It's been just over a month since I finally dared to say it out loud, that we believed Chickadee was getting better, that our long nightmare of a year might---finally!---be headed somewhere more hopeful. Meds were changed, improvements took hold, and I felt like we could hope without holding our collective breath. Since then, life here on the "outside" has marched on without my daughter. Monkey started school; Otto started back to work; when I drive past the high school in the late afternoon and see the cross country team out running, I quietly count to myself how many of the kids we know,...
I was thinking this morning---after I managed to stick my foot deep into my own mouth in front of a bunch of people, YAY!---about various cliches. Like, there should be something to describe the feeling of entering the third month of your kid's hospitalization and still not knowing 1) when she might be coming home, 2) if she's truly getting better, 3) if the #*&%^ Medicaid approval is ever coming, 4) if life will ever feel normal again. That's far too long and messy, and you know what? 90% of people do not want to hear about it, anyway. In the end (of the foot-in-mouth scenario) I had to...
This morning we set alarms (and got woken up early, anyway, by our trusty I-saw-you-breathe-it-must-be-kibble-o'clock prancing canine alarm) and got up early and the boys went back to school. Monkey's first day back to Hippie School, and Otto's first day back to teaching. Of course I made them pose. (Please disregard the fact that Otto really needs to polish his shoes and instead focus on the fact that Monkey's feet suddenly do not seem all that much smaller than a full grown man's. ACK.) Last night as we lay in bed, I commented to no one in particular, "Well, I'm ready for our summer to...
Portrait of the artist at the computer in the kitchen, completing a unit on Scientific Method while still in his pajamas. Not the first day of school, but still. (Pictured: One foot resting on the drawer where I keep my muffin tins. Not pictured: Me exhorting him for the umpteenth time to take his foot out of the drawer, or does he enjoy delicious banana-foot-funk muffins?) Yesterday was hard, and you made it less so. Thank you. Today is a little better.
Those of you who've been around here for years know that it's been my tradition ever since we moved to Georgia to post a picture of my kids' shoes on the first day of school. It not only works well with that whole Witness Protection Program thing my kids have going on, to me it's always felt like the most iconic representation of the new school year. Even once it became "uncool" to sport new kicks on the first day. If I'd bothered to think about it, I guess I would've imagined that the first day of high school would've been the same way---a picture of shoes, an excited but nervous launch...
Today you can find me playing the role of crusty ol' curmudgeon over at Feel More Better, where I am lamenting the role that rewards have come to play in our children's lives. Not a new topic, to be sure, but driven home for me yesterday in an unexpected way. Kids today, man. Pretty sure they're not going to be able to get out of bed for anything less than a ticker tape parade and a life-size trophy.
It's official; we have reached the portion of 2012 where things have been so incredibly suckalicious that my hands hover over the keyboard while I wrestle with the very real fear that you will just stop believing what I'm saying. Because it's outlandish. How can one family have such incredibly bad luck? Surely I am just making some of this up, or embellishing, or I've just completely lost my marbles or I'm just screwing with you now. (It would be nice if that was true, kind of. Except for the part where I'm either crazy or sadistic.) Anyway. EVERYONE IS FINE. Let's start with that. At last...
There's a part of me---rather a large part of me, actually---that wants to just walk away from the blog and leave the last post up forever as the latest and greatest thing I'll ever have to say. Because there is simply no topping the generosity you've shown over the last week, and little better in recent memory for us than the giddy anticipation of taking Chickadee on an outing after so long apart. Our Saturday afternoon adventure was 99% wonderful. We met up with a staff contact who ushered us around back to unload our donation bounty directly into a basement office, then came back around...
It was not actually my intention to wander away for most of a week, leaving you considering whether or not I had managed to get through that treatment planning meeting without vomiting. Whoops. Sorry! I suck. In my defense, now that the Great Zucchini Invasion of 2012 is winding down, it's gone all Attack of the Yummy Tomatoes 'round these parts. And although we all know I've been a little weird about my garden pretty much forever, the whole ZOMG-there-is-so-much-I-cannot-control-right-now-and-it-makes-my-tender-pink-middle-feel-uncomfy thing means that I am committed to my stupid garden in...
