First day of school breakfast

First day of school breakfast

This summer, I got really used to sleeping in. I don’t mean college-years sleeping in until 11:00 or 12:00. I mean the adult version, getting up around 7:30 or 8:00.

Which felt like sleeping in to me because for the nine months prior to summer, I had been getting up at 5:30 with my high school freshman son. Making him breakfast. Talking about the weather. Literally. And enjoying some alone time with him.

But by May, I was pretty much over it. And tired.

Well, it started again today. Because today is the first day of school.

My body was so dreading the early morning vibration of my wristwatch that I didn’t sleep much last night. And finally just got out of bed at 4:30. (I’ll be paying for that later. Luckily, dinner is already made.)

When I went in to my kid’s bedroom to wake him up, he popped out of bed. He’d been awake for a while too. (Like mother, like son.)

And we easily settled in to last year’s morning routine. Hot chocolate for him and a cup of coffee for me. Just to get things started. Then I made him breakfast while he showered. He ate while sitting at the kitchen counter and we talked about him being in some classes with his friends, golf try-outs this afternoon and, of course, the weather.

We walked out the door together and down the street to the bus stop. I said good-bye and, as had been my custom last year, went for a run.

I haven’t run in a few months but one of the things I love about running is that the more my mind wanders and shifts in to an even higher stream-of-consciousness gear than usual, the less I actually realize that my body is hating me for forcing it to be uncomfortable. I solve a lot of the world’s my problems when I run.

This morning, I had the following disparate thoughts:

  • I can make cornbread for dinner, to go with the leftover tortilla tomato soup. Because we’re going to get home late from try-outs.
  • My ass feels larger than usual. I have to remember to not let myself get out of shape. Wait, didn’t I say that last year?
  • I have my gynecologist appointment on Thursday. Last time I saw him, I told him I was going to get in to better shape. Oops.
  • My husband is leaving town on Wednesday. For six days. Wonder if we’ll have sex before he goes.
  • I need to remember to pack a sweatshirt when I leave town on Friday because I’m going to be in the mountains.
  • Shit, my car is almost out of gas.
  • I have five more years of this waking up early crap. (Because my daughter is only in eighth grade.)
  • And then, after the endorphins started kicking in, okay, maybe this early waking thing isn’t so bad. I’ll get back in shape. I’ll be more productive. And, since I have no choice other than to do it, I’m going to stop complaining. Life is good. Health, love, happiness. I’ve got it.

We’ll see how long that last thought holds.
But for today, I’m the LWA*.

* Luckiest Woman Alive.