The hangover

My husband once remarked that having children is like waking up with a hangover for five solid years. That might be a bit extreme, but as I look in the mirror today I have to admit that I have all the signs. The red eyes, the headache, the vaguely queasy feeling, and I only had two well spaced glasses of wine last night at dinner. Yes, I seem to be suffering from the from the punch drunk delirium of parenting. My two kids are enough, but add in two more and you've got yourself a kegger.

One of my dearest friends has been here this week with her two gorgeous children. She arrived the day my mother in law went home and left just a few hours ago. With four children under the age of seven running around things have been a little crazy, but my girlfriend and I had a great time talking over their tousled heads, picking up the same thread of conversation a hundred times, as the kids took turns asking us for juice or snacks or toys or whatever. After tucking them all in to bed, we then managed to stay up a little too late, giddy with the feeling that comes from an uninterrupted sentence. As I type this, I have that exhausted feeling that makes your fingers feel a little numb and tingly and I have to keep rereading every sentence twice.

It will be our turn to invade their territory this summer because the kids and I are planning an extended stay at their urban Chicago pad. We won't be able to see them again until late July, but that's probably okay.

It might take me that long to recover from my "hangover" anyway.