Holiday Sap

I find myself thinking in third person a lot lately. It's all because of Facebook. For those of you who don't know anything about Facebook (where have you been?), it's a networking site basically. For me, it allows me to keep up with people I wouldn't normally be in contact with since life gets busy and crazy and people tend to drift in and out of my life. But with Facebook, I know where these people are, or at least how to send them a message. Some of the people I haven't seen in a decade or more, so it's nice to see what they're up to. I don't mean to turn this post into an advertisement for Facebook, I just wanted to explain that a little bit.

Another part of Facebook, that has a little more to do with the point of my post, is the Status; there's a text bar next to my name on my front page that asks, What are you doing right now? I can write whatever I want in there, but it has to be in third person because after I click post, it will read something like the following: Heather is tired. Or, Heather thinks snow is pretty. Or whatever I type in there.

I only update my status every couple days or so, but throughout the day almost every day, I find myself thinking of things to write in the status bar. Last night as I was doing dishes, a bunch of different things floated around in my brain:

Heather owns the loudest cat in the world. Her cat is the epitome of [whatever the antonym for stealth is].

Heather's knuckles have taken a beating from dishes, household chores and winter in general.

Heather had a lot of fun making snowflakes with her boys this evening.

Heather is tired of thinking in the third person.

Heather thinks housework should be included somewhere in the definition of insanity (you know, the one that says 'Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results').

Heather hates the feeling of being overdue for a really good cry.

That last one is the main reason for the post. It bugs me because there is no logic or reason to crying at this point in my life; things are going well. I'm all sorts of blessed (and that makes me want to cry). It's such a happy time of year for us (that makes me want to cry), but not for others (that makes me want to cry, too).

Yesterday was the Christmas program at church. A gal and her five year old daughter sang a beautiful song about the story of Christ's life (it made me want to cry).

My friend Marissa had a beautiful baby boy last week. I read all about him on her blog. He's so sweet. (And, of course, it made me want to cry.)

Drew and Owen have been watching Christmas episodes of their favorite cartoons. Wubbzy helps Santa deliver the Christmas presents for everyone in Wuzzleburg and Santa give Wubbzy a special gift that turns out to be the exact thing Wubbzy had been looking for to give to his friend Daizy. (I got all teary-eyed). Little Bill's great grandma was stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve so Little Bill and his siblings wrote a letter to Santa asking him to bring her back for Christmas. She shows up Christmas morning having "gotten a ride with someone who was headed her way." (Teared up some more.)

And has anyone seen the Pampers commercial? The lady singing "Silent Night" and the pictures of all the little babies sleeping almost sends me over the edge every time.

Last night as I was doing dishes, I felt like I wanted to cry again. This to me makes more sense; housework is like having teeth pulled without anesthetics.

I felt quite a bit better this morning, so I'm attributing most of my emotional distress to fatigue. And I'll probably blame some of it on hormones, just because, as a female, I can do that.