The windows were all fogged up.  The thunderstorm and the air conditioning had been hot and heavy.  The sun was low—it was that time again.

He and I went outside.  We have a difference of opinion as to how he handles his aggression.  He thinks he is protecting me from wild beasts.  I think he is trying to eat the neighbor’s pets.  The truth maybe is in the middle.  Regardless, he is my hero.

<center>![image-2018-06-30.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmekGKNsXv3xhreMRpCCmXKZwvdvNPy6Avzopc2yaFYC3x/image-2018-06-30.jpg)<p>*Big Dog*</p></center>

We hit the street.  I felt a burst of energy.  Tonight I was not vibing off his anxious-protector energy.  My body couldn’t keep up with my spirit.  Finally, the clouds parted a little.  Nine weeks ago I stopped breastfeeding.  *Nine weeks of hormone disruption*.  The energy-sapping, mood-muting hormone clouds had been hanging over me so long that I hadn’t even noticed how the regular me had fallen asleep inside the rest of me.  Today, the sun shone through a little, and I woke up full of life.  The energy can’t be contained.  

Today I deep cleaned my entire house, and I’m not tired.  I prepared a presentation to be presented tomorrow, and I’m still not tired.  I made dinner, chased children, did the dishes, chased children, walked Old Man Dog, chased children, and finally Big Dog and I hit the street.  Still not tired.  

When the hormones shift, things change abruptly.  When I was pregnant I wanted foods that had been lost in the subconscious since childhood, but returned out of the blue and with extreme urgency.  When I started weaning, I lost five pounds in a matter of days for no apparent reason.  Shortly thereafter I lost interest in eating sugar. (What effect can hormones have on addiction?)  Now, I want coffee.  I don’t drink coffee, but I don’t care.  I want that slightly bitter, earthy taste on my tongue.  I want the smooth steam and the hot mug leaned against my abdomen, filling me up with warmth.  I want that dark, earthy color to gaze at.  I want earth, minus the grit, in my mouth.  *Now*.  

<center>![image-2018-06-30 (1).jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXyMdh6F1nEd4DQfFXFPJDvv2x6cynrbCL6iQL8CR7kq8/image-2018-06-30%20(1).jpg)<p>*As above, so below.*</p></center>

Not then, though.  Right then I had to indulge a body not weighed down by a uterus full of baby, and not weighed down by a nursling that slowly sucked all the nutrients out of my bones and teeth.  My body belonged to itself once more, and it *felt* like itself again.  I was ready to run a marathon, but Big Dog wasn’t.  I could read his mind.  *Where’s that punk hound that thinks she can approach you?  I smell her, and it’s a dangerous smell.*

I followed him into the grass, and both of us soaked our feet in the puddles.  I looked down at my feet, muddled by the brown water, and my eyes trailed upward.  Up my legs, to my hips, to an abdomen that was distended out beyond what one could imagine—twice.  I’ve tested out my body’s capabilities, and she runs efficiently.  The biology of it all—including the hormones that made me want cheese sticks from Pizza Hut that I hadn’t eaten in fifteen years, or coffee that I haven’t touched in two—is ridiculous and fascinating.  I love being a woman, and riding this non-stop roller coaster.  

Big Dog sniffed the air.  The tinge of pink on the clouds was growing dim.  One lonely bachelor of a dove sat high on the wire above us.  He had nothing to sing about.  We passed not far from a buck standing at the edge of the creek.  I’ve seen his little family many times, as construction forces them into our vicinity. He had stubs of antlers coming in, and stood at attention, looking very brave for a deer.  He was the hero of his kind.  My hero only gave him a sideways glance - he knew the buck would run.  We walked on, him padding slowly in his big clunky paws, and me moving my muscles with the vitality of new found youth.            

<center>![image-2018-06-30 (2).jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmeegAop3Lzr36RZYYMmHZH9EZGVPPruEAzhz5ie81zEKa/image-2018-06-30%20(2).jpg)</center>

We made it home as the sky turned a boring grey.  The deer were long lost in the woods.  The dove had flown off to sleep in a lonely tree.  

And now, I’m getting some of that liquid earth in my mouth.