Apparently, my body has not got the memo that I am not pregnant. Seems odd it wouldn't remember pushing out a 9 lb 3 ounce baby about 3 months ago....
But, my body insists on storing fat, especially in the front, and I have been crying over some dumb things (you know, occasions where only overly-emotional or pregnant women would tear up). At church on Sunday I was tearing up during confirmation. You know, the long church service where most non-hormonal people would be checking their watches annoyed at the extended service. I didn't know the name of a single kid up there, but I was wiping tears out of my eyes. Look them, all grown up, getting confirmed.
Yesterday, Claire started summer school. Open the floodgates.
At naptime, Macy was taking off her sandals to get into her bed. I was holding Piper above her. Piper puked on her hair and arm. I thought it was hilarious. I bust into Claire's room to tell Bob about it. He said it was not funny but rather gross. Apparently, I am a stark raving mad lunatic because I am laughing like a hyena. Bob is looking at me like I am certifiable for interrupting his story for that nugget.
Seriously, this can not be the new me. This emotional crap should wear off after 3 months, though, right?