This is what happens when you take an extra three minutes in the shower

The dinosaurs invade! Ohhhhh noooooo. And the worst thing is, they follow seem to follow the cult-like commands of a 36-inch tall leader wearing only a pajama top and Lightning McQueen socks, who has somehow lost his pants in the re-dinosaurification of "our woohhhhhhld."

And to think, I thought the Grey's Anatomy spin-off was scary or that there were too many Jonas Brothers on the planet. Things can get a whole lot worse than we ever imagined, my friends.

Hide your fancy shoes and the fish. Oh, and apparently, your pants. Definitely hide your jammie pants.

[photo credit: Jessica Ashley]

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When just relaxing requires a major renovation

After a few days of blerghy-dramatic dizziness and migraines, I took the weekend to do what I am always telling other people to do (sigh, why is that so challenging, to be as bossy to myself as I am to my grrrlfriends?). I relaxed.

This time, relaxing didn't include unpacking eighteen boxes or stopping at three grocery stores and Target in an effort to cram as much into my down time as possible. This time, relaxing included sleeping in the middle of the day, eating take-out, camping out on the floor to watch a movie, sleeping in and then topping it off with actually taking a nap while Lil E slept.

This weekend, I tried to listen to what my body was telling me: Too little sleep, too little food, too little time away from the laptop, too little fresh air, too little transition time between work and everything else is not good.

My body, as I have learned the hard way over the years and much more experience with blerghy-dramatic dizziness and migraines, screams out at me when it needs my attention.

Clearly, when my body's that worn, my spirit and mind are exhausted as well. In that place, the relaxing is not a luxury, it is a necessary repair. While thinking of my being as plumbing or ducts or some kind of dilapidated kitchen constructed in the (previous) avocado era isn't exactly pleasing or in line with that whole temple connotation, the sad truth is that I have been more likely to give my attention and energy to a spouting sink or blinking fluorescent light long before I would take a breather in the middle of my day or trash the to-do list for a weekend.

I know this isn't anything radical and that many mamas out there have the same struggles with self-care. How do we not only lose the time and inclination to take good care of ourselves, but the understanding of where to even start?

This weekend, I started with the basics. And this week, I am going to make those basics more of a habit.

You tell me: What do you do when your body is screaming for more self-care? How do take the time to tend to all that needs to be repaired in your being?

Remember Project: Life Change? Have any of those small changes made a big difference in how you are caring for yourself these days?

 

   

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Migraines

A few years ago, when Lil E was a baby and the almost-ex was working two jobs and many hours, when I was staying at home and fully immersed in that life and so wanting to work and make that life for myself as well, when we were terribly broke and feeling ardent in our choices and making many sacrifices to live them out, my body screamed out to me.

I know, I know. It's all so freakin' dramatic. This was only the beginning of the drama. For those of you in between episodes of The Real World and on the edge of your seats, it went like this: God-awful dizziness, fear, neurologist, carotid ultrasounds, ear/nose/throat test after eegads test, scheduled MRI, panic attack in the MRI, prediction of migraines and then a big giant pause to work out that whole anxiety mess. Phew.

Although I never made it through the MRI, I did get better. With the guidance of a great therapist, I've been working through a lot (and a lot more) ever since. So that has been a gift. I've been healthy and working slowly, steadily to tune into myself.

Then this weekend, the dizziness swept over me again. This time, it was all more clearly migraines, with headaches and nausea and more drama. I remembered what the therapist told me in the very beginning: That I'd gotten so good at bulldozing through, that my bo

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