January 2, 2014 - Post Traumatic Tree Syndrome

The day after New Year's is such a bummer. Everyone's taking down the lights on their houses, pulling their cute snowman decorations from their front lawns, and of course, there is the disturbing Christmas Tree roadkill in every gutter on my street. It's just such a downer after a glorious month of hope and joy - back to the boring, lightless houses and bah humbug public.

I think this year I'll put up Valentine's decorations early, perhaps that will get me out of my post-holiday funk. Get a bit of love up over the fireplace. Pom Poms, hearts and all that crap. Sure, that may work. Only it will probably get me hungry for chocolates and less hungry for calorie burning workouts...not that I resolved to exercise more than 5 minutes per day, at least not in January. But red hearts and cupids do pose a bit of a Pavlovian response in most women, and lord knows I don't need any help in conjuring up a desire to wolf down the Godiva truffles in my pantry. Those are Gluten Free right?

Speaking of Gluten Free, I've been eating G Free for almost two years now. Who knew I could do it? I guess not having a gassy stomach every day of my life is the best motivation for change. Proud of myself. Still friggin' exhausted because I have two kids under the age of 8, work full time from home and surround myself with a decently social life. No gluten hasn't turned me into an energy dynamo, but it has allowed me to spend less time in the bathroom. Kudos for me.

To be honest, getting back to the holiday sadness, I realized this year its because I'll never get this one back again. 2013 I mean. I won't have two little ones under 8 next Christmas, they will be closer to college than they were this year and my youngest will be in elementary school full time. I will cry my eyes out when I see those less-chubby cheeks enter into that little door. In fact I am tearing up right now just thinking about it. When did I become such a sap? I think when they took out that first placenta to be truthful. I've been crying for 7 years pretty regularly - sometimes its joyful, sometimes they are tears of stress, other times they are frustration streams of salty goodness, other times I cry just because I miss tiny hands and footie pajamas. Regardless, I cry more than I should I think. It must be this premenopausal bull shit. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  Well that and childbirth.