Coming Clean in a Teacup, Final Volume

OK… so where was I? OH right. The thinking.

Have you ever had something on your mind that weighed so heavily, you drive somewhere and forgot how you got there? I’ve done this more than I would like to remember (or… forget?) I don’t think I remember how I got home that afternoon after visiting Charlotte Reynolds.

I wish I could say my visit to Charlotte “opened my eyes to how precious life is” or “made me cherish every moment on the earth.” Those things didn’t happen, at least not right away. I don't know what happened to me, but I knew right then something was different.

When a good day did roll around, it was good. When it was a bad day… it was BAD. I was a little nervous about the good days I had after Charlotte’s visit because I didn’t want to give them up. After the visit, miraculously, my nerves started to calm down. I felt more “together” than I had in months. I can’t explain it, but I know I had thoughts of “Ok… today is a good day. The bad ones will come back.” I didn’t want any more bad days. Ever.

Even more: I started sleeping in my own bed after weeks of sleeping on the sofa because I was scared to be away from JJ, who is now sleeping in his crib. I am more careful when I drive my car. I paid for the guy behind me in the toll booth line. I hold JJ closer than before.
I want to come home in the evenings; I want to get up in the morning. I don't care about the dirty dishes in the sink (at least until tomorrow.) I don't mind that I get woken up…well… for the most part. When my baby nuzzles under my chin for comfort, I now stop to relish the moment, rather than continue the hustle and bustle of what we were doing. Whatever it is, it can wait for the nuzzle to be finished. It is a dramatic change and I’m still sitting here wondering why.... and what the heck happened to me...

I visited my doctor this week and told her about my wild emotions, just to see what she would say. She didn’t seem surprised and said it was probably from the Depo Provera birth control shot I’d received shortly after JJ was born, which is wearing off now. She gave a few other random physical issues which may have caused, and subsequently cleared up, the problem, but I’m not sure I buy it. It’s just too coincidental.

Don’t get me wrong – yes, sometimes I still feel like throwing things. I still feel like I have no time in the day to do anything substantial. I still feel emotional, but it’s over the happy things in my life, not the horrible ones. But… oh well. I want to spend time in my house with my kid and husband rather than cleaning it. My child and husband are gifts to me. Why not enjoy them?

So you tell me, if you’re still reading this (and if you are, thank you): Was this sudden transformation a result of scientific theories, or the power of a young dying child? Was I called to go read to her because she needed me, or I needed her? Is it possible that she taught me both sides of being a mother – the "getting things done," and "the slowing things down?"

From all of this, I've resolved that my problems are small. Important, but small. My Grandma told me one time "if your problems turn out to be so small they can be washed away with the water in a teacup, then you are a very lucky person." All I need is the water from a teacup... with a couple of refills! And I do feel lucky. Very much so.

So… *looks around the room* Let’s move on to that book I was talking about…

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