 2013.