Then I realized I was a walking (sitting) infomercial for the SNUGGIE. I experienced a moment that I myself had mocked as unrealistic. Yet there I was. Having a need for something not entirely unlike a Snuggie.
I felt shame. Yet that was nothing compared to what happened a mere two hours later.
I was sitting on the bathroom floor at Nora's request- to come hear the exciting story line she was reading- and was also listening to Susannah protest her first real nap of the day. Suddenly, I had an almost out-of-body experience; fueled by the buzzing of my children's voices, the questionable middle of the previous night's session of Life Questions, and the after-effects of way too much coffee. I leaned my head back against the bathroom door, closed my eyes, and marveled at how GOOD that felt.
The very next thing I knew, I was being nudged awake by an irate preschooler's foot, telling me that this was NOT "good behavior" and this was NOT "what we do." (I don't remember ever having had the Don't Sleep On The Bathroom Floor convo with her...but she has a mind like a steel trap. She'd know. Also, I had the niggling suspicion that perhaps I shouldn't be teaching her to sleep on the bathroom floor.)
So, yeah, the first two events were prime examples of my dorkiness (and potential poor circulation) and conditional narcolepsy. It wasn't a banner day in terms of self-image.
But then the craziest thing of all happened:
...Which is by far the wackiest thing that a human can do. Just- one day- stand up and start moving around like you hadn't spent the first 12 months of your life on hands and knees and bellies and occasional faces? And sure, I can't take too much credit for Susannah's motorin' about...but I can count it as something that upped the coolness factor of my day.
Which, let's be honest, was rather off the charts.