Say 'chubby bunnies'
I SAID, say 'chubby bunnies'
Disclaimer: No one was traumatized while squished cheeks were being coaxed to spill their chubby bunnies. There were no tears. There was no pain, no fits. Except for fits of the giggles.
And then he said,
I'm not just your average boy, Mommy.
~~~~~I've been trying to write a post for a few days now. It's a Very Important Post. Or something. Actually, I have about five posts working, saved as drafts, just a-sittin' there a-wishin' they were fishin'. Or... a-finished.
What? I don't have any idea what that meant, but now here I am writing this nonsensical post off the top of my head instead of those other ones. It seems that any time I sit down to spend some time on the world wide web these days, something comes up. Ryan is traveling for work more again now, and let me tell you, The Sisterhood Of The Traveling (Or Deployed) Husbands is brave and strong. Or at least we try. (not that I'm comparing my one week home, one week gone absent husband to a military man, I'm not. It's way different.)
My head is a jumble and life is so full over here. So much of it is good, like warming days with blooming daffodils and friends over for dinner and thunder as a reminder that rain comes to wake things up. And our boys, of course and our house (which is slowly coming together and looking so great-I'll do a One Room One At A Time post soonly). Yes, life is so good. We even have sea monkeys.
And then some of life's full is really hard and that's how it always is. Good and hard. Life.
It took me until I was somewhere in my 20's to figure out that life doesn't really ever go along swimmingly. There's always something. I've said here before that I can vividly remember asking my Dad, when I was about 21, Is being a grown-up always this hard? He gave me one of his looks and a nod, like he was a little afraid to be honest, so as not to burst my bubble. Now, as I near 35, I realize 'the look' probably said something more like Oh, you have NO idea.
And I'm sure I still don't.
That's kind of depressing (and terrifying), I guess.
But it's just the truth and so I have to choose to hold on to the right now and see that it's good, full of humor and light.
I'm of the opinion that we can do that even when the funk hits and we just can't feel good. That's okay, it will pass and, Oh my stars guess what? We have to ask for help and give it too because that's why we're here.
The beauty is that we can still see good at all, even when that good seems to be pinging around and bouncing off as fast as it can, unwilling to stick to our mood.
So far away.
Good things, always being blurred by just how fast they move through us.
It's frustrating, when all you want to do is just hold on to that feeling of good and then ping, whoosh, gone.
Another good thing is that there are so many good things, or the hard might swallow me right up with its busy and much. I suppose it could, and maybe even would, if my eyes fell off the good.
Keep looking at the chubby bunnies, friends. And I'll try right along with you.