Thursday, December 8, 2011

Back in the Game

I noticed something this week. I was walking down the hall at school when I realized I had a spring in my step that hasn't been there for 16 months (well...maybe more like 18 months. It's hard to have a spring in your step in the last two months of pregnancy ;). It could be that I'm consistently getting 7-8 uninterupted hours of sleep most nights. It could be that my struggles with my thyroid disease finally seem to be under control. It most likely has a lot to do with my new school - a breath of fresh air when I was suffocating. And yes, it could have something to do with the fact that I just found $50 that was given to me for Christmas last year and heck yeah I spent it all on myself. At Sephora. And it dawned on me: I'm back in the game. Personally. Professionally. In life in general.

The months following Sweetie Pea's arrival had the unique designation of being both the happiest and the hardest months of my life. Here I had this beautiful little baby, whom I loved so much I couldn't even articulate it, and all my feelings for him would often come out my eyeballs as I sat and nursed him. He makes me happier than I have ever been in my life, ever. But, as you know, he didn't sleep for beans. And a couple of months post-partum my thryoid disorder, which had gone into remission while I was pregnant, came back to haunt me full-force, right about the time that I returned to work to face a very challenging workplace dynamic. Ever since, I've felt like I've been living in this fog of self-preservation.

Wake up. Swipe some concealer under my tired eyes. Get baby and self out the door. Arrive at work. Go through the motions of pretending I'm a well-rested, together person. Meetings. Pumping breaks. General work drama. Pick up baby. Pray baby will be entertained by his exersaucer long enough to make something (anything) for dinner. Fall into bed. Hope to get 2 consecutive hours of sleep. Crap. Thyroid disease is making me an insomniac. OMG, is that the alarm clock already? Must keep it together. Must keep it together. Must keep it together.

I've been a shadow of my former fashionable, put-together, confident self. The one who wore pink crocodile pumps and had time to curl her hair in the morning. I've missed that girl. But this week I caught a glimpse of her again. She's different now - much more likely to wear flats than pumps, her pencil skirts are collecting dust in the closet, and she'd rather shop for her kid than herself - but her confidence comes from the fact that she manages to do it all, and do a reasonably good job of it. Even if she does rock a ponytail 6 out of 7 days a week. But ponytail or not, I'm finally feeling like me again after so many months of sleepless nights and nursing and spit-up and tears (Sweets' and mine). And it must be showing. Upon seeing me in the hallway a couple of days ago, one of my students crowed "dang, Ms. G., you got the strut!"

Why thank you, Fredo. I do, don't I?        

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