It's 6:30 a.m. on Sunday morning. I've been up for a half hour and have switched out a load of laundry, unloaded and then reloaded the dishwasher and fed and took out the dog -- all before my first cup of coffee.
I feel a sense of accomplishment knowing I've gotten a jump on the day. I feel good being industrious as the rest of my family sleeps. I like the tranquil promise early morning brings. The day ahead is full of endless possibility.
Early mornings are my Me Time. And it's been a while since I had a good Me-Time morning.
Before we moved, I had plenty of them. I used to wake up at 4 a.m. to begin my day uninterrupted and alone with my thoughts. I'd sit at my empty dining table with a pen and paper, sometimes writing posts for this blog, but mostly hammering out to-do lists and meal plans for the week. I used my Me-Time mornings to do chores, catch up on the news and to pay bills. I never minded waking up so early. It was just nice to take care of things alone and without the kids underfoot.
Immediately after the move, I got sick and spent most of my quiet morning hours in the hospital. By habit, I'd wake up early, comb my hair and watch the sunrise. But instead of my typical routine, if I felt well, I'd push my IV cart down the halls and walk the figure-eight layout of the 8th floor over and over. I'd walk and wonder if the laundry room was overflowing. I'd do lap after lap, trying to imagine what was in the pantry and wondering if Mark and the kids were surviving on more than cold cereal and peanut butter. (They were.)
When I came home it took me a while to find my quiet Me-Time morning groove.
Despite the fact we'd owned the house for a full month and a half, I could count the number of hours of time spent alone in my kitchen on just one hand. I was unfamiliar with the layout and would walk around in circles, opening several cabinets before locating a desired item. Even loading the dishwasher was awkward. I'd arrange and rearrange dirty dishes over and over, trying to get every last item in, trying to maximize space.
For a while, I felt more like a house guest than the woman of the house.
But this past week, I've managed to get my groove back. Instead of feeling awkward and out of the loop, that familiar and comforting sense of calm control has returned.
It feels good to be back in the groove. And I appreciate my Me-Time mornings now more than ever.
Subscribe To Seriously, Jess
Posts
Comments
2 comments:
Oh, I'm so glad to hear you're getting back into the normal routine. I imagine you were thrilled to make a list and complete the tasks too. :)
That's for sure. I had no idea how much I'd miss the little things. Like the first weekend I felt well enough to ask Mark what he wanted to do. (Rather than know I'd just be beached on the couch or laid up in bed.)
Ahh. The little rituals that make our lives complete!
Post a Comment