Fuck It February

Oh February.

I dread the second month of year.
There's something about it that's just insulting.

Summer and Autumn are such glorious revels. Spring is such relief from the misery you almost forgive it for its fits and tantrums of cold, wind, and rain because at least it isn't snow, ice, and tomb-like darkness. December has the holidays to humanize it, and January, for whatever reason always seems so busy that I can never get a handle on it until the last week, when I look up, and there it is: February, bleak and endless.

That the shortest month of the year should somehow be experienced as an eternity is part of its hideous sorcery.

It is the month, without fail, that sees me succumb finally to the seasonal depression, to drown in malaise and despair, to wither in isolation, and give up on all my best set intentions of a brand new year.

It is also the month in which I previously used to eat all of my feelings and the contents of all the cupboards.

It's funny...
When I got pregnant, it was the end of February.
Which actually means that I was healthy.

Though I was the heaviest I had been in years. Perhaps that's saying something, eh? That I needed the extra weight in order to perform the function of procreation?

Let that sink in for a minute.

Some of us actually NEED the extra weight for our bodies to perform the functions of a healthy human being.

I think February is also the most difficult because it is the month we spend the most acutely alone with ourselves.
There are no distractions, no holidays or parties to prepare and attend.
The outdoors is a formidable foe, something to be endured as briefly as possible, and not somewhere anyone sensible spends any time.
People don't visit because they're busy burrowing into their own warrens.
People don't go anywhere (unless it's tropical, and let's be honest, I'm not going to the islands this year so nobody else is allowed).

In general, we are left for 28 days to unflinchingly spend in our own company, and this can drive most of us mad because we discover how truly dreadful we are.

In the past, I would challenge myself to do 28 days of yoga (a thinly cloaked announcement that I would be "centering myself" when in reality I was just trying to get six pack abs).
Or I would do a "cleanse".
"You guys, I'm going sugar free for February this year!"
"None for me thanks, I've given up alcohol for the month of February."
"Ugh, you're ice cream looks so good, but I'm not doing dairy this month."

A great way to punish myself and assign an arbitrary sense of virtue and shame to a month I could not give more meaning to on my own.

So with the baby being a teensy bit more self sufficient (read: I can put him down and do a half hour of yoga *sometimes*), I am NOT doing any of that shit this year.

In fact, since I've been sick all week, I've been unable to exercise at all, and I've been ravenous constantly, so I've been eating what I want, when I want, and refusing to feel bad about it.

So here, in no particular order are my goals for this February.

-Continue the trend I began in January, and read a book every week.

-Give up the scale. (I've been weighing myself every Tuesday since I can remember. This month, I'm going to skip it, and see if I forget. I'd really like to throw the damn thing out, but my Beard is all fitness psycho right now. His prerogatives are not my prerogatives though, so FU scale).

-Continue to listen to my body as best I can, rest when it is tired, eat what it wants when I feel hungry, and honor my hunger and fullness cues, but forgive myself if sometimes I eat for comfort because goddamn it is cold out and chocolate coated everything sounds mighty freaking fine.

-Make a concentrated effort to take the baby to a social activity (despite the fact that I'm pretty sure the *&%$-ing library toddler reading group is where I got this cold) at least once a week.

-Continue to donate what I can afford to organizations that resist the agenda of the current political regime, at least once a month. (So far I've done Planned Parenthood and The Preemptive Love Coalition. Next on the list is the ACLU).

-Do something for myself once a week that doesn't involve exercise, food, or baby.

These are my goals.

These are my survival tactics.

This is going to be the first time I look back on a February and I think,
"Yeah, that was pretty effing good."