I regularly have people tell me that they always see me smiling and laughing; that even when things are hard, I am usually cheery. And it’s true. And mostly involuntary. It’s because I have an informal rule that I think about a lot when I think about my attitude toward life. It goes thusly:
Laugh or cry, people. Laugh or cry.
And my implied answer to that is “laugh.” It is almost always the right decision. Although sometimes you do have to do both.
I’m cracking lately. I’ve been dropping balls right and left. So far nothing too important and nothing that can’t be made up, but it’s like my brain is a complete sieve. Honestly, if you make an appointment with me, you should definitely call me shortly before I should be leaving for said appointment to ensure that I remembered it. And then you should remind me where we’re supposed to meet.
Plus, if you sent me an important email and I haven’t gotten back to you, you should resend it because I KNOW it’s saved in my inbox and I plan to get back to it tonight, but sometimes “tonight” turns into “tomorrow night” turns into “the next night” turns into “if you ignore something long enough, eventually it becomes a moot point.”
Oh yeah, and if I owe you a writing assignment, I swear, it’s the next thing I’m doing. And if you’re my boss, I mean I’m doing my work next. Pinky swear.
Also? If you say something nice to me, I just may burst into tears for no discernible reason.
It’s true. I did it several times today at Jack’s school. I mean, there were reasons, but still. (I also did some laughing. ‘Cause I’m such a fucking buffoon.)
I decided to take some time today to not think about all of that and actually do some quality, fun parenting this afternoon. I’d promised to take Quinn to an open gym yesterday and had entirely forgotten. (See what I mean?) But I remembered this place that Jessica had mentioned on her site and decided to try it out.
We had so much fun. Quinn and I spent two hours together climbing, bouncing, doing puzzles, and laughing. Well, he did that and I mostly followed him around, but I did do some tickling and I also did a lot of laughing.
It was excellent therapy.
Plus, sometimes, given the company I keep, there isn’t even a contest between laugh and cry.
The answer is obvious.
Edited to add: I would like to state—equivocally, certainly, definitely, ABSOLUTELY—for the record that this is NOT pregnancy brain, thank you all very much. THAT will not be happening. Even if I have to move to a convent to ensure that it doesn’t.