Love is enough
As Otto and I lay in bed last night, I poured out my frustration while he held my hand and listened. Because I have a nice life. Actually, no; I have a pretty wonderful life. And yet I struggle, daily, against my will and my common sense, with the ability to just be happy.
I still believe that—as I said once before—there is a certain arrogance in being unhappy when leading a good and blessed and lucky life. And to be clear, I’m not UNhappy. But I am not as happy as I could and should be, much of the time. Somewhere on my permanent medical chart I am officially diagnosed as being dysthymic, which I suppose gives me license to abdicate responsibility because hey, man, my brain chemistry is wonky, so, you know, not my fault.
But. I want more. More from myself, more from my life, more of my best self for my loved ones. What I have, already, is more than enough; what I need is to take that enough and appreciate it more. read more…
Just don’t say maverick
Well, I was really hoping to give you some sort of definitive THIS IS THE ANSWER sort of update after our latest appointment in regards to Chickadee’s skin, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t happen that way. I mean, we’ve been trying to figure out this rash for three years now; what’s the big hurry?
The good news is that we started out there seeing the doctor who was taking new patients, rather than the one it had been recommended we see. And after two appointments, we ended up seeing the recommended doctor because our regular doctor was unavailable. And apparently the fourth time’s the charm, because yesterday we saw the department head, Headguy. (For those keeping score at home, that means we’ve now seen every doctor they have.)
“When you come to me it’s because we’re tried the standard stuff and everyone else is stumped,” he said. I’d love to paint him as a brash egomaniac, because that would probably make a more interesting story, but really, he seemed pretty down-to-earth. At first, anyway. read more…
Chickadeedee Rash and the Cucumber of Doom
We’re headed back to the Big City today to discuss Chickadee’s rash. AGAIN. School starts up in a couple of weeks, and thus far our summer with The Experts at Emory has yielded… oh, that’s right, A HORRIBLE RASH. Technically the rash is not their fault, but I must say that my hopes that we’d finally resolve this little problem—you know, three years after it began—are fading. The rash itself, however? NOT FADING. But at least we’ve had her off steroids and any sort of antihistamine in preparation for the repeat nickel patch test which… was canceled. Awesome.
[Sidebar: I may just climb up on the exam table today and hold my daughter aloft while drawing circles on her stomach with Sharpie, just to point out that everything I’ve read about nickel allergy dermatitis says IT STARTS ON THE STOMACH if you wear jeans with any sort of regularity (and she wears them every damn day, on account of her legs are all rashy and she mostly refuses to wear shorts). The ONE place she doesn’t have a rash? HER STOMACH. So. Yeah, let’s do backflips to have THAT test, because it’s going to be so useful.]
It’s possible I’m a little worked up about this. Good thing I hide it so well. read more…
Find out if VACATION™ is right for you
Do you experience stress? Are you bored? Do you need a break from the everyday? Are your children whining that summer is boring? You should ask the Internet about VACATION™ to see if it might be right for you. VACATION™ has been used to treat Regular Life for years, and is the number one Internet-approved method for slacking off.
VACATION™ is the simplest, most effective way to develop an appreciation of your own bed, kitchen, “alone time,” and access to over 200 channels even when nothing is on. VACATION™ can help you reconnect with your appreciation of silence, and rekindle your love of the mundane. VACATION™ has been approved to treat wanderlust, boredom, what-are-we-doing-today-itis, the belief that board games are fun, and some forms of warts. Do not begin taking VACATION™ until you’ve consulted the Internet to determine which VACATION™ is right for you; for maximum safety, continue your connection to the Internet while taking VACATION™ so that in the event of non-perfection, you can bitch about it. VACATION™ is usually effective within 24 hours, with some experiencing relief within just minutes. Do not continue taking VACATION™ for more than two weeks, as serious side effects (such as unemployment) occur. read more…
Love’s ahoy, wherever we are
We’re packing up and heading home; as always, this trip has had its ups and downs, but it’s still bittersweet to close up the camper and hitch up and drive back to everyday life.
As I walked through the campground this morning, I chuckled (as I always do) at the different things people do to personalize their campers. There’s all sorts of signs (“The Smiths Second Home!” and “Kick off your shoes and grab a beer!” and such) and strings of lights and even hanging plants and lawn ornaments. Our camper is bland by comparison. But we do put up our flag as soon as we park, just as a reminder of what we, as a family, stand for.
(It either means that the family that laughs together stays together, or that rotten children should totally look out. I can never remember which.)
Happy Love Thursday, everyone. Whatever form love takes for you and yours, don’t leave home without it.
Are you ready to go camping?
Yesterday turned out to be one of those days where we look around at the end of it and say, “… and let us never speak of it again.” Nothing horrible, really, just not a good day in terms of patience and kindness to your fellow family members. It turns out that sometimes absence DOES make the heart grow fonder, especially if you’re talking about escaping a small box by taking a walk for a while. So.
Accordingly, then, rather than regaling you with more tales of our exploits, I thought there’s been so much general interest in camping that I might help some of the on-the-fence amongst you decide if camping is right for your family. You know, because I’m an expert. Or I play one on the Internet. Or something. I forget.
Really, there are just a few key things you need to ask yourself if you’re considering taking your family camping. And—as usual—I’m here to help. Don’t be scared. read more…
Loving family environment
The reason we got a camper is because my idea of “roughing it” is raising children. And having a place to plug in my crock pot. Details. Our camper is neither large nor fancy, but it did allow us to have veggie chili for dinner last night (seriously, a crock pot while camping is AWESOME) while sitting in our little air-conditioned box. And that is awesome because it is currently 95 degrees and a billion percent humidity every day here at Myrtle Beach.
[Digression: If I had a nickel for every time I found myself turning to Otto and saying, “Have you MET these children?”, I could retire. Yesterday Otto said it was “just a short walk” over to the boardwalk, and a mile and two melting, complaining children later, we scrapped the expedition in favor of ice cream. Otto was disappointed and somewhat exasperated. I would like to stipulate that in this weather, there is NO SUCH THING as a short walk. I may not whine the way the kids do, but seriously, that was the fast track to heat stroke, right there.]
Anyway, vacation is all about making memories. I have no doubt we’ll be telling the one about how Otto led us on the neverending walk for YEARS! Plus dinnertime is always good for magic moments. read more…
Operation Beach Dog
We have already discussed the fact that Licorice appears to suffer from PTSD (Post Traumatic Suitcase Disorder), wherein the very sight of packing sends her into a neurotic tizzy. So it was no surprise when the whirlwind of pack-up-the-camper activity on Saturday found her alternately pacing the house and hiding under furniture. That was to be expected.
What was slightly less expected was when we finally strapped her crate into the truck and took off on Sunday… and she proceeded to cry and whine for the entire first hour. In desperation, we stopped and walked her a bit—maybe she just had to poop, rather than that she was just being a pain in the ass—but back in the truck she continued to whimper and shiver and generally be pitiful. That was no problem at all, because it was only about a 6-hour drive to our destination. ACK.
After another fifteen minutes or so, she resigned herself to her fate and lay down, quietly. She continued to shoot martyred glares at us, periodically, but the rest of the drive was uneventful. read more…
My mind is a machine
Tomorrow we leave on our last camping trip of the summer, and I want you to know that because I am a paragon of planning and efficiency, I have not done one single thing to prepare. NOT ONE. I mean, I wanted to. I PLANNED to. And yet… yeah. Nothing.
Remember back when I was all “Oh, this summer is going to be so relaxing! I can’t wait!”? While I am not actually admitting to smoking crack, let’s just say I’m not sure I was entirely WITH myself when I said that. I simply don’t DO relaxing, because it takes a lot of energy to consistently be this disorganized.
Take yesterday, for example. We were having some friends come over to hang out and swim. I try to keep work light on Fridays specifically so that I can do these sorts of things, particularly in the summer. So I got up totally ready to have a superfun day, stress-free. read more…
Love knows the routine
We are more than halfway through the Summer of Pitching In, and have met with varying levels of success on that particular front. Someone—and I am not naming any names, but it is someone who lives here—has not been so much a fan of the whole “helping out” concept. That particular someone has participated very grudgingly, and appears to expect a ticker-tape parade in celebration of every semi-useful activity said person deigns to commit. (Said person has been extremely disappointed by our reaction to said “helpfulness.”)
And then there is Monkey. Monkey is the kind of kid who would happily give you the shirt off his back. (Heck, he’d give you his pants, too, if you weren’t there covering your eyes and yelling “DUDE! PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON!”) The Summer of Pitching In is just his speed, because he has little difficulty discerning how to help, and helping is His Thing. He loves nothing more than to make life easier for those around him when he can, possibly because he is all too aware of ways in which he (unintentionally) sometimes makes things harder.
If I asked Monkey to scrub the floor with a toothbrush, I’m pretty sure he’d only pause long enough to ask 1) what kind of soap to use and 2) if it was okay to use his sister’s toothbrush before getting to work. read more…