My body has an escape valve. If it thinks I’m running myself empty, I get a migraine. It’s sort of like having a passenger pull the emergency break on a train.
I come to a screeching halt.
Life has just been too full lately. Last weekend we were out Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, had people over Sunday, then went out Sunday night. The baby loved it, then burst into tears. I felt exactly the same.
This weekend, I went to an art workshop on Saturday, which was awesome but also the last straw. On Sunday morning I cried and cried and finally handed the baby to Ryan and slept for hours. The migraine is still there this morning, but is only a dull ache in the backround.
Today is gentler. Tomorrow I’m taking the baby for some quality grandparenting on the other side of the country. I was looking forward to it with all the excitement of Christmas, but now I’m just deeply grateful, and aware how much I need this. I have all day to do laundry, and tomorrow I will pack it all up, and we will go.
This trip might be all about the baby, but it’s me that really needs it. I need to be in my mother’s house, with my sisters nearby and my brother and my dad and all the friends who’ve known me since school. I need to be swallowed up by my tribe of noisy opinionated mamas, and their indulgent delighted men folk. There will be a houseful of people wanting to share the baby, and that is one of the biggest joys of motherhood so far.
Best cure for a headache, ever.