We're all starting to feel better, huge relief. A whole lot babywearing, soothing and zombie-ing over the last few days. I'll drop everything else to care for them. Unfortunately, this means I neglect to take care of myself and then I often wind up sick too. Which leads me to something I've been wanting to post about: taking care of ourselves.
I'm striving to be great at it. I've always eaten well for example, but now I'm forcing myself to do the things that aren't as easy as eating organic spinach. You know, like going to the dentist for a cleaning. It is no wonder moms have trouble taking care of themselves in the early years of parenting. Arrange childcare so I can go to the dentist? Not very appealing.
I even went to the dermotologist. I have a bandaid and two stitches to prove it. I've always thought that going to a dermotologist is something only fancy people do. Rich girls with flawless skin who suddenly get a zit and "Oh my gawd, I have to see my dermotologist!" Or maybe that was just high school. Or maybe I'm fancy now.
Anyway, a tiny bump appeared where there was no bump before on my arm while pregnant. A very common thing (all those grow, grow, grow pregnant hormones in your body makes other non-savory shit grow too) but a bump is a bump is a bump (!) and I wanted it checked out. Actually, I wanted it gone. A bump! Take it off! Especially since my grandfather has skin cancer. Those damn fair skinned Dutch genes. It was benign (ie - not cancerous) so that was a relief. Even though I expected it to be okay those scary thoughts still crept in.
So my point? I thought I had one. It must be here somewhere. Oh yes, taking care of yourself. Do it. Even if you have little ones. It feels good.