Jesus. And, AND, one of the stories was Mary Chapin Carpenter's Halley Came to Jackson, complete with sing-a-long, which is a very sweet song that starts with a dad taking his newborn out on the porch to see Halley's comet. I actually almost left. But I called on all my stoic Germanity and soldiered through. But good lord, people. A few unfun moments there.
Now, listen. I'm not a constant ball of anxiety over encountering infants. I have no problems with babies. I love hanging out with my friends' drooly little guys, but there was something about seeing so many together like that, especially the girls in their cute frigging outfits, doing all that normal baby stuff.
It's hitting harder today than yesterday. It's had time to stew and fester, plus Sarah's not here to distract me (which, partly bummer, partly THANK GOD because for the last 36 hours everything I've said to her has been WRONG YOU CAN'T SAY THAT TO ME I DIDN'T TALK TO YOU).
And it's snowing and it's too early to start gardening anyway. So I need a new craft. Obviously. Something I have to focus on to figure out. Something I don't need a lot of stuff to do. Hmm. Anyone want to teach me to handsew? Or embroider? Maybe I should try cross-stitch.
What, I should actually use some of the stuff I've already got? Stupid conscience. Go bug someone else.