Crying

I am a generally happy, contented person- even more so with a new baby. Nothing fills me up with quite as much peace and joy as a sweaty boy sleeping on my chest with his sweet, milky breath on my neck.
So please don't read this post and feel needlessly worried about me.
I'm not struggling with post-part in depression or the baby blues.
I just cry a lot.

Even when I am not pregnant or nursing, I cry a lot.
I cry when things are beautiful. When I read picture books to my boys, during most movies, and rereading journals. I cry at the first snowfall of winter, singing hymns at church, praying before bed, reading poetry in the springtime.
I cry when I am frustrated, too. When my feelings are hurt, when I'm feeling insufficient, when my husband travels for days at a time, when my kids won't stop whining.
I'm a sensitive soul (though I seem thick-skinned),* and I am easily and frequently moved to tears.
And when I am tired, those tears flow all the more freely.
I've been crying a lot lately.

When August burped and gagged on his spit up, I cried because I was so worried he'd choke.

When I stood up and cracked the top of my head on an open cupboard, I bawled for so long and so hard that I stumbled around shutting the windows so the neighbors wouldn't hear me and think something was really wrong.

When I looked up in the middle of the night, and saw Travis' silhouette unexpectedly framed in the bedroom door- I had to hand the baby to him so I could lie down on the bed and cry for ten minutes because I'd been so startled.

And a few days ago, when I brought August to Travis and asked him to hold him so I could sleep, Travis' response was "Stop. Just go lie down and don't start crying."

So if you were wondering exactly how tired I am: I am so tired that everything makes me weep uncontrollably for a quarter of an hour at a time.

I think my baby has an alarm clock that goes off exactly two hours and forty minutes after his last feeding.
When that alarm goes off, he starts punching the air and grunting.
And if he isn't eating exactly three hours after his last feeding- he begins to squall, on the hour.
He's very prompt.
He'll probably be a natural percussionist. **
But I wish he'd go a little longer between nursings in the night, because I'll probably start crying during the boys' episodes of The Magic School Bus next (I already cry during Little Bear, but that is definitely more acceptable.)

Isn't it funny how we forget these things? I forgot what it was like to be up in the middle of the night with a newborn.
Although, to be fair, I am about 100 times more rested than I was three years ago with two babies. In fact, compared to then - I am getting lots of sleep and never, ever cry!
Seriously. Twins were are exhausting.

*Name that movie! Just kidding. You don't have to comment and say. We all know it. We all know you know it.
** Name that tv show! I'll be much more impressed if you know what this joke is from.