We can now walk in our closet! And pick out clothes to boot! I did take a break from my official workout yesterday, but with all the heaving and ho-ing (?) of boxes and piles, my body was moved.

I stayed up WAY too late last night watching Waitress – loved it – and Joel came to my rescue this morning when Zoe woke up earlier than expected. The whole situation is bizarre. Yesterday, she woke up normally, took a two hour nap, went down at 8:00PM for about half an hour, and then played until midnight. Today she woke up early and took only a 15 minute nap later, derailing my plans for a workout. Alright, I thought, so she’s just trying to keep me on my toes – never get too comfortable – go with the flow – that sort of thing. So I packed her up in the jogging stroller and we headed out into the lovely, albeit windy, day. About a quarter of the distance I was planning to go, she started fussing. I checked her and decided she was just mad that she was strapped down and out of direct sight of me, so we continued. Well then she full on freaked out – screaming, crying, hyperventilating, the whole thing. Maybe she didn’t like the wind or the sun, but I have suspicions that she was manipulating me.

I dislike outdoor workouts anyway. So now I have a couple of choices, the way I see it. I can get up early and hit the gym before she wakes in the mornings, depriving myself of sleep, or I can wait until she goes to bed at night, also depriving myself of sleep, though let’s be honest here: I stay up after she goes to bed so I can have some semblance of life outside of motherhood, and using that time to work out, since I do enjoy it, would be smart. That has been the most workable solution so far.

Another option, which seemed like the only one this afternoon, is to chunk the whole working out thing and go on mood altering medication. The main reason I want to exercise on a regular basis is to correct my chemical imbalance and be a tolerable person. It certainly shouldn’t be for aesthetics – I swear my midsection gets huger when I work out, and I definitely gain about five pounds. Muscle or not – that is unacceptable to me. Meh. I’ll figure this out, hopefully in a few days.

Something else I need to figure out is how to help Zoe go to sleep. I think it’s like the Dog Whisperer thing – my energy might just be all wrong for the purpose. (I hype up dogs and children. Now that they live with Joel’s parents, the dogs are well behaved. Sigh.) Joel, however, has it down; his new nickname is The Sandman. It’s embarrassing how much more skilled he is at getting Zoe to sleep. Even though I still have nursing in my arsenal of soporific tools, a few Daddy bounces and she is gone. In fact, this post is brought to you by a Joel-induced Zoe nap.