No, this isn't a deliberation on my continuing battle with the dragon-like last ten-twenty (? who knows, the Ectopolooza of '08 did a number on my BMI) pounds.
We had a lovely Christmas. My dad came and picked Bruiser and me up for a week of doing shit-all. It was amazing. Okay, I worked a little, but not really anything very much or very stressful.
As Christmas Eve came, snow fell in beautiful, puffy flakes. Everyone was already safe on the farm, sitting around the wood stove, chasing Bruiser up and down the steep farmhouse stairs. People made me gin and tonics and brought me champagne. Other people did most of the cooking, cleaning, washing, and entertaining. I got to stare at the cedars, increasingly weighed down with white, as the blue twilight fell. I stayed up as long as I wanted, letting the little tyke fall asleep on my lap for once.
It was wonderful. It tipped the scales completely, away from what has been a very stressful, challenging, lean year.
Here's to more cheer, contentment, and relaxing moments in 2011! For all of us.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The Eternal Return
Wow. Hi, there. Yeah.
It's been rough here. I earned two parental stripes in November: first 911 call and ER visit, and first thorough dousing in vomit. Sorry, no other way to put it.
It turns out there are these things called febrile seizures my son gets if his temp spikes too fast. I learned this the hard way, and thought I was watching my child about to die in my arms. Very scary, but apparently without any long-term consequences. Crazy how resilient the little ones are.
So after a bout of pneumonia, we all headed to visit my 90+-year-old grandma. After nine hours in the car on the way home, I got sick. Really sick. As in, thank heavens this is a rental car. My son followed my lead a few hours after we passed out together in bed. Then the hubby, then both my parents. Fun!
That, and a basically empty bank account, despite working our asses off, had led to some pretty intense blues. We don't buy anything, only eat out once a week (for something cheap like pizza), yet still have no money. Sigh.
And finally, I'm still haunted, every time I hear someone is pregnant. It's not just the envy. It's the icky memories of my dark time before and during, when on some level I just knew something was about to go horribly wrong. It didn't, really, but the feelings remain.
On that notes, may all of you still struggling, regardless of your current status, find joy and support during this often hard season. And may the next year bring you happiness and contentment.
It's been rough here. I earned two parental stripes in November: first 911 call and ER visit, and first thorough dousing in vomit. Sorry, no other way to put it.
It turns out there are these things called febrile seizures my son gets if his temp spikes too fast. I learned this the hard way, and thought I was watching my child about to die in my arms. Very scary, but apparently without any long-term consequences. Crazy how resilient the little ones are.
So after a bout of pneumonia, we all headed to visit my 90+-year-old grandma. After nine hours in the car on the way home, I got sick. Really sick. As in, thank heavens this is a rental car. My son followed my lead a few hours after we passed out together in bed. Then the hubby, then both my parents. Fun!
That, and a basically empty bank account, despite working our asses off, had led to some pretty intense blues. We don't buy anything, only eat out once a week (for something cheap like pizza), yet still have no money. Sigh.
And finally, I'm still haunted, every time I hear someone is pregnant. It's not just the envy. It's the icky memories of my dark time before and during, when on some level I just knew something was about to go horribly wrong. It didn't, really, but the feelings remain.
On that notes, may all of you still struggling, regardless of your current status, find joy and support during this often hard season. And may the next year bring you happiness and contentment.
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