I am feeling a little crazy tonight. A few times in my life, I have felt this way, which is most clearly defined by my tendency to laugh a little too exuberantly at things that aren't really funny until I am laughing so hard I can't speak, but whatever it is that I'm trying to say is so deliciously hilarious that I keep trying and trying until I am choking on my laughter and I begin to sob. Often racking sobs and then I get really sad. The last time I remember this happening was before Manny was born. Aaron, Mindy, Harry and Kathleen were over and we were watching an online Japanese video about potty training animated cats. And we were all laughing because it was really funny, complete with personified poo-poos. And then I just freaked out and cried in a very unreasonable voice something to the effect of, "This is going to be my life!" And then I just started to sob and sob and sob. Like I couldn't stop. That is how I have felt tonight. Except I haven't sobbed yet. Maybe I should make this post short and try to beat the crash that's coming.
A few things I want to remember...
Glory is officially rolling over now, which she demonstrated brilliantly while I was trying to change her diaper on the family room floor.
Manny brushed my hair this morning. I was playing with the girls and felt him brush, but I couldn't figure out what large, long brush he could be using. Fortunately I caught him before he turned the vacuum on.
Later, while still playing with the girls, I turned around and there was Manny, looking incredibly proud, holding the bottle brush that I use to scrub the sippy cups. It was dripping all over the carpet. He smiled and said, "Mama! Toilet!"
We installed another gate between the dining room and the living room to protect the girls from the three steps. It has two large transparent plastic panels. While I was vacuuming the living room, the girls were both sitting on the top step, their little chubby legs dangling over the edge of the top step like they were sitting on a dock dipping their toes in the cool water. I already was getting a bit of the crazies and decided I was going to mash my face against the panels to see if I could make them laugh. They both mashed their faces back and shortly thereafter, Manny was mashing his face too and we were all kissing each other with smooshed lips through plastic. It was uproarious and transcendent. And it made me want to dance. The rest of the afternoon and evening, when the children weren't taking turns melting down, I continued to entertain and they continued to laugh. They were eating it up. I was like a human dancing Elmo. If Elmo wore a black nursing bra under a white v-neck covered in remnants of the five meals he prepared in the last ten hours. Ah yeah.
This morning on my way to the coffee shop, I thought to myself, I don't need this anymore. This being caffeine, routine, feeling keen. I don't know. I just thought I don't need this every day. But as the night wears on, I've decided the jury's still out. Tomorrow's a long day, I've got a plugged milk duct, and there's inevitably going to be lots of dancing to do.