But I don’t wanna go to bed. The sun is still up.
Daylight savings time is killer on a toddler’s routine. She gets out of her bed every 10-15 minutes until close to 9:30. Tomorrow morning is going to be awful. I need to wake her at 6:00 AM when her little body still thinks it’s 5:00 AM.
Yesterday, someone randomly mentioned the town where I went to college. This is weird. Jacksonville, ILLINOIS is a tiny little town in the middle of no where. It has quite possibly the world’s smallest college that NO ONE has ever heard of. Then, my BFF texted me to see if I wanted to go for a mani/pedi on Saturday. These events seem unrelated but they created the perfect storm for a wave of memories to come tumbling back into the forefront my my mind.
I’ve always been a morning person…in the fact that I haven’t slept well in longer than I can remember. Therefore, waking up in the morning has never been an issue for me because I probably wasn’t sleeping anyway. Now, pulling myself out of bed has always been a feat unto itself. I don’t like to leave the comfort of my pillows and blankets and cozy PJs. I don’t like to feel the cold floor on my feet or the wait for the shower to warm.
So, I haven’t done a Memory Monday in a very long time. I haven’t actually blogged in a long time. I guess being pregnant keeps you just a busy as the actual baby. What have I been doing? Nesting. Nesting at work and nesting at home. My classroom is officially set up for my maternity leave. Lessons are planned, worksheets are copied, IEPs are written. Very little left to do and if it didn’t all get done…no one would know but me. Nesting at home…eh. Laundry is done. We had two BEAUTIFUL showers hosted by our families. So many generous gifts…so much to organize.
Birthdays PM (post mom) pretty much suck. I had my 37th birthday a mere 3 weeks after my mom died. I wasn’t exactly in a celebratory mood. I remember my dad asking me if I wanted to go out to dinner. I told him that I just wanted to make dinner like a regular Thursday and forget the day had some sort of significance. Honestly, with exception of my wedding, honeymoon, and very few other joyous events, I would have liked to have forgotten that my 36th year even existed. I wanted a redo.
What is a year?
The blink of an eye.