This morning was a flashback to my adolescence. Why? All because I slept in for an hour instead of exercising.
Lately I've been exercising Monday-Friday and taking Saturday and Sundays off. I don't think that's working for me -- mainly because I wind up eating too much on the weekends! So this week I thought I'd take Wednesday off, which would then make me feel like I needed to exercise this weekend since I missed a day. Plus, I've been absolutely exhausted Monday and Tuesday nights, and I thought maybe I needed an extra hour of sleep.
I'm thinking it was a mistake. Besides getting my exercise in for the day, there's an added reason I like getting up before the rest of my family: I am NOT a morning person. In my teens my mother rolled her eyes at how cranky I was in the morning, and she learned to back off.
What I've discovered is that I need time in the morning to fully awaken, to get my brain back together after floating in dreamland. I'm just not ready to be in conversations and get bombarded with a lot of information.
Take this morning, for instance. As soon as I get up, here comes daughter into my room (45 minutes before she usually wakes up) saying she's hungry. She follows me downstairs, where husband's getting ready to go to work and bombarding me with the game plan for the day, what needs to be done, what I need to do. I'm trying to make my breakfast while daughter's making her food requests in one ear while hubby's in the other ear telling me I'd have to cook dinner again and what I should do. Is it any wonder I looked up at him quizzically because I didn't catch half of what he said?
Yes, I got cranky. I was cloudy-headed, my attention was being pulled in several different directions and I just wasn't ready to handle it at that time of the morning. Hubby seemed all put off that I wasn't D0nna Reed or Mrs. Cleaver at 6:30 in the morning. But as the kids say, I just can't handle everybody up in my "grill" that soon after waking up! I start snapping and get frazzled. Not the way I like to start the day.
I realized as everyone got out of my hair that my little Robot from "Lost in Space" was in my head
, swinging his metallic arms and shouting, "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" (I loved "Lost in Space" as a kid. Even then my Gaydar was fully functional, even though I didn't know exactly how to define Dr. Smith, I knew I loved his campiness) We have been in high-stress mode at our house the past three days. Things are starting to come down from the critical mass readings and we can begin to catch our breath. This is my most dangerous time. When I'm in high-stress mode my stomach tightens up and I can't eat; it's when the stress is receding that I begin to be drawn to eating as a consolation.
So I have to be extra vigilant the next few days. I have to find other ways to "treat" myself instead of a box of candy or cinnamon rolls. My official treat for today was allowing myself an extra hour of sleep, and I'm going to keep reminding myself of that as I travel through what looks to be a very hectic day.
It may sound creepy to have a miniature robot in my head. But hey, I'll split into as many personalities as I need to if I can keep from waking up on the kitchen floor with cream cheese frosting all over my face.
Lately I've been exercising Monday-Friday and taking Saturday and Sundays off. I don't think that's working for me -- mainly because I wind up eating too much on the weekends! So this week I thought I'd take Wednesday off, which would then make me feel like I needed to exercise this weekend since I missed a day. Plus, I've been absolutely exhausted Monday and Tuesday nights, and I thought maybe I needed an extra hour of sleep.
I'm thinking it was a mistake. Besides getting my exercise in for the day, there's an added reason I like getting up before the rest of my family: I am NOT a morning person. In my teens my mother rolled her eyes at how cranky I was in the morning, and she learned to back off.
What I've discovered is that I need time in the morning to fully awaken, to get my brain back together after floating in dreamland. I'm just not ready to be in conversations and get bombarded with a lot of information.
Take this morning, for instance. As soon as I get up, here comes daughter into my room (45 minutes before she usually wakes up) saying she's hungry. She follows me downstairs, where husband's getting ready to go to work and bombarding me with the game plan for the day, what needs to be done, what I need to do. I'm trying to make my breakfast while daughter's making her food requests in one ear while hubby's in the other ear telling me I'd have to cook dinner again and what I should do. Is it any wonder I looked up at him quizzically because I didn't catch half of what he said?
Yes, I got cranky. I was cloudy-headed, my attention was being pulled in several different directions and I just wasn't ready to handle it at that time of the morning. Hubby seemed all put off that I wasn't D0nna Reed or Mrs. Cleaver at 6:30 in the morning. But as the kids say, I just can't handle everybody up in my "grill" that soon after waking up! I start snapping and get frazzled. Not the way I like to start the day.
I realized as everyone got out of my hair that my little Robot from "Lost in Space" was in my head
, swinging his metallic arms and shouting, "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" (I loved "Lost in Space" as a kid. Even then my Gaydar was fully functional, even though I didn't know exactly how to define Dr. Smith, I knew I loved his campiness) We have been in high-stress mode at our house the past three days. Things are starting to come down from the critical mass readings and we can begin to catch our breath. This is my most dangerous time. When I'm in high-stress mode my stomach tightens up and I can't eat; it's when the stress is receding that I begin to be drawn to eating as a consolation.So I have to be extra vigilant the next few days. I have to find other ways to "treat" myself instead of a box of candy or cinnamon rolls. My official treat for today was allowing myself an extra hour of sleep, and I'm going to keep reminding myself of that as I travel through what looks to be a very hectic day.
It may sound creepy to have a miniature robot in my head. But hey, I'll split into as many personalities as I need to if I can keep from waking up on the kitchen floor with cream cheese frosting all over my face.
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