My day started normally...boys fighting over the TV , baby crying, husband crying because he was up at 5 with the baby because I went to the gym. I prayed for noon as I do on many days that start off this way, knowing that when noon comes and the oldest gets on the bus there will be some peace and perhaps some quiet for a few short hours.
As I waved good -bye to the bus and smiled to myself , I turned to find the middle child sound asleep on the floor and the baby half asleep in the swing. When the baby stirred and made that face that caused her to look like a 90 year old man I snatched her up quick and ran up the stairs. I rocked her in the playroom and she fell asleep. I wasn't in the mood to risk putting her down. I was tired and , although I did need to clean I aborted that idea and found the red net flix package and promptly put in "Marley and me". That was the first mistake of the afternoon. Of course you have to know that the movie doesn't have a happy ending. It's about a dog's life and as all of our lives end, this dog's ends with the story. I did read the book, loved it, but fell short of finishing the last pages because I already knew the ending and didn't care to make myself cry. The movie was a different story and as I watched and laughed through most of it when it came to the end I was a blubbering idiot.
Just watching the old dog lying on the stretcher as Own Wilson tells him he really isn't the world's worst dog ( I actually think we have that title in our house) pulled at every sentimental string my body has and the tears just fell like leaves in an autumn storm. And as the trees look sad after the storm I can only say the same for me when the movie was done. I cried so much my face had a sheen to it and my eyes were small slits beneath all the swollen skin.
The movie finished in time for kid number two to wake up and kid number one to come off the bus. Kid number one promptly went to the computer and kid number two only wanted some juice and a Thomas video. Easy enough. Baby still sleeping , now comfortably on our bed, so time for a little Oprah. I had no idea what she had on but I was hoping for something funny.
Wrong. I got a farewell to Dr Oz. Which on the surface should not have been anything sad since he is only moving to his own show in September. But they brought out all the people he has helped. Including a four year old boy he saved after Hurricane Katrina. Now the tears would just not stop. It is really just ridiculous and I would like to claim post partum but since we are now 8 weeks out I am not sure that is fair.
I will say I think a good cry is healthy, even essential. And I am quite good at it. I don';t have that beautiful Demi More in Ghost cry, it's more like Jim Carey impersonating Demi Moore but regardless crying is helpful is unknotting all those emotions that build up. SO if you happen to pass me one day and I look like Jim Carrey impersonating Demi Moore no need to stop and give me a hug, it'll pass and I'll be back to normal in no time....I'm a pro.
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