I've been trying to practice intentional self care these past few weeks. (Don't I sound so in touch with my 2017 self in that sentence?) For real though, I know there are plenty of self-help books to tell me how to navigate the incredibly emotionally exhausting roller coaster of likely divorce, but none of them are actually written just for me and my marriage so it's still a lot of trial and error.
You know, like how I spent the first full weekend J-Man got with the kids alternating between watching Thirteen Reasons Why and packing all his things - therefore obsessing over memories in certain clothes and sobbing over tucked away love notes. That was a rough forty-eight hours...
Instead, I've been using the month of May to avoid sliding into depression or terrible binge teen tv-watching by keeping busy. First there was SA's wedding (I guess I should call her Dr. S, or really double Dr. S with the whole MD/PhD amazingness she has going on). Then a friend invited me to a hot yoga class. I should clarify it wasn't technically bikram because the thermostat only read 99 degrees but that's hot to me. And despite having to occasionally take breathing breaks in child's pose, I was pretty impressed with how well I rocked those 75 minutes. Also all the cheesy yoga talk about feeling open and refreshed and centered really applied. So the next week I bought a yoga mat and my first official pair of yoga pants and have been trying out videos in my living room since. Even the boys have gotten in on the action.
A different weekend I went to visit FR in New York. Sadly EK wasn't there since she is a a professional wedding attendee (or so it seems) but FR and I had plenty to keep us chatting. Our lives may not be mirror images, but I know I found it therapeutic and comforting to talk and talk and walk and eat and talk the whole time. She shared a favorite breakfast spot with me and I shared a favorite with her from my and DrDrSA's time in NYC - only 2.5 blocks from FR! - and we mutually indulged in our love of Central Park and Broadway. The musical we saw was War Paint, and those impressive voices almost made us dip into Sephora to buy some face cream. Then we decided that until we're real make-up wearers, we'll save our cash and pray the wrinkles appear slowly and gracefully.
This weekend, while I didn't expressly celebrate fallen soldiers, I did hang out with veteran Big O and KB's family for a fantastic cookout. I also did a 24 hour trip to Winchester where the boys got their rural activity fill by burning trash, riding the Gator, walking to the mailbox with Granddad, and checking on the garden.
Today we hit up a favorite A-town spot and watched the planes take off above our heads. They love the loud noise and the feeling like you can reach up and touch the giant jet-liners.
That and tossing rocks in the river, quacking at ducks, waving at turtles, and making new friends. For me it was a nice break from their recent need to be Captain Underpants. All. Day. Long.
All this to say that I didn't magically flip a switch on my birthday and stop feeling sad or crying, but May's been good. I'm being good to myself. So here's hoping June's more of the same, if not better.