It's no great big surprise to feel exhausted when you have a couple of kids. Life seems like one big, long series of chores, especially when school is in session and my brain is usually fried at the end of the day...not from all that intricate thinking I've been doing, but by all the machinations needed to keep chldren engaged...or at least out of my way.
I'd complained to my doctor about feeling exhausted before. This year, I also complained about the raging PMS that takes over once a month. Blood tests and more blood tests. Turns out I have a pretty signficant vitamin D deficiency and I'm anemic as well. So, just in time to make me feel truly old before the big 4-0 hits, I now have a pill box with three or four pills to take every day. Oh, and one of those pills is iron, so cue daily doses of extra fiber as well.
Of course, I'm not particularly good at taking pills. So, now my body is on some kind of iron, vitamin D, fiber rollercoaster. Makes me wonder how big a favor I'm doing myself.
I went off all the pills a little while ago, when I developed an irregular heartbeat. I called the doctor, got an EKG, got diagnosed with PVCs and referred to a cardiologist, despite being told that they're totally benign. Of course, the PVCs, which had been bugging me day and night, were gone before I had a chance to call the cardiologist, so I didn't go. And I begrudgingly went back on all those pills.
Of course, it's not just my blood that's deficient these days. I've got way too many things on my plate. So many, in fact, that I have to remind myself to breathe and not think so much about it when I'm looking at the latest things we've signed ourselves up for. Today, that was the club baseball team. Sure, I can secretly hope that Smunch won't make the team at tryouts this weekend, but it doesn't seem altogether likely. And when he makes it, practice starts in early February. Eek. He won't be done with basketball for a month after that.
I've spread myself too thin with things I enjoy doing. And that's kind of O.K....except when you interject birthdays and other things that upset my very delicate balance. Then I end up with insomnia and trouble remembering not to stress about things. Silly me. I like my job. I like volunteering at school and being on the PTA board, I like having the kids play sports. I'm looking forward to giving up my PTA board position next year. It's been a worthwhile job, but I need my time back. I need to take better care of myself.
I'm to the point where I make it to a yoga class and a pilates class weekly, but I don't have time for more than that and my yoga schedule has to move around every week because no single class fits in my schedule every week. I feel better, but it's not enough. I used to make it out to the elliptical trainer in our backyard "studio" several times a week. No more.
So, I'm not really doing a great job of anything, but doing a passable job at a whole lot of things. Not a great place for a perfectionist to be.
Still, I imagine the pills and increased exercise are helping me feeling better. Except for a couple of days a month when PMS now just makes me exhausted, I have more energy and I don't feel such a burning need for a nap all the time. (A need that was almost never met regardless.) But gosh, it's just the beginning, isn't it? My pill box is nothing compared to my mother's.
Let's hope I get a whole lot better about taking pills...and saying 'no' to additional jobs...before my life depends on it!