We call them "Mood Swings"

It was another rough night. Eden is just going through a time, and in the bounds of this living space, there comes a point of crying it out that is too much for the rest of us to bear. Or sleep through. I was up several times with her last night, and then, when Boom Boom had woken up early to sneak out for a run, Madee woke up and cried and cried and cried and seriously I am in a hurricane of whining and crying lately.

And that is a lot of my daily existence.

And some times are harder than others. Because sometimes I just don't have the energy to attack a mountain of whining and crying and clouds and cold. Sometimes I just don't know how we are going to make it through the day.

And then I have some coffee. Take my Prozac. Hop on Twitter.

Read a little from this guy's website. Cry a little.

Hug my babies. Real hard.

And find that strength that isn't in me, but is just from somewhere else.

I pack a lunch, get the girls fed and dressed, and take them out in the world to show them things, even if we are just driving by them and pointing from the window as rain beats down on the truck.

It isn't easy to be the Mom.

But I also know that it isn't easy being them either, being Eden, dealing with the mouth pain, not being able to help herself to things she cannot reach, not being able to say what she already means. wanting everything that Madee has, not being able to walk yet, because she really wants to.

And it also isn't easy being Madee, being in this swirl of emotion and new reaches of awareness that just make everything confusing and strange and uncomfortable. Feeling out of control of things and events, but understanding more and more that she could control these things, or that she will at some point. Being told "NO!" all the time. Being thrust into sharing everything - her mom and dad, her toys, her dogs, her space, her time, her food, at a time when she is just discovering ownership and independence and individuality, yet is still vulnerable to feeling like or wanting to be a baby again.

And Boom Boom? Well it isn't easy being him either. I won't get into why, because he is old enough to tell you himself, but he is tired and stressed and dealing with his own things right now.

Oh, and there I go again avoiding talking about myself. I guess I am not in the best place right now. I don't want to talk about it, I just want out. Out of the funk, out of the fog from being so tired, out of the emotion that is 3 females taking turns crying in our house. And I don't want to talk about it because I hate to admit weakness. It is like once I do, things start getting worse and the crap starts to pile on to test just how much I can carry before I fall down. And it's little things.

It's all little things! (well, except the lack of sleep!) but seriously, things are looking up in so many realms that I should be enjoying those developments (moving to FL, upgrading my blog) and I just want to cry because Madee is helping herself to the refrigerator YET AGAIN for what is like her 4 or 5th yogurt in 24 hours, despite the fact that ask her not to help herself, despite the fact that I feed her in the morning, despite the fact that now I'm crying because I feel like I must not feed my GIGANTIC GODZILLA children enough.

So here goes my pep talk, welcome one and all, seriously, if you ever need a pep talk COME TO ME I am like a SUNSHINE ENEMA.

***********************************

I have a dream. And in my dream, my new BFF from twitter, who only lives 2 hours away, and I jump a plane for Vegas, buy gorgeous new clothes and go dancing and drinking and hustling gambling winnings from old bald men for MORE GORGEOUS CLOTHES and then end up renting Segways and chucking hot dogs at at the porn card flickers while drinking vodka tonics and chanting "Big Freaking Potato" all night. Then we go into a tattoo parlor and get a tramp stamp of loaded potatoes with bacon and cheese and then run by the chapel to become "blood sisters" in a ceremony presided by a big lady Elvis. Old Bloated Elvis, not the cute one.

And then we go bet all the rest of our money on Keno while eating chicken fried steak and drunk dialing everybody in our cell phone lists and then we win a BAZILLION dollars and BUY BLOGHER and we are the QUEENS OF THE BLOGOSPHERE and we run around arm in arm singing that "Schlameel Schlamozzle" song from Laverne and Shirley.

And now I've found it. I have my strength to make this a wonderful day.

All because of my new imaginary friend.

I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER NOW.

Alrighty kiddos! lets get out of the house!