Somehow October turned into one of the craziest months of this year. We've had birthday parties, at least one, every weekend; Sophie's birthday was the 14th, which meant working and baking for her birthday at school, and a small get-together turned chaotic free for all on the 27th; finally, working and preparing for Sophie's school Halloween party on the 31st. Wedge in a number of other engagements and appointments to fill up the dwindling spare moments in between and there wasn't much left of this month.
I don't mind the busyness. In some ways, I thrive on it. In the days leading up to Sophie's birthday party, I was up each night until the early hours of the morning baking and preparing. I felt exhilarated in my drive to do everything that needed to be done. Much like when I worked, and the push for a proposal would have me working long hours, I felt purposeful in a way that I don't often these days. Which isn't to say that my life is without purpose. It is. There is nothing more important than raising a happy, healthy child. But the day to day of it is wearying in a way very different from working outside of the home. It is a quiet weariness. The fatigue that set in after a hard stretch at work was harsher but easily recovered from.
The exhaustion I felt as this month came to a close was bone deep. It was the result of running a marathon and sprinting every other mile. After Sophie's party, I hurt. The aches weren't localized like they are after a particularly hard workout or vigorous exercise class. The legs. The chest. The arms. This was every single muscle of my body. I felt a weight of a thousand pounds when I tried to pull myself out of bed that morning. It took most of Sunday spent laying around before I started to feel like I wasn't under water. Even then, I was still beyond exhausted.
And now, with the school Halloween Party over and the final bit of insanity passed, I find myself sick. The running and running and running caught up with me. The recuperative days spent sequestered indoors during Sandy were not enough to bring me back from the edge. I awoke today, the Day of the Dead appropriately, with a sore throat, aches and chills. I've functioned. Even, probably inadvisably, made it to the gym for the first time in a week. But the message is clear. SLOW DOWN. Give my body a rest. Have some of those regularly tiring days before I jump back into the insanity that has become my life lately. And I plan to.
Just as soon as I go to the Mom Mixer event in Philadelphia on Saturday. And another birthday party on Sunday. And book club on Monday. And...
I think I need an intervention.