Making Amends

How's this for neurotic? Last night when I was up nursing K (second feeding of three, so cut me a little slack on my grammar/spelling/coherency--is that even a word?), I started going back over my "letting go" posts in my head. Was it really letting me go? Because that sounds like I'm inviting the postpartum spare tire around my midsection to take up permanent residence. But letting it go? Didn't I decide that was a too-vague cop-out? Or perhaps it's letting it go in spite of me. Then it dawns on me. I'm having a debate about the semantics of whatever should go between the words letting and go. I'm obviously missing the point.

Which brings me to notice that I seem to have been on a negative bent the past few days. Lest I leave you thinking that I'm a cup-half-empty kind of girl, and before I drive the few people that actually read this blog off to greener pastures, here's a list of ten things I love about my life:

• I can kiss a baby's head any time I want to (and I do, often)
• Singing in the car, off-key and loudly, is considered good entertainment
• I never have to wear real shoes (hence my flip-flop tan)
• Good culinary technique involves combining Goldfish and Bunny-O's
• It's okay if I avoid things like laundry and dishes because I was too busy "playing"
• I never have to feel bad for spilling things in the (already dirty) car
• People are impressed when my clothes are clean and well-matched because they generally expect neither
• Sitting down at the end of the day feels so good
• Tickling is highly encouraged
• When two little people need anything at all, they think I'm the answer. How misled, but cool anyway.