Coffee and Calamari

I woke up yesterday and gave up the ghost.

I get two mornings a week without Ellie, and both I go to the gym. It pretty much kills the whole 3 hours. It's 9:30 yoga, followed by a one mile walk then the grocery store, and back to pick her up.

Neither relaxing nor especially rewarding.
I dislike yoga, although with practice, I do enjoy it more - and likely will continue to do it after the maybe babies are born.

Having said all this yesterday I stopped.
It's silly really. I have two weeks left until the cerclage, then it's nothing, no exercise at all, none, until after the birth.
No sex, no swimming, no exercise at all.
And likely two quick weeks of bedrest before I can get up again.

So why am I going to spend the next 4 free days, the last four free days, pursuing something that I'm not going to do for 6 to 8 more months?

I quit.

I'm nesting it seems. Trying to get things put in the house, out of the house.
Making dentist and hair appointments, finalizing gifts, buying shower presents.
I'm trying to finish everything I can, at 10 weeks, because in 3, I'll be told to stop moving.

Yesterday I wore jeans rather then sweats, a sweater vs a yoga top, and set forth, determined to go to the mall, to buy my husband a card, to buy the babysitter her "Period Present" (my little girl is growing up...)., to find out the number to the consignment shop.

And the phone rang.
My friend Cindy called.
She's in my town, just for an hour, less actually but will stretch it as far as she can, and can we meet for coffee.

"Why yes. YES we can" Because I am quitting going to the gym.

I'm big. I'm at 10 weeks larger then I was at 20 with Ellie. I'm heavier, slower, more tired. I'm not even out of the first trimester, if I even make it, and I'm showing like it's month 4. I feel like if maybe I was fitter when I started, my abs tighter, I'd be smaller today. I'm embarrassed to be so obvious when it all could disappear. "Oh goodness, you're pregnant. How far along are you???"
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

But I went.
For coffee.
And my 6th coffee roll in 4 weeks.

And it was lovely.
And we talked, quickly, and we talked, thoroughly, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself. My old self, not my mommy self.

Not to say we didn't talk about kids, or husbands, or home and hearth. But we had a lively, engaging conversation.

I left and ran errands. I called another friend. An email blog friend, not a phone buddy. And we chatted.
For an hour.

And then we made plans to meet.
That night.
With a third friend.

For 5 hours.

I went out last night and sat at a bar, with two of the most stimulating, conversant, passionate and opinionated woman. WE dished, we discussed, we analyzed, we laughed, and we dissected. For 5 hours. FIVE hours we sat in the same three chairs.

And it was the fucking shit.

I woke up today hungover.
Not with booze but with serotonin. Because yesterday three friends awakened life in me. They reminded me of everything else that was interesting, good, bad, powerful, stimulating in this world.

Three friends came along, in one day, and with the power of their own self confidence and strength and curiosity about their lives, gave me back a passion for mine.

Yoga? Good for the mind.
Three friends? Good for the soul.