Sometimes you have to move into sloth mode.

Yesterday beside the laundry, dishes, floors, and feeding ninjas, I didn’t do a damn thing. I literally laid in bed, jumped in the shower, checked on ninjas, and repeated the cycle.  I am, to quote Grandma Black, plumb tuckered out.

I’ve spent the last two years running full throttle on adrenaline. I think my endocrine system has finally turned off the instant energy switch. I am completely exhausted.  Given the choice between Hawaii or my bedroom for a 10 day sleep, I would choose the latter.

Even my swim times have decreased. I’ve gone from a kilometer in 21 minutes to 23 minutes. These are not great times. Twenty years ago I could swim a K in 16 minutes. It must be age.

Summer vacation is not helping. Schlepping ninjas on the bus with backpacks can knock the wind out of you. Schlepping fighting ninjas makes you want to throw yourself under the bus. This morning they fought for 25 minutes over who was taking what backpack, literally. Why did I go through 5 years of hormones to get pregnant?

So no joke, this morning a I put on a pair of really nice Eileen Fischer pants I bought about 5 years ago. They were a bit big then.  Always listen to your first instinct, as I was putting them on I said, “these are never going to stay up”.  But of course, I wore them anyway. Sure enough, when I went to pick something up off the floor of the bus, they fell down when I stood put. Mass humiliation, but at least it was comedy for the passengers. UGH, where is my bed.

I haven’t even been to the beach in 3 weeks. I’m jonesing for some waves. At least last summer, I spent more than one Thursday night sitting on the beach. I miss that, but hey they say Jellyfish are at an all time high this year, so that’s the upside.

The great part of being so tired you can’t get out of bed, is that you get to spend a lot of time cuddling ninjas. In spite of sticking to each other because of the heat, when those little arms curl around your neck, you know it’s all worth it.
August will be here in a couple of weeks, and the boys will pack off to Oren for 14 days. I’ll be able to recharge then. There is a reason they call them Dog Days. I think it’s because you want to curl up in a ball and wait for it to start raining again.

Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.  ~Russel Baker