I feel happy... which is a big deal... for me.

Whew.

This week, I did some minor alterations on my wedding dress, so that my brand new sister-in-law can wear it this weekend.

I scrubbed marks out of the train of the dress.

I baked a cake, which is supposed to be a surprise. It was this one, except you better believe I made that sucker from scratch, and used Trader Joe's cookies and whipped topping, which has no hydrogenated oils.

We made three ghosts for our party.

I finally got around to planting my fall kale seeds, and little baby sprouts are showing their faces to the world.

I feel like I have a total handle on things, at the moment.  I can say this, because a few few months ago, I felt like I was totally losing it, at all times.  I feel good.  Well, I feel as good as I can, which is probably pretty good, in a global sense.

Maybe it's just because it's the end of summer and everything is beautiful.  The sky is otherworldly with it's clear, clear blue, the leaves are changing and creepy witches, skeletons and ghosts are popping up everywhere.  Maybe it's because we saw a pile of pumpkins, each one weighing more than my children combined.  Maybe it's the bumpy little gourd that Louise has adopted as her baby, even taking it to bed with her at night.

School is back in session.  Our days have a semblance of scheduling and purpose.  It's not one hundred degrees outside.  My sister and nephew are moving to the city to be near us.  I'm starting to think about Christmas.

I don't know what is different, or if anything is different.  I think that getting off of Zoloft after taking it for two years kind of knocked me down into a ditch.  I also think that my girls are just growing up, and as much as I coo over tiny babies, as much as I feel like I'm glimpsing god when I look into the face of a newborn... the truth is that having a small baby makes me kind of nuts.  It makes everybody nuts, but it makes me really fucking like... over the moon, balls out crazy to be run ragged, that way.

Louise is two, and Scouty is five, and they are so amazing together.  They play for hours and hours, and they're so sweet and funny and kind to one another.  We're potty training and doing homework and making art projects together, just the three of us.  They are both hilarious and easy to be around, even when I can't find somebody's other shoe, or Louisey pees her pants right as we were headed out the door.  It just isn't like... that big of a deal, anymore.  I think that I can probably see the end of it, and that makes a lot of different.

The hardest time of my life was having my first baby, being sleepless and sore and old and worn out, and having NO IDEA if parenting ever got easier.  I panicked all the time, and felt like my life would be nothing but panic for the rest of our lives together.  Now that I know that things change, I can see them changing.  Especially right this moment.  My baby is becoming a kid.  She's funny and smart and she has things that she likes and doesn't like.  She makes little squeaky voices for her stuffed animals and wants to be just like her big sister.  She's not a baby, anymore.  I can take my eyes off of her for more than a second.

That's probably a big relief, don't you think?

Things are going okay.  I've been writing about teenagers and love.  We took a walk today and found some chestnuts.  We're going to another wedding this weekend.  I have some cute little pie pumpkins sitting on my counter top.  Everything has been really, very nice.

How's that, coming from me?




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