:: I Pinched Myself But I Was Already Awake ::
A weird thing happened on Tuesday. Like ghost-faced bat weird.
Before leaving Columbus for home, I spent all of Tuesday's naps working on editing videos and making DVDs for the grandparents. We don't take a ton of videos of Evan -- he doesn't really do a lot yet -- but when we do hit the record button, we tend to let it go awhile, hoping to capture a cute moment or two among all the nothing. Really this means we have hours and hours (and hours) of video of Evan lying on the ground, Evan sticking out his tongue, Evan grabing his feet, and maybe 20 minutes of actual cute things.
Rule Number One: If even I find it boring, no one else wants to see it.
Rule Number Two: When I think two minutes of a particular video are cute, I probably only need to include thirty seconds to one minute of that.
I wouldn't even make videos for the grandparents if they lived nearby and saw him often. It's only because they only get their Evan fixes every month at most that I bother editing the videos down like so much sap into maple syrup.
So the weird thing was this: I saw a video of myself in a bathing suit, back from our trip to the indoor waterpark, when I was three months post-partum. And I liked it. I thought I looked great. I'm 8-10 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight, and almost daily I look down at my belly hanging over my belt buckles and think, I really need to get rid of this gut, but I saw this video and thought, Hmm. Maybe I'm OK. Maybe I don't care about the ten pounds.
It was weird. It freaked me out. It was like waking up and hearing a clock strike thirteen.
And of course now it's gone. I'm back to hating the gut. I wonder if I just need to watch that video everyday.
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One afternoon, I was in the backyard hanging the laundry when an old, tired-looking dog wandered into the yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home. But when I walked into the house, he followed me, sauntered down the hall and fell asleep in a corner. An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out. The next day he was back. He resumed his position in the hallway and slept for an hour.
This continued for several weeks. Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: "Every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap. "
The next day he arrived with a different note pinned to his collar: "He lives in a home with ten children - he's trying to catch up on his sleep."
I cried from laughter
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