I swear to myself, every year, this will be the funkless year. Oh! Not a year without the good kinda funk, the one ya’ gotta have. No the bad kinda funk, “the mean reds” to quote Holly Golightly, the days of the spaced out stare and unwashed hair. I usually hit it sometime in December, but I guess I missed it having been on vacation or something. My funk caught up with me in a BIG way after Sadie broke her arm.
Part of it is that both girls are going through some MAJOR brain growth. MAJOR brain growth means awesome new skills, but while their sweet little cortexes are growing new synapses, the higher brain functions are busy and they operate on their emotional brain alone. Which means we have a few holy terrors in our house. It’s bad enough when one of them does it, but DUDE! Two ladies operating without reason, judgment, and impulse control + a mama in a funk= CRAZY TIMES! Poor Brett, right? He is helping us all, but he is stuck in a depression that can only be healed by universal healthcare with a public option, so we are all royally screwed.
The fact that I can sit and write this means I am coming out of the funky stuff. Let me be clear, this isn’t the kind of blues where I sit under the covers in bed. I am a high functioning funky lady. My house has been cleaner than ever, I have been playing with the kids, I just have felt off. The girls are still wacky, but Olive’s vocabulary has exploded. Every morning we wake up to find she has acquired at least five new words to express herself. Sadie is reading! READING! So the brain development is excellent, it’s just the hell we have to go through to get there.
Maybe my funk is just the storm before the growth spurt! Maybe I will have a break through any moment? I will be sure to let you know if that happens.
