This week I got up every single (weekday) morning and exercised. We had full school every day. Our Russian tutor spent nine hours at our house, dredging up our lost Russian skills from the dusty corners of our brains. I cooked dinner each night. And my naps have shortened from two-hour marathons to a much more reasonable forty-five minutes.
We are back to fully functioning life and it is beautiful.
The older I get, the more I love a schedule. It's soothing to my soul to know when I'm going to get up, when I'm going to eat my meals, go to bed, and what will happen in between. I can slot all the event in my life into the schedule and know that all the important things (like my nap) are getting done.
And so the last four or five months have been a little hard on my psyche. Actually, it's been hard ever since I got pregnant. I'm no longer the young, energetic mother that I was a decade or more ago, and this last pregnancy wore me out. Instead of getting things done and feeling awesome, all I wanted to do was sleep, rest, and then sleep some more. So the last ten months have been in survival mode.
It's been hard to get any sort of schedule set up for those last ten months. After we finished school, the whole summer was spent preparing for our departure for the States. After getting to the US, we had a semi-schedule established that quickly got demolished as soon as Elizabeth showed up, and we've been running ever since.
But now we are back in Tashkent, I'm not pregnant, and I've been sleeping all night for almost a month. It's amazing. I love checking off a long list at the end of the day and high-fiving myself for being so awesome and getting all those things done that have been bothering me for the last ten months. Even more, I love not feeling destroyed after that day of doing useful things.
Brandon is especially happy that we're not going anywhere until July. And even more than that, we're both happy that we aren't moving for another year and a half. I realized recently that 2020 is the very first year since we each moved away from home at eighteen (so two decades for me) that we haven't moved, just moved, gotten ready to move, had a baby, or been pregnant. I guess I can hardly complain about having a boring life.
I'm sure by the time late summer rolls around and we're ready to get out of the country, I'll be happy to have a break in our schedule and have some variety. But for now, I'm just glad to back in the groove without any interruptions in sight.
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