In my last post, I told you that I am so excited about this brand new year ahead of us!
This morning, less than a week into a supposedly fabulous 2014, I sat at the kitchen table with my 14-year-old and a Saxon Algebra 2 book and, for no apparent reason, began crying.
No, 2014 did not wipe out on the first turn. It's still going to be an amazing year.
It's just that I am a little overwhelmed by the multitude of exciting life events happening around me. And I'm absolutely exhausted.
When I'm really, really, really ridiculously tired, I cry.
Some folks, if you cry in front of them, they get angry. Or they start defending themselves, explaining how they haven't done anything to justify your torrent of tears - like the tears have anything at all with them. Or they tell you how you don't really have anything to cry about - you know, the "suck it up" routine. Or they explain how life is no bed of roses for them, either, but you don't see them crying, do you? Or they sulk up and get oober moody, so that in addition to trying to handle your own emotions, you have their funk to deal with, too.
Crying can be like negotiating a mine field. So, I don't cry very often, not where anyone can see.
When I began crying this morning, Helen hopped up and grabbed a couple of tissues, then sat back down beside me, handed me a tissue, and teared up herself. We had a red-eyes, snotty-nose, soak the tissue cry together.
Then we took deep breaths, laughed, and tackled her math.
Helen is a great buddy to cry with.
1 day ago