I wish I knew why the gray day brings me cascading, descending, like someone holding my head underwater, and the angst bubbles up like fizz in my tummy
why the gray day sags my face and I look like a sad clown, an old grumpy lady, hair sticking up like wires , nose wrinkled, lips on my chin.
The gray day crusts up my eyes and my shoulders slump to my hips, sliding, sinking, and I think how can my children recognize me. Gray days depress my voice and prevent my smiles and even my toes are depressed. I lay prostrate and wait for the sun.
Here is what the sun looks like:
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| Hello, Mommy. I am your sunshine, your only (except Benjamin, too) Sunshine, I make you happy when skies are gray! |
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| You'll never know, dear, how much I love you... |
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| And this little lovebug, too |
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| Still posing as he watches Elmo |
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| Some Mother's Day humoring of mom by sitting in silly little chairs and taking photos while staring into the sun. |
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| He's giving me the lowdown on the proper care of goats. he's so excited about his dissertation he is drooling. |
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| I just can't. This picture is so stinking cute. |
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| more stinking cuteness |
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| His joy and delight at the crowds' joy and delight. |
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| The accomplished grad and her littles. Plus Uncle. May is such an exciting time! |
With all the of the wonderfulness in the world, it seems silly to let a little grayness get in the way. Especially since the sun has shone every day since the day I started writing about gray days. Thankful for sunny Albuquerque. Thankful for sunny babies. Thankful for husband who doesn't up and leave when I am grumpy. He has the patience of a saint. The anti-depressant is helping, and every day is a little easier. Besides, there isn't anything better than summer with little kids. Kiddie pools, road trips, long walks in the early morning, and long naps in the hot afternoons. Its going to be amazing.
