Today: State of the Union.
My fellow Americans (and other people too, obvi),
I missed President Obama’s final State of the Union last night. I was wide awake, and just feet from the television, but was preoccupied by one event (that sounds nicer than crisis) after the next, most of which involved diapers.
On one hand, I’m disappointed because I really wanted to watch it. I wanted to see Dr. Hamo seated with the First Lady. I wanted to pretend I was high-fiving Vice President Biden every time President Obama said something great. I wanted to watch it so I had something normal to talk about today, in case I was lucky enough to encounter another human over the age of two.
But I didn’t watch the State of the Union, because I was taking stock of our own union and serving as Commander and Chief of “No, I don’t think we’ll see Santa at exercise class.” (Side note: I will be *fingers crossed* cleared to work out after my postpartum checkup on Thursday. In the meantime, I need to come up with something cooler and less geriatric to call it than “exercise class.”)
I was folding enough onesies to clothe a small nation (small, because its citizens would need to fit into size 3-6 months), and cleaning up enough cereal (like… how on Earth did it travel from the kitchen and end up in the sofa) to feed an army.
If our condo were a country, it would be called something like The Land of Unfinished Projects. Or, Island of Perpetual Laundry. Or, What Is That Smell?
I would be in charge, not because I’m especially capable, but because I am always awake… And I was the only one who voted when I held an election at 3:45 this morning (while writing this post on the Notes app of my iPhone…). Being awake seems like a good qualification for being in charge. Or a decent start, at least.
And in my State of the Union address, I’d say this: Things are kind of wild right now, but they’re bound to level out. In the meantime, we’re doing okay. Some days are more okay than others. I can only hope my children and husband go to bed every night knowing just how loved they are.
And I’m increasingly hopeful about tomorrow and a month from now and a year from now. But I don’t want to look too far ahead, because I cry when Grace and Nick outgrow their tiny pajamas… so I can only imagine how I’ll feel when they can read or drive or go to college or whatever. That’s just too much right now. Then again, 18 years from now, I hope to be averaging more than 3 hours of sleep a night.
It may take us 2 hours to leave the condo for a 15 minute trip to the library, and I sometimes forget to shower, and I’m not sure when this bone-deep exhaustion will pass… but I feel lucky and grateful and happy… all good (emotional) states to occupy.
Also On Tap for Today:
- You can find video of the full (actual, real, American) State of the Union here
- Introducing our five-week-old son to my ninety-six year old aunt
- Meet the First Lady’s State of the Union guests
What would your State of the Union address sound like?
