I've always been a sensitive person. My earliest memories of school are of feeling shy and out of place and not fitting in. I wasn't athletic. I wasn't outgoing. My preferred activities were solitary or something that could be done within a small circle of friends. Reading, writing, listening to music, watching TV or some sort of craft.
I get my sensitivity from my father. That man will cry at the drop of a pin. He passed this trait along to me. I cry over commercials. Have you ever seen the Hallmark commercial with the husband and wife? Wife walks in, husband is hanging up the phone, turns to his wife and says, "The adoption agency needs us to come down there again.". The wife says, "Again. We've already filled out so much paperwork." or something to that effect. The husband hands his wife a card and it's something about mothers. She looks up at him and he says "It's a boy." with tears in his eyes. I'm a puddle by then. We're talking full blown tears, sniffling and at times sobbing (depending on the time of the month). I'll refrain from telling you how I cry over the Father of the Year episode of the Brady Bunch. Which I've probably seen hundreds of times in my life.
It's ridiculous really, but it's who I am. My husband and my kids love to tease me about my ability to cry with no effort whatsoever and with little control over it. Nice, huh? Yeah they can be a bunch of jerks sometimes but they're mine and I love them. At least I love my kids. My husband? Hmph. Right about now he's right there at the top of my shit list. I suppose I still love him. Though he is pushing his luck. (Which may be his intention for all I know.)
I love the show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Now granted part of that love is I have a thing for Ty Pennington. However, I also love the concept of the show. Seeing these families living with things I couldn't dream of living through reminds me of how much I DO have to be thankful for. I'm a blubbering mess while watching it though. Tissues at the ready. Some episodes truly touch me. After those shows I have an intense need to look in on my children. And hold them. To remind myself that I am blessed. That it COULD be worse.