A while ago on Facebook, I posted something to the effect of "Do you ever wonder if maybe you've already gone crazy and nobody told you?". I'm contemplating that notion once more. If I had gone nuts, would I know? I can find fairly strong evidence that that may be the case, all around me, I don't have to look too hard. Luckily most of the time, I'm so busy I don't have a lot of time to really think hard about anything. When I do stop and take stock of where I am, what I'm doing, the mountain of insurmountables in front of me, I wonder why my parents ever let me out into the world on my own.
I've got this ever growing tummy right under my nose, and yet I can't wrap my head around a baby actually showing up next month. There's baby gear all around, I'm feeling a near-psychotic need to clean everything in sight, it all points toward a tiny person arriving shortly. Apparently I am the one who will be giving birth. Huh...
I keep waiting for my van to clean itself. Every time I get into it, I am appalled and annoyed that it's as filthy as it is, as though I've been promised it will be different the next time I open the door. My fairy god-mother is a slacker.
Would you believe I was envisioning pulling some lady's hair and growling something rude at her in Sunday school this past Sunday? I didn't. She would have deserved it, but I didn't. There was a guy at church a few weeks ago I could have happily let have it too, but lucky for him, we never wound up in the same room. I realize my attitude is probably due for some tweaking. I think I can handle quite a bit of nonsense from people, but heaven help you if you treat my kids poorly, or if you just happen to be the straw that breaks this camel's back.
Bathing suit shopping. Maternity bathing suit shopping. Maternity bathing suit shopping when you only need the stinking thing for one week. Maternity bathing suit shopping for something you'll use for a week when money has about 80,000 other places it needs to go. Yeah.
On the upside, cuckoo goes both ways. I'm confessing here that I do actually believe that I have parking space angels. I get the best parking spaces probably 99% of the time. I'm almost never more than three spaces from the storefront. The seas of cars part before me. It's maybe not the most highly-coveted kind of angel to have, but I've got them. They do come in handy.
My kids are probably a massive piece of the pre-school type puzzle that explains my less-than-stable state of mind. But they're awesome. Between Marley's hugs and saying "I mish you!" anytime we've been apart for more than a few minutes, and Duncan busting a move for anyone who'll watch, and Gabriel explaining some complex story with his photographic recall, and Noah making up songs that include all of us (and oftentimes Jesus) in some unexpected or hilarious way... they are the joyful glue daily putting this particular mind back together.
Best wishes from the institution,
Wendy
