I don't suppose anyone is particularly happy to say that they're crazy, although, as far as I can tell, the few unfortunate people who aren't crazy tend to run on the boring side. That said, of the many crazy mothers I know, who in the post partum whirl of life changes and hormonal side-effects have gone a little kooky, few of us wouldn't happily shed the madness for a boring afternoon or two.
After my daughter was born, I was able to come up with some truly crazy post partum anxiety induced forms of craziness that included a mortal terror of Tsunami (while vacationing on Nantucket), the conviction that a plane would fall on my head (as we live along the army base's flight path), griping fear that I would die of the Swine flu (never did worry about my children), and certainty that my ongoing heartburn could be none other than a heart attack (only about 400 times or every time I experienced it).
What is happy is that I am not alone. Mothers everywhere are telling me how crazy they are. Just what does happen when you pop out a kid? Luckily, I was saved from the post partum depression that is all the rage these days, but the anxiety is not a lesser problem, it's just much more funny.
What I most appreciate, since I have been teaching yoga for about a decade and practicing much longer, is when my doctors suggest I do some yoga.
As one of my dearest, wisest yoga teachers said to me once: "I teach all the time because I need this stuff more than anyone else."
At any rate, I would love to bond with all crazy mothers everywhere. Surely there is strength in numbers. In the meantime, please feel free to reassure me that I will not have an airplane land on my house.