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dervishes that ransacked my house with a grin on my face and feel that I was having a truly meaningful conversation with them.

The loss of my sanity allowed me to deal with all the small crisis's of faith that children drop into your lap with unbridled enthusiasm. I could deal with poop in the bathtub and earthworms in my pans, sticky bubblegum kisses that end with the gum in my hair and permanent markers used as makeup, all these things that parents deal with on a daily basis and never bat an eye.

I could color contently for hours on the floor with my children, and giggle at Disney with them, after watching it for the third time that day. I could see the wonder of a dandelion and find delight in every rainbow, watch ants with fascination while they built their roads, laugh with abandon while going down a slide, and stare for hours at a sleeping child filled with contentment. No, these are not the actions of a sane person; sane people eat food with forks, talk in complete sentences, and engage in conversations about the environment, the economy, and movies that are rated above G.

As I sit here and reminisce about mud pies and flower chain bracelets, finger-paint art and bright print books, I know I wouldn't want my sanity back for any reason and miss out on these joys my children have shown me. So bye-bye sanity, we were good friends once, but now my children are calling me to play.

Learn more about this author, Lisa Morgan.
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