I’m buying stock in Kleenex

When I was in college, the movie Dances With Wolves came out.  Kevin Costner’s Indian name was Dances with Wolves and Mary McDonnell’s was Stands with a Fist.  There were some other cool names in there — Two Socks, Wind in His Hair…

Everyone on the swim team ended up with their own Indian name, eventually. I can’t recall most of them, but I do remember there was one guy who was named Hung Like Tatanka.  I can’t say if that one was accurate or not, but I guess if you’re a dude, that’s a pretty awesome Indian name to have.

Anyway, mine was Cries A Lot.  I’ve always been a crier.  Happy, sad, tired, angry, depressed — whatever the emotion, you can bet that I will ultimately be crying as a result of it.

So the end-of-the-year parties/concerts/author’s day/what-I-liked-best-about-kindergarten presentations have really gotten the waterworks going.

Yesterday at Number 4’s kindergarten party, I found out that Number 3’s teacher was being transferred to a different school in the district.  She’s been teaching 1st grade in the same school for 35 years.  35 years!!!  I thought it was a pretty shitty thing to do.  I really loved her for Number 3.  So I poked my head into her room to just thank her and tell her I was sorry she was being shipped out.

And like a complete lunatic, I started bawling and blubbering, almost hyperventilating.  I couldn’t even talk.

What the f#*! is wrong with me?

Usually it’s the kids who embarrass me, but this time I totally did it to myself.

I might need to change my name to Needs Medication.