Kicked-in-the-face Humble

This post is intended to be a response to my last post, and a commentary on the commentary of others who chose to comment on my own less than cheery commentary. Get it?

I am truly humbled by the outpouring of encouraging words, sharing of deeply personal struggles, and the general concern for my mental (and physical) welfare that so many who read this blog showed in my last post. I received many a comment, email, Facebook message, and phone call regarding the mite of personal information I divulged about my prolonged sickness. Thank you, everyone, for sharing a little bit of your day to make mine better. I can't believe I know so many good people - how lucky am I!

I must reassure my caring public, however, that I am doing just fine - nay, better than fine: I feel normal! If "normal" seems like an underwhelming adjective to use, please remember that three years of "sick" followed by a fantastic onslaught of "normal" equals more than I could ask for. I used to get small doses of "normal" for a few weeks (and a whole 9 months of pregnancy) followed by months of yuck. I am so blessed to be on the mend, and so excited for the opportunities I can now participate in as a fun young mommy to the busiest and most darling child two adoring parents could ever hope for!

If I shared too much or caused my dear friends and family to think that my self-esteem was suffering, please don't think so. I just had an introspective day, and we all know that feeling ill makes everything look more bleak than it really is. I feel pretty good about myself as a wife and mother, but there are always always going to be things I can do better at. That day just happened to be a time in which my laundry list was slightly more lengthy than usual and the items on it were more pressing (get it? Pressing? Laundry? Wow, I'm back!). I may have made my more mellow self seem like an unwanted change, but if a level of maturity has reached me that has caused a mellowing, who am I to revert back to the hyperactivity of youth? I understand maturity, but not feeling well made me rather walking corpse-like at times. In the next few weeks I hope to leave the bad sort of mellowing behind in favor of returning to the random fun-ness that used to characterize my personality - only this time I'm sure it will be peppered with the wisdom of the post-college years (if any has seeped through, that is). Side note: Reed - my brother - turned 17 last week so I am suddenly feeling old. Somebody get me a walker and Dulcolax.

Here's to the fun times to come in which I am not lying on the couch watching my baby run around, but am the cause of his running at a fever pace across the room and away from the mommy monster!