I couldn't help myself. I broke down and cried yesterday. A good cry that made my eyes burn and my nose run. I was reading Lance Armstrong's "It's Not About the Bike"- an amazing book that my husband has urged me to read for years - and hearing his story, how he fought for his life, was supposed to lift me up and normally it would have. It was after all, a touching book about beating the odds and the miracles that are out there in the world. Instead, I couldn't help but think about how fleeting life is. How scary it is. I continued to read it and I was in awe of Lance Armstrong's recovery, of his will and his courage, but I was also shaken by his journey.
I feel so vulnerable after having a baby as if I am a sitting duck. I feel as if the stakes have never been so high. I adore my little monkey so much, I want to do everything in my power to protect him, be there for him. It scares me to think of anything separating us. I can feel the fear radiating throughout my body.
Things are easier for me when I'm surrounded by people. I went to parent's house today for a birthday celebration and being around my parents and my three sisters felt so amazingly safe. I was happy there. I really laughed. It's a wonderful feeling to laugh after being in a state of anxiety. You enjoy it more, you really savour it. I love to laugh. I love a good hardy one, when you can't breathe and tears are gushing. TMI probably, but there are times when I have laughed so hard that I've basically peed myself a bit. Those are the best. Disgusting, but the best.
My sisters and I remembered a Mediterranean cruise the whole family went on twelve years ago, when I was just 18. The four of us were crammed into one ridiculously tiny bedroom with no windows and with what appeared to be two very small single beds. This intrigued us being four sisters. We soon realized there were upper beds above the lower ones that unfolded from the wall. My younger sister Tanya noted if you dropped the soap in the shower and bent down to pick it up your ass would literally be nestling on the sink. My parents on the other hand had a very luxurious suite with an amazing view on the opposite end of the boat and they couldn't understand what the problem was with ours. We reminisced about almost missing the boat at one port and sprinting to catch it, only to realize we weren't even late. About how my other sister Kara and I were always looking for the "disco" the entire trip, only to find it on our very last night on our way to a movie. We ended up drinking beers with a bunch of newlyweds. How my dad practically scaled a small cliff in Monoco to get my mom's handbag that she dropped. How the staff often referred to us as 'the Spice Girls' and how one time while getting off a bus in Barcelona, we heard a mysterious voice amongst the crowd say 'bye Spice Girls'. We explored Rome, Spain, France and Monaco together. My first time in Europe. It was by far one of my favourite vacations.
So while at my parents, I was on the computer looking at this blog and my dad asked what I was doing and accused me of googling diseases. I laughed. I wasn't. It's a good feeling to know that people have your back.
I love my family.
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