I keep thinking about what a bummer it is that loving Fall and yoga pants equates to being a basic bitch. Because I love yoga pants. And I Really. Love. Fall.
To me, that first day of slightly cooler weather that follows the final heatwave of the summer is like a holiday on its own. I saw this comic the other day that pretty much sums up the way I feel the second the temperature drops below 80. I feel a tingle of excitement and all the energy I’ve saved up through the summer Latin g around bemoaning the heat starts to spark up inside me again.
Pumpkins! Cinnamon! Leaves! Sweaters! No more shaving! HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE FALL?!?
The change in season always kind of brings me to reflect on the past eight months or so. Another year almost done? How did I do? Am I heading in the right direction? Am I being the person I want to be or taking steps to get there? It’s a time to slow down a bit and focus on cozying up our home, reading more, burning candles, celebrating family and eating carbs.
Since Charlie’s a little older I am SO looking forward to picking pumpkins, Halloween costumes, learning about menorahs and Santa and all the yummy foods that were choking hazards last year.
Now, to convince Matt to watch Hocus Pocus with me…
My body has been flooded with oxytocin for so many months, that I almost forgot what it was like to experience the exhaustion preceded by a few days of heavy anxiety. While I was pregnant, I also avoided those days, where simply existing feels so. freaking. hard. because all of your thoughts are competing for attention at the same time, and everything is happening TO you, and BECAUSE of you, and you are angry at your brain for being so self-centered but can’t get out of it even with the knowledge that it’s going to be over soon and you’re okay, you just think you’re gonna maybe die of panic. While I was pregnant, the hormones were mostly steady, so I forgot about the emotional swing that happens during the different cycles of the moon.
Last week, it hit me hard. I spent a few days being a mild asshole (but it felt much worse than that). I said things prematurely and without stopping to wonder how my words might affect others. I’m a frustratingly sensitive person, so it’s not everyday I storm past people in the office exuding nothing but anger and saying pretty much whatever came into my mind.
Luckily I have a strong support system, and my mom, my sister, my husband and my friends are understanding and forgiving (most of the time). And luckily, I’ve dealt with this for a long time and know how to speak gently to myself, to tell myself that those thoughts going around in my head aren’t truth, and that I am love, even when a little bit of shitty fear creeps in.