Luxurious.

In an interesting turn of events, I am starting to understand why "people" say that EB is addictive. At least, I now know why it may end up being something I continue doing. Yes, my muscles ache. I actually have new muscles, ones that didn't exist before I felt them this morning.

Having said that, the addiction for me may reside in that silence as I back out of the driveway in the morning. My kids are all safely in their beds. Sleeping. J is sleeping. Everyone appears to be in some state of rest and happiness. No one really needs me for anything. I don't feel J stare as I leave the room - irritated that I am not billing instead of whatever it is I am doing that I am probably not enjoying. Nothing needs cooking, cleaning, heating up, or changing. I can just be alone in the quiet. From 4:45 am to 6:45 am, I am by myself doing something that solely benefits me that I enjoy without any criticism, judgment, or being torn that I am leaving my kids and doing something for myself.

I spend so much time being torn. When I work, I wonder what my kids are up to, whether they need me more than I know. When I am with the kids, I feel like I should be working. J makes sure that I feel like I should be working more. If it is not express, it is by example.

When I do anything for myself, I feel like I definitely am not where I should be. It is like that moment in Pretty in Pink when Iona (played by Annie Potts) says that every now and again she checks her keys, checks her purse, counts her kids and realizes that the feeling that she has are just repercussions from not going to prom. For me, I get this feeling and it is like - you shouldn't be here. Go back home. Care for your kids or your practice. Reality is missing, not keys. (I actually went to prom.) Go back to your reality. You are needed.

Interestingly, I actually feel like the fact that I "get" to work is a luxury. Whereas, the societal standard is women who get to stay home are luxurious. I feel like working is a luxury sometimes. I love my kids but love my job too. The other day my MIL innocently asked me, "why do you work?" I think she asked because it is clear that I am torn all the time. Always doing 100 things at once. I answered, "because I want to." Oh, for a woman to have wants. The horror.

So, getting that 2 hours in the morning is beyond luxurious because it is luxury without guilt. Quiet. Solitude. Time to think. Time to breathe the cold air (when I am not gasping for it, it is a little nicer). Yes, I am with others. Others who are ensuring that I stay motivated. But, they don't expect anything from me other than participating in a task that we all participate in together. They also don't ask me to feed them goldfish that I later have to dig out of the carpet. It is nice.

Now, the not nice part. Today, in EB, they made us jump rope A LOT. Remember how I mentioned my dislike for running? I think that I like running more than jump roping. I am a spaz of the highest order. I trip on the rope. My abnormally long arms get wrapped up in it. I try to jump and get exhausted. Try to skip and I trip. I am really lame. Don't people learn how to jump rope in grammar school. Apparently, I missed this. Because, I really suck at jumping rope. On the other hand, jump roping in the fresh air at 5:30 am...luxurious.