For the first time since I think September, maybe October, I have actually gotten something accomplished on a weekend.
There is clean laundry enough for everyone that I shouldn’t have to do any more until next weekend. Enough meals have been planned to allow for us to not have to eat out more than maybe once. (one may involve cereal or left overs, but who’s counting) My Christmas tree is undecorated, I can see my desk (sort of) there is organization that has been done and I feel ready to conquer the week.
I figure I should take advantage of any energy bursts since I have no idea when I’ll get another one.
I even, hold your breath here, went to the gym. The one I have been paying for since October when I had one good week before the morning sickness hit and I felt like crud for three months. It was a short walk, but it was a brisk one, and I felt the urge to run. I didn’t, I know better, but I wanted to. That means everything to me. I may not have been as good as I wanted to be last fall, but just having the urge to run again means that I was right to get that necklace that says runner on it. I know that I finally found the thing that makes me want to get up and exercise. It still came in the most unlikely of places. It still takes work to force myself out there, but when I am running it feeds me.
I am happy to be pregnant again, but I am terrified as well. This means so much change will be coming for me. It is comforting to know I will have the running to help with all of it. I know that I will need to use it to help me adjust to what my life will become.