I’m fine, really. No seriously, the crying fits? No biggie. Thinking my babies don’t like me? Normal right? RIGHT? Not feeling like I can talk on the phone let alone leave my house? All party of it – okay, that just doesn’t seem to be a good state of being. But that’s how I felt yesterday. The night before I hadn’t slept the entire night going from baby to baby trying the swing, the bouncy seat, food but my babies seem to come alive at night. And neither of us (them or me) are happy at that hour. So by early morning I was watching Sesame Street through cloudy contact lenses – not by myself, my daughter was curled up next to me trying to talk me out of feeding the baby so I could hang out with her. I liked the attempt. One of the muppets, I don’t know his name but he’s sort of blue green in color – although, honestly, if you know me, you know I don’t see color. So I’m watching this muppet play the guitar and my mind starts pondering if the puppet is actually playing the guitar or if the guitar is in the background and it just seems like he’s actually playing it. Then I get a hold of myself and realize that I am sleep deprived and almost went off of Zoloft and Xanax cold turkey which would have been the worst idea on the planet if I expect to live through the next month. So, life is good.