On losing and recovery.

Oh, hi KG. Remember when I sat so close to your warm-up that I could take THIS PICTURE of you with my camera? When I went to the Celtics game with my pal Kate last Friday, I was whisper-shrieking as we got closer to our seats, a mere nine rows from the court and less then twenty feet from the home team's bench. By the way, thank you, thank you, thank you, Kate.

Oh, hey, RayRay. Just practicing some free throws, right? Whatever. I'm right here, watching and hyperventilating about it. And pretty much every time he had the ball, I was all, "RayRay" really fast and quiet. But.

The Celtics lost. Ray Allen did not make a three-pointer, and I don't think he even shot one. All I wanted to do was yell, "For threeeee!" for RayRay so loud at the Garden, and it didn't happen. And, perhaps not coincidentally, I was sick all day Saturday and Sunday, with a Man Cold. Totally wiped out. And I couldn't even do the thing where I stick a scrap of tissue up my nose for some relief because when I tried, Rudy pointed and said, "Mommy. Tissue. Nose," and I felt embarrassed. Also, Marley gave me the squinty confused face she gives me when I'm being weird to her, and therefore, embarrassing.

But on Saturday morning, I brought Marley to dance class, so I still had it somewhat together at that point. Except, because I had just hustled to the grocery store and browned off some meat for the Crock Pot beforehand, I actually had to say, "Oh, it's me," when one of the other mothers muttered, "I smell bacon," to herself. Yeah, that's right. I smell like meat. At least my dinner's made, bitch.

Also on Saturday, Rudy was completely unironic in her white and pick track suit, looking like either a tiny coach or a member of a hip-hop dance troupe about to bust into her "Dynamite" routine. Which is more good news. And by Monday afternoon, I was feeling more like myself. You know, I vacuumed the house and wiped down my entire kitchen and caught up on laundry and then finished rearranging the playroom. Stuff like that.

And the Celtics won on Monday night, so I guess they were feeling more like themselves by then, too. And tonight I will prepare myself for the whirlwindy holiday weekend by watching them play from my relaxing couch. I can yell, "For threeeeee!" just as easily at home, and Marley can join in from there, too.