Crazy

Having a new baby can be stressful. As Garrison seems to be over his colic, I can now begin writing about it with a sense of humor.

In June, my brother was on leave from his Afghanistan deployment. I had had company for about 3 solid weeks since Garrison’s birth. Garrison was up every hour, on the hour at night. It was like some magnificently designed torture program. During the day, we were out doing activities; at night, I was awake breastfeeding. I was exhausted.

So in the middle of a conversation with John, I had a complete meltdown. I could not, for the life of me, stop laughing. I laughed until I cried. Then I cried. Then I laughed some more.

My brother, a battle-hardened warrior with two deployments under his belt, was very worried, and slightly uncomfortable.

That next week, I had my 8-week check-up. My doctor asked if I was feeling depressed. I said no, and I really wasn’t. Overwhelmed does not necessarily equal depressed. Still, after some conversation, she verified I really didn't need meds. I said no, and almost started laughing manically again. In hindsight, perhaps a bit of medication would have been helpful.

Still, for the last four weeks I have, apparently had ‘a grin that sends sane men scampering into trees’. And it allows me a surprising amount a freedom. I suppose I’ll have to return to the world of the sane here shortly; still, I'll miss being a little crazy.

Upon further reflection, with two kids I’ll never actually return to the world of the sane. Perhaps living in crazy is the new normal.