cry me a river

I’ve been weepy. It’s the end of the school year, I’m scheduled to the edge of my capacity and I’ve gone to bed over-stimulated for the past three weeks. Honestly, I could tell you that I’m emotional and leave it at that. I remember being pregnant and crying at the holiday commercials for coca cola. But I no longer watch TV; no time. I can’t quite get a handle on the why of all the crying... Past emotional pregnancies pale in comparison. I told one child that I had a leaky tear duct. Is there a frequent crying club? I should be an honorary card-carrying member. My sister is enduring a really tricky pregnancy. She’s in my thoughts constantly. I’ve been attending end-of-the-year awards assemblies at multiple schools, and it has taken everything I can muster to keep from sniffling at awards given to children I don’t even know! My husband unknowingly deleted my Segullah essay. I returned to the computer to revise and it was gone. (Sob) He also handed out a punishment to one of our kids. The consequence was appropriate. There was no complaining or appeal for a lighter sentence. But I was the one who cried. The carpet was miraculously cleaned and floors washed by my extremely service-oriented sister. My daughter ran excitedly into the house to greet me after school and I had forgotten to lock the door--the contractor had pulled out rotted floor boards at that entry and wasn’t finished yet. She fell in up to her hip. Much limping ensued, and I was the one crying. If that wasn’t bad enough, it happened again to my poor unsuspecting nephew. Even the skies have been leaking. Three out of every four days in the last month have been rainy. To everything there is a season… It must be my season for weeping. Knowing that seasons come and then pass, I’m alright with the crying for now.