State of the Momma: August 2013

This weekend, I ran the America’s Finest City 5k and set a personal record. On four hours of sleep. On a course with The Hill That Never Ends. By myself.

I'm kind of a big deal.

I’m kind of a big deal. (Photo credit: kind stranger)

In the wee hours of the morning of this year’s race, Suzianne simply would not sleep. Around 3:30 a.m., I was laying on the rug next to her crib plotting my Ninja escape from her nursery when my mind drifted and started processing the new and improved,┬áMargie, The Momma, Aug. 2013 Edition.

What a difference a year makes.

In August 2012, Dave and I moved to from D.C. to San Diego to start a public relations firm. Suzianne was five months old. Krissi and Reese helped me finish packing up:

My expert logistics team.

My expert logistics team.

(Dave left on August 10 to drive West with his soulmate)

Just a man, his poodle, and the open road.

Just a man, his poodle, and the open road.

On August 11, Suzianne and I made our move across the country. On an airplane. No way I’m driving cross-country with an infant.

Ubering to the airport.

Ubering to the airport, while Suzianne makes a weird air-nursing face.

This picture sums up my life for the first few weeks of SoCal living; I could barely function:

A type-A momma's worst nightmare.

A Type-A momma’s worst nightmare.

Mom’s place flooded the night we arrived (water heater), so we were hotel-hopping for awhile. During this time, a dear friend in Nashville passed away, and one of my father figures in Knoxville was given weeks to live. But I was too fogged up by pregnancy hormones, financial strains and moving logistics to travel home to Tennessee. Writing that sentence is a nausea-inducing. WTF? Where were my priorities? Guest question. Honestly, I have no idea how to explain the way my brain processed things at that time.

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