Normal?

"Great news Megan, everything seems to be back to normal"...as I sit undressed from the waist down (I chose to leave my gray socks on- they are clean) nodding and grinning and thinking.. Oooohhhh, Celest..I beg to differ..things are faaaaaar from fucking normal...

At the postpartum check this should be reworded as "Great news, Megan, anatomically things appear to be back to pregestational size.."

Normal is not a word I would apply to life at 9 Lemont Lane right now. Transition, yes. Normal, no. Or perhaps the new normal in a world w/ broken sleep, having to use both hands to count the number of bodily fluids you might be wearing at any given time and reserving creative thinking for the purpose of devising the best way to remove foreign, non flushable items from the toilet bowl. Reminding me again, having them is optional..dealing with them is mandatory (see yesterday's post).

And just when you need it the most, you get a smile. Nature's way of reminding us that it's worth it. Even if the smile is seen most often in response to the word 'no'. If you have never heard me say no..give a call, apparently it is hysterical.