I don't know if my life used to be more interesting than it is now, or if I just used to believe it to be more interesting. (Maybe don't tell me. Allow me my fantasy that my life was once better than it is now.) I keep thinking, "I'll write once something fascinating happens." But guess what! I suppose this is middle age, yes? When you realize that your life is just not all that exciting...? (To be fair, I actually had that epiphany over the weekend when Otto was watching Formula One and I plunked myself down on the couch next to him. The coverage cut to a new thermal imaging camera they're...
I keep meaning to tell you this story, and what better time than during a government shutdown? Er, slowdown. Or whatever we're supposed to call it. It just seemed like a good time to reaffirm what every American already knows, which is that our medical system and government are---SURPRISE!---not actually operating as smoothly as they're supposed to. Try to contain your shock. So! Perhaps you remember that about a year ago, I took to the blog to detail how we'd finally gotten Chickadee qualified for Medicaid coverage while she was hospitalized. That was a really big deal, both because the...
Otto and I have a quaint little Monday morning routine, and it goes like this: My alarm goes off, and I commence slapping my clock in sleepy annoyance, and Otto says, "Why does Monday morning always come so EARLY?" I grunt in response, and thus our love carries us through another week. Oh, wait. Actually it's COFFEE that carries us through another week. That charming exchange we have every Monday morning is just that precious little reminder that when you truly love someone, you forgive them for trying to have a conversation with you before you've had your coffee. And then you pack a lunch...
[Before I get into the actual post, a great big sloppy thank-you to everyone who responded so kindly to my last couple of posts (and the corresponding post over on Alpha Mom). I am emerging from the fog and hoping I never have to switch medications ever again. Thanks for being patient with me.] Remember how last summer Monkey got glasses and there was much rejoicing? There was also some self-flagellation, because he'd been having trouble seeing for a while, and I hadn't kept up with yearly exams, but all of you assured me that these things can happen and the important thing was that it had...
1) Feeling like you're failing your kids. 2) Feeling like you're failing yourself. 3) Feeling crappy. 4) HAVING MANY FEEEEEEEELS, period. 5) Sometimes not wanting to talk about those things because there will always be someone ready to tell you that you're doing it wrong. A thing which (hopefully) does not suck: Me, over at Alpha Mom, reassuring you that you can manage depression and parenting and not ruin everything. Yeah, it would be better to never be depressed and just naturally be a perfect parent, but it would also be better to own a glitter-pooping unicorn and never have to say,...
"You have to blog so I have something to read on the way home," my father said to me this morning. "No pressure!" I answered, and we laughed. Then I told him I'd try to come up with something. When my folks come to visit for less than a week, it feels like they arrive and we eat and have some wine and some ice cream and then they leave. I never know where the days go. It is never long enough, and yet after they go I reassemble the house---taking the place mats off the dining room table and replacing the decorative runner that indicates we are normally an eat-at-the-kitchen-table family,...
I neglected to mention that about a week ago, Licorice and I had our birthdays. (Hers is the day after mine, according to the rescue from which she came, and also karmic math equations wherein your birthday + a dog's birthday the very next day = The One True Dog.) It's hard for me to verbalize why my attitude towards my own birthday these days is pretty unenthusiastic. It likely has something to do with the speed of time passing, the unexpected loops life has thrown our way the last couple of years, and gravity. (Mostly that last one.) Regardless of the cause, my excitement for marking...
This morning Chickadee had an appointment at Emory for chapter 593 in Mystery Rash: Where Is It Now, And Which Med Student Hasn't Seen It Yet?, and because getting into Atlanta on a weekday is always an enormous clusterfuck, we left nearly three hours before her scheduled arrival to be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN of getting there on time. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahaha. My optimism! It never fails to slay me. There's this whole time window calculation with heading into the city, too, where if your appointment is too early you get stuck in rush hour GOING, but if it's too late you get stuck in rush hour...
The thing about working from home is that---while those of you working in offices may recognize when you're wasting work time via, say, watching cat videos online---my time slippage is a lot more insidious than it used to be. That goes double now that we're back to school, because hey, sometimes Monkey really needs me to help him with his work, y'know? There's too many possible rabbit holes in my day, here. Because Monkey really needs me to help him with his work and THEN he has to show me this new thing in Minecraft OR he can't find a syllabus and so I HAVE to orchestrate a clean-up...
