Skip to main content

I'm Gonna Cry, Cry, Cry

I cry quite a bit. It's basically my reaction to just about everything. Whether I'm mad, glad, happy or sad, I'm going to bawl. I can try my very best to bury the tears inside but I have no poker face. As soon as I feel the air welling up in my chest, the lump in my throat, I'm a goner. Here's a brief list of the things I've cried over of late:

-The girls breaking the sunglasses my mother-in-law just bought me. I only wore them once!
-In a work meeting after watching a 9/11 Tribute.
-After reading or watching anything related to 9/11.
-Watching the commercial with the dad talking to his daughter before she drives away in the car, you know, the one where he sees her as a little girl and not a teen.
-Watching the girls warm up to Katy Perry's Firework before the Girls on the Run 5k.
-While running next to Caroline in the GOTR 5k.
-The very beginning of any race I've ever particpated in. There's something about watching others meet a goal, and me accomplishing my own goal, that chokes me up big time.
-Bedtime for the girls, at least once a week. There's a fine line between me keeping it together and losing it around 7:15pm.
-Watching my parents and in-laws play with the kids.
-During any St. Jude's or SPCA commercial.
-While reading A Thousand Splendid Suns. That damn book is so depressing.
-On Caroline's first day of school, after one of her classmates asked me if I was her Daddy. I cried inside a bit.
-The first day, and every day since, when putting Caroline on the bus.
-Watching Caroline sing and dance to Elizabeth Mitchell in concert and thinking about how I sang her these songs every day for the first year of her life.
-Looking at a recent photo where I clearly have a bald spot in the back of my head.
-When Charlotte squeezes my post baby kitty pouch.
-When my mom leaves after a weekend visit.
-At 5 am when Charlotte wakes up and I get her a bottle and I step in cat puke. And I clean it up and then I notice it is spewed all over the couch, too.
-Any time I open the door to Andy's office.
-When Andy yells at me for accidentally tipping over cleaning supplies in the laundry room. Just kidding. I totally ignore his ranting. It's like the adults in the Peanuts, you know?

I'm just an emotional basket case. My tears make some uncomfortable, especially Andy, but crying is a big part of who I am. And most of the time I cry because I'm happy. Or because I'm really tired and totally overwhelmed. It's all good though. Next time you are with me and I start to cry, please give me a hug because it helps. And if that's not your thing, maybe a pat on the shoulder? Or just give me some money. That's sure to put a smile on my face and I could buy myself some new sunglasses.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Me V. Parental Judgement

When you are pregnant, there’s so much to think about when considering the future: what color to paint the nursery, what decorating scheme to select from Pottery Barn, whether to go with disposable or reusable diapers, what to name your little nugget, and even deciding to use a cake or a box of balloons for the gender reveal party. You quickly learn that, if you share any of these decisions with anyone, you are bound to get opinions- lots of them. And, while this isn’t the first time we get solicited or unsolicited advice (where to go to college, what to choose as a major, what profession to pursue, who to date, who to marry, what dress to wear to the wedding, who to invite to the wedding, what type of alcohol to serve at the wedding..) the birth of a child seems like the first time that SO MANY opinions are given. It’s already a time of anxiety and unknowns that the opinions of others can easily feel overwhelming.What, I should have gotten the rocker that swings from side to side ins…

It's Complicated. It Doesn't Have To Be.

I was preparing dinner the other night. I still had my coat on and I was balancing a cat dish in one hand and a frozen pot pie in the other when Charlotte came into the kitchen. She had been in her room changing into her pj's. She pranced into the kitchen wearing only her favoritest undies- with the words SUNDAY emblazoned on the rump. She called out my name and I distractedly and tiredly looked in her direction, making eye contact. "Mom," she asked me, grabbing the soft, doughy skin above her waistband, "am I fat?" I dropped to my mental knees. I barely knew what night it was, I actually couldn't have told you in that moment what town Andy was working in on that particular evening, and all I wanted to do was take my bra off and her question stopped me in my tracks. I looked at her again, really taking in her body. Her beautiful, perfect body. I have loved her body during every stage of growth- from a chubby baby legs and round bottom to the freckle on her…

The Bubble Thought

Earlier this week, my sister-in-law posted one of her drawings on Facebook. The drawing depicted an image of a mother hugging her child before the child gets on the bus for the first day of the school year. As the mother hugs her child, there’s a thought bubble above her with an image of a gun. To accompany the drawing, my sister-in-law shared that this was her thought, which popped into her mind as her own child departed for school to begin a new academic year. I have no doubt that her post will be shared time again by parents around this country as we all send our children off to school to be educated. In addition to the normal fear that a parent has for their school-age school, like their academic achievement, development of meaningful friendships, and overall happiness and health, now parents have to worry about their safety while in school. We presently live in a climate where schools are hiring guardians who are retired police officers and members of the military whose sole purp…