Randy and Shari's World

OK, so Serena is 4 1/2 weeks old now, and is currently napping (though if this doesn't end up getting posted until she is in kindergarten, you will know that she woke up before I finished writing it).  Micah is napping (or at least confined to his bed in a state of contentment) now too, so I am down here in the basement, updating my blog, so that people such as James, do not become very angry with me.  So, HI JAMES!! 

 So since I haven't written in so long, the pressure is on to do something really neat and all.  But here's the problem: I'm really kinda tired and stressed and Lilly and Rose are up to something (Lilly and Rose are the gals that feed Serena, in order to keep things tasteful here on this family friendly blog) that is not entirely pleasant, we hate our really expensive mattress, we owe $411 in taxes (so far) and Toby peed in the basement the other day.  Hey, do you think the IRS will take a beautiful, soft gray cat instead of US currency??

So those, in a nutshell, are the bad things.  The good things, which really are too numerous to list, are of course our lovely baby girl, our hilarious little boy, my wonderful (and I mean WONDERFUL!) husband, fabulous friends and family members who have taken it upon themselves to feed us, visit us, lavish cute pink gifts upon us, etc.  Anyway, you get my point.  We are very happy and blessed.

 So, how comes sometimes I'm in tears and feel like the whole world is big and scary and that Lilly and Rose are somehow in charge of the whole rest of my body and that I'll never get a good night's sleep, ever, and that maybe even my laid-back wonderful Knight in Shining Flannel will come to a point of committing me to some kind of home "Don't worry dear, you'll LOVE it here!  They'll take great care of you…"

I can only hope it's the whole hormone thing.  Because, though it's kind of fun to have no control over my emotions, it is also rather difficult for someone like me who tends to thrive on knowing what's going on and what's gonna happen next.  Like, maybe it'd be better if there could be a memo on my night table that I could look at each morning that would summarize my hormonal moods for that day.  So I could know that the morning would be tearful (and Randy would have to hug me consolingly and then quickly scamper out the door to work before I try to talk him into working from home in case I "can't handle things"), but that by lunch I would be bouncing off the walls with all kinds of happiness oozing from every available orifice (a whole entire letdown of levity and joy!!) and feeling like the luckiest person ever invented.  But then I could be forewarned that by dinner the tears would be back and my mind would be predicting all kinds of horrid things that might happen ("Yeah, well Randy, we don't know for SURE that Lilly doesn't have some kind of nasty infection that would make her turn inside out and start secreting green pus with orange highlights, and then how would Serena eat?")  I mean, it would be helpful to know these things.  I could show the memo to Randy so he could be ready to handle me. 

Because as it is right now, I can only imagine what his mind does when he's sitting peacefully at his desk at work and he sees my name on the caller ID.  He must think, "OK, what kind of woman is calling me this hour?  Is it the happy, bouncy one that used to skip the halls in high school singing some ridiculous song?  Is it the cranky, sleep-deprived one who is overly concerned with the functions of her various body parts?  Or is it actually Micah calling to tell me that some very nice people in white coats just came and borrowed Mommy for a while, and could Daddy please come home to play with him since Mommy is gone?"  Since he doesn't know until he answers, he probably has to figure out a way to say "Hello?" that would be appropriate for any of the above versions of me that might be calling.  You know, happy to hear from me, but not overly joyous; Sympathetic, but not pathetic; Relaxed at his place of employment, but not too relieved to not be anywhere near my actual, physical self.  That sort of thing.

The thing is, that I usually can recognize when my moods are changing, and so I do try to warn him: "I'm having a moment right now, so just hug me (but gently, because OWW, they hurt!!), and don't pay too close attention to the things I'm venting about because tomorrow I will think those same exact things are just peachy, OK?"

I honestly don't know where I'm going with this post and I'm starting to get REALLY self-conscious about it (Like you, the poor reader, are probably saying, "It took you until NOW to realize that you don't know where you're going with this??!!").

I just want you to know that I do think about blogging a lot.  I even come up with topics, as I'm unloading the dishwasher, putting the Nuk back in Serena's mouth, eating magnetic number "Dasanya" that Micah cooked for me, and thinking about how I can manage to eat breakfast, get dressed, and put the laundry in the dryer before either kid will notice my absence.  But I don't actually write the topic ideas down (I mean, why NOT?  It's not like I'm doing anything ELSE!!) and I'm too tired and confused to remember any of them.  Which leads to, as my sister put it once, layers and layers of guilt.  Which my hormones pick up on and run an entire marathon with ("Hey Shari, if you don't blog today, everyone in the whole family will be so disappointed in your lack of accomplishment that they might not even invite you to the next holiday gathering and you'll be all alone – with only Lilly and Rose to keep you company, ha ha ha!!")

But now I blogged!  OH, but what if you guys don't LIKE the blog?  Then maybe it would have been better if I hadn't blogged at all!  Possible guilt is setting in (or hovering in a tentative manner, not being sure whether to actually set in yet).

 OK, well I am actually a teensy bit worried that I gave the impression that I truly am a mental case greater than that which has ever been conceived.  So let me just tell you that I really am as fine as I ever was (leave that to your discretion as to how concerned that should make you!) and that deep down, I think my hormones are pretty sporting guys and gals, and who knows, I may even miss them when, in the next few weeks (hopefully?) they calm down a bit!