Monkey Brain

There was a kind of peace to my illness over the last year. I became pregnant, and I was instantly either on bedrest, vomiting my guts out, anemic, contending with premature labor symptoms or marooned by my massiveness. I always had something to think about.

I would lumber through the house during my pregnancy, focused only on getting to the other side of the kitchen counter for my Zofran pills. That's it. Or I'd lie awake at night just thinking about how thirsty I was.

This may not sound peaceful to most people, but for those of us who live on a hyperactive mental treadmill, it was an unexpected pause from all the thinking I've done my whole life.

Today I went to my second yoga class this week. I'm determined to gain some muscle tone back, and to cure my constant back pain, so I've reported back to my yoga gurus for some physical training. And good yoga classes always include a little philosophy to get you through the poses. It was during this yoga class that I realized my "monkey brain" was back.

I started laughing near the end of the class when I realized how out of control my thinking had become. I was standing in the half-moon pose with my leg in the air and my hand on the ground and my knees quaking in their caps, and simulateously planning my WHOLE SUMMER.

So it not just my body that needs better muscle control, but my brain as well. When I was so sick, I truly thought about nothing but my own gut. I was so inwardly focused, I'd just walk by junk on my kitchen floor or smears of fingerpaint on my bedspread, and I'd think, "Huh," then keep on sailing toward the toilet.

But now I need to rein in my brain, who is so excited to be out of the gate and romping around, planning Chebbles' birthday party while adjusting Baby V's sleep schedule and worrying about my grandmother and swooning over Hub-D's haircut. All of these things I didn't think about for the last year are coming back -- all at once.

Oommmm.