It’s that time of the week again. Time for the Sunday slow down, the Sunday flu, the Sunday scaries. Whatever you call it, sometimes Sunday can ramp up your anxiety. So I have lots of little Sunday rituals I do to keep me calm.

Last week, I talked about bubble baths. What’s better after a hot bubble bath than slipping into crisp, cool, white sheets? Nothing. Nothing is better. And that’s today’s topic…clean sheet Sunday!

Growing up, my mom always changed everyone’s bed linens on Sunday. It’s one of those things your mom would do when you were little and you kind of rolled your eyes. But then you grow up and realize that she was right…about everything, including clean sheet Sunday.

It’s the perfect reset. It’s a fresh start to your new week, whatever it might bring. Stripping your bed of last week’s sheets can kind of be a metaphor. You’re taking all the mess you dealt with in the last week and throwing it in the washing machine. Add your favorite detergent, fabric softener, even essential oils. Dry on super high. I like to put my sheets on my bed while they’re still warm. Though with 2 small kids running around, this rarely happens. I change their sheets on Sunday too, just like my mom did mine.

It’s as simple as that. Just pop some clean sheets on that bed!

Here it is…episode 3 of Authentically Audra and Emma. On this episode, we go off on all the tangents. We recorded this one exclusively in Audra’s car. We decided at 6am to go to the 9:30am slow flow class at Full Circle Yoga. We had two very different experiences. I’ll speak on mine…

I love slow flow yoga. It’s the perfect class for me. Slow, intentional movement. But today, I had the WORST time getting out of my own mind. I’m always stuck in my mind but 60 minutes of yoga usually kicks me out of it. Not today. Not even a little bit. I wasn’t even thinking about real things. I was making up narratives in my head about my evening. It was a good evening. But the moment my mind was even a little bit quiet, I started to go off the deep end of over analyzing every little bit. And Audra totally called me out on it during this episode.

But why? Why is this happening? There’s nothing wrong. I’m just making shit up. This is what happens when my mind is quiet or when I’m bored. And right now, I’m bored.

Clearly, the Abilify is not working. So now what? Back to the drawing board. And that’s another frustrating thing about mental illness. It might work. It might not. You might have to adjust your dosage or change meds or find another combination of ones that could work for you. That itself is daunting.

Even this…blogging. Sometimes it’s therapeutic and sometimes (like right now) it just kind of makes you feel worse.

If you’re feeling bummed out by me (sorry), go listen to our podcast because it’s actually funny.

Let’s talk postpartum bodies for a minute.

As a mother, we feel the pressure to be the best. We need to raise the smartest kids, be the most involved, sign them up for everything and then volunteer, work a full time job but never ever miss a kid event, and worst of all (in my opinion), “bounce back” after having a baby.

I’ve always hated this phrase. After growing an entire human in my body for 40 weeks, I’m expected to be bopping around in the exact same body as I was before baby. Let me tell you this; that’s not the way it works.

A woman’s body is an incredible thing. We can take two tiny ingredients and turn them into a person. A living, breathing, thinking, adorable person.

Everything changes. Not just your skin or your hips or your belly. But your heart. Your heart is what changes most. It’s no longer about you. This little person you made is the center of your universe and I think the last thing a woman needs to concern herself with is all the jiggly bits.

Here’s what happens when you have a 10 pound baby via c-section: your skin stretches as your belly grows so much that it starts to split. Then, there’s all the pressure so you get more stretch marks on your inner thighs. Your hips widen. Your boobs obviously get enormous. Basically, everything is supersized. And then, in a matter of many grueling hours, your body deflates.

And now you get to sport these gorgeous shiny pink stripes and a gnarly scar on your belly. But you know what else you get? The love of your life.

So the next time you’re squeezing yourself into some Spanx or shaming yourself for eating that donut or cookie or piece of cake, remember what you did it all for. I can promise you that little love of your life doesn’t care about your squishy belly. So why the hell should you?

This is the first post of my Self Care Sunday series. I kind of pride myself in my devotion to self care. I know it’s been a buzz phrase lately but it’s really very important.

As we all know, I suffer from sometimes debilitating anxiety. My mom used to say I’d get the “Sunday flu”. Without fail, every Sunday afternoon I would start to feel really sick. I know now, it was dread. I just dreaded the upcoming week. I would waste an entire day worrying about everything and nothing.

My Sunday flu started to subside a bit when I was a stay at home mom. I think mostly because you don’t actually have a weekend when you’re the parent who does literally everything. But when I moved out and started working full time, the Sunday flu started to rear its ugly head. So I developed a pretty solid self care Sunday routine. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing one element of my routine. These are things I can do any day but I ALWAYS do them on Sundays.

I’ll start with my favorite.

A bubble bath. I take a bath every night. I’ve never been a fan of showers. I have to wash my hair in the morning and I hate going to bed with the day on me. But my Sunday bath is quite a production. I usually bring a drink with me, tea or LaCroix. I make a conscious effort to get the bath temp just right. Next come the Epsom salts and coconut oil. I like Dr. Teal’s Epsom salts with essential oil. I usually stick to the lavender one because it doesn’t irritate my sensitive skin. If I’m feeling really indulgent, I’ll pop a Lush bath bomb in too. And then I just sink in.

Sometimes I read, sometimes I play music, sometimes I watch Netflix, and sometimes I just zone out. Whatever feels right, that’s what I do. I don’t come out until I’m completely pruny and bright pink.

Then I moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. I like a hot bath. The coconut oil helps keep my skin soft and not itchy but I’m also a huge proponent of lotion. I can never have too much. And then I go straight to bed. Slipping into crisp, cool sheets when you’re warm and toasty from the bath tub…it has to be one of the best feelings in the whole world.

And when you feel that good, who could you possibly have the Sunday flu?

For nearly a year, my soul sister wife and I have talked about doing a podcast. Because we’re basically experts on everything. We’ve been through a lot that people can relate to; a lot of things that people don’t talk about but what they should talk about. So here it is. The very first episode of our podcast. Next time, we won’t digress…so much. https://open.spotify.com/episode/2JxbWZhccMrc7iFM2QJV21?si=oWJjai5oSfC-Rq4lwroevA

I read a study once that said a person is a certain percentage kinder and more empathetic when holding something warm, like a cup of coffee or tea. I’ve always found this to be such a sweet idea. Feeling stressed? Hold a warm cup.

So that’s what this blog is going to be for me: my warm cup, a safe space without judgement, a way to wallow in melancholy until I make it out the other side.

This is an introduction.

I’ve had anxiety my entire life. Though, it wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I had a name to put on my feelings. I’ve always felt everything to the maximum. Everyone gets anxious about tests. I’d get anxious, make myself sick, and then fail them. Or get so worked up about the seventh grade because being 12 was absolutely horrible that I’d have to run off the bus and barf up strawberry Pop Tarts outside the girl’s bathroom.

I started going to counseling in college after the brutal breakup of a weird relationship. That’s when I learned that I’d been having panic attacks. I would wake up about an hour after I had gone to bed. My legs would be shaking. I’d have cold sweats. My heart would be racing so fast I could see it beat from the outside. I felt like I was going to simultaneously throw up and die.

Needless to say, I’ve been on some cocktail of antidepressants for over 10 years. Dosages have changed a few times. I’ve switched meds, added others, used certain meds as an emergency coping mechanism. But I’ve always had them. And I’m ok with that. I’ve also dabbled in cognitive therapy here and there. They always try to dig up something traumatic in my childhood. Fortunately for me and seemingly unfortunately to most of my therapists, I had a pretty normal childhood. I’m basically trauma-less. I’m just an anxious lady.

Recently, my life has taken a major left turn. I’ll dive into all of that later. But what this is all for is for me to record my feelings, validate them, let them sit with me if I want them to, and then to let them go. I tend to hold onto things far longer and way harder than I ever should.

My current lesson in life is patience. Patience with myself, my babes, potential partners, friends, family. Can a person who feels so much have patience? That’s what I’m hoping to find out.