One of my favorite oxymorons is "a nice relaxing 3 day weekend."
Ok, so it's not ALWAYS an oxymoron, but generally, when it coincides with a National holiday, there's no way I'm going to be able to relax.
This past weekend I:
- cut down and cut up some trees
- planted about a gazillion plants including several shrubs and at least 2 flats of flowers
- went on no less than 4 shopping trips
- attended a graduation party
- barbequed
- weeded an enormous flower bed
- watched my baby eat dirt
And no, not all of it was strenuous... as a matter of fact, most of it was wonderfully enjoyable. But at the same time, my armpits are sore, and my allergies are KICKING MY BUTT, and...
well, in short, I could use a couple of days to recuperate.
The good news is that it's already Tuesday... only three more days to go!
31 May 2005
26 May 2005
Vroom...
Oh yeah... I love being a car owner.
I love the rush of shifting into 5th and cruising along a wide open road with the windows down and the volume up. The only thing missing is the flip-top and the 6th gear.
Unfortunately...
Oh Sigh...
Being a car owner, being a happy car owner (even with only five speeds), has a significant down-side. Occasionally bad things happen to good cars.
I was just zooming along, on my way to work this morning, minding my own business and being pleased by the fact that the third lane on this stretch of my commute had recently been re-opened. The next thing I know, there's a piece of concrete (recently kicked up by the Black Caddy two cars in front of me) flying at my car with insane velocity, and I had no place to go and no time to get there.
Then, Oh God!, then the sickening crunch as the concrete chunk took a couple of bites out of the front fender (passenger side) of my sweet little car.
I know, and yes, I am VERY grateful that it hit the body of the car... had it been a foot higher I would likely have had a chunk of concrete through the windshield and possibly through the passenger seat.
I pulled over, hoping beyond hope that it was just a little dent. It's not. If I had a camera with me right now, I'd post the ugly gash that runs along the fender... just at about the top of the tire, so you could see, too. The guy in the black Caddy pulled over too - his car had a flat - most likely from a sharp edge digging in to the rubber during the launch.
Can I afford to fix it? No... not really. The car is drivable - the damage is just cosmetic - a scar, a war wound, a badge of honor for a little car having lived, already, through 3 years of rough Michigan roads. I do have a call in to my insurance company... not because I want to file a claim with them - I just can't afford for my rates to go up... or the deductible for that matter - but because I hope they can provide some guidance for making the D.O.T. or the local municipality to cover the cost of repairs.
No, I'm not holding out much hope here either... but I figure it can't hurt.
Overall - I'm happy to be alive. I'm happy that my little Buddha-car still moves without screeching, squealing, or causing further damage to himself. I'm grateful beyond words that it didn't hit the windshield.
And I'm sad, too.
I love the rush of shifting into 5th and cruising along a wide open road with the windows down and the volume up. The only thing missing is the flip-top and the 6th gear.
Unfortunately...
Oh Sigh...
Being a car owner, being a happy car owner (even with only five speeds), has a significant down-side. Occasionally bad things happen to good cars.
I was just zooming along, on my way to work this morning, minding my own business and being pleased by the fact that the third lane on this stretch of my commute had recently been re-opened. The next thing I know, there's a piece of concrete (recently kicked up by the Black Caddy two cars in front of me) flying at my car with insane velocity, and I had no place to go and no time to get there.
Then, Oh God!, then the sickening crunch as the concrete chunk took a couple of bites out of the front fender (passenger side) of my sweet little car.
I know, and yes, I am VERY grateful that it hit the body of the car... had it been a foot higher I would likely have had a chunk of concrete through the windshield and possibly through the passenger seat.
I pulled over, hoping beyond hope that it was just a little dent. It's not. If I had a camera with me right now, I'd post the ugly gash that runs along the fender... just at about the top of the tire, so you could see, too. The guy in the black Caddy pulled over too - his car had a flat - most likely from a sharp edge digging in to the rubber during the launch.
Can I afford to fix it? No... not really. The car is drivable - the damage is just cosmetic - a scar, a war wound, a badge of honor for a little car having lived, already, through 3 years of rough Michigan roads. I do have a call in to my insurance company... not because I want to file a claim with them - I just can't afford for my rates to go up... or the deductible for that matter - but because I hope they can provide some guidance for making the D.O.T. or the local municipality to cover the cost of repairs.
No, I'm not holding out much hope here either... but I figure it can't hurt.
Overall - I'm happy to be alive. I'm happy that my little Buddha-car still moves without screeching, squealing, or causing further damage to himself. I'm grateful beyond words that it didn't hit the windshield.
And I'm sad, too.
25 May 2005
Somnabatics
My daughter - now just 2 days away from 13 months old - still sleeps with me. This is mostly, at least right now, because I prefer her to. I'm not sure if she would have objections to her own bed or not, as we have yet to attempt getting her to sleep in her own bed. Like I said, this is my doing... I like having her in bed with me and at the moment I'm not prepared to give it up.
I am getting closer to being prepared.
Last night she started out, as she does every night, with her head next to my head, sort of nestled in beside me. Five minutes later she was stretched perpendicular to me, head on the "barrier pillows" on the other side of the bed, feet (ACTIVE FEET) on me. Ten minutes after that, her active feet were dancing perilously close to my nose. When I awakened this morning, she was all but curled up with the cat... who sleeps at the foot of my bed, between my feet.
I have a mild curiosity regargding whether she does this because she sleeps with me, and I get in her sleeping way... but I know that she's ever so still at nap time - with or without me beside her. I also worry about her continuing her nighttime antics without the barrier pillows - and barrier mama - in her own bed. If she does, I sincerely anticipate a whole new round of sleepless nights, initiated by the thump of her falling out of bed.
So far, I remain (knock wood) free of bruises from the dance of dreaming... and as far as I'm concerned, that's still a good enough reason to extend the co-sleeping a little longer.
I am getting closer to being prepared.
Last night she started out, as she does every night, with her head next to my head, sort of nestled in beside me. Five minutes later she was stretched perpendicular to me, head on the "barrier pillows" on the other side of the bed, feet (ACTIVE FEET) on me. Ten minutes after that, her active feet were dancing perilously close to my nose. When I awakened this morning, she was all but curled up with the cat... who sleeps at the foot of my bed, between my feet.
I have a mild curiosity regargding whether she does this because she sleeps with me, and I get in her sleeping way... but I know that she's ever so still at nap time - with or without me beside her. I also worry about her continuing her nighttime antics without the barrier pillows - and barrier mama - in her own bed. If she does, I sincerely anticipate a whole new round of sleepless nights, initiated by the thump of her falling out of bed.
So far, I remain (knock wood) free of bruises from the dance of dreaming... and as far as I'm concerned, that's still a good enough reason to extend the co-sleeping a little longer.
GG!
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24 May 2005
Climate Change
My boss got a new job. This is a good/bad thing.
It's good for him in that he'll be able to move on to greener, more amenable pastures. He'll be happy and I'll have a contact in a new department... one in which I previously had no friends.
It has the distinct possibility of being bad in that there's really no knowing who's going to try to fill his shoes. I mean, yeah, there's the off chance that the person coming in would be really great. There's the off chance that the person coming in would already have some idea of what it is that we do, how we do it, and why. There's also the very real threat that the person coming in will suck.
This is the bad part. If the person coming in sucks, it will mean months of hand-holding and self-justification for me and my team, as we attempt to break in the new kid, show him or her the ropes, and make it as clear as possible that THIS is not a position where you're going to make the world a better, or less expensive, or more efficient place.
As for me??? I'm actively looking for work in another department. I'd like to break loose before all hell does.
It's good for him in that he'll be able to move on to greener, more amenable pastures. He'll be happy and I'll have a contact in a new department... one in which I previously had no friends.
It has the distinct possibility of being bad in that there's really no knowing who's going to try to fill his shoes. I mean, yeah, there's the off chance that the person coming in would be really great. There's the off chance that the person coming in would already have some idea of what it is that we do, how we do it, and why. There's also the very real threat that the person coming in will suck.
This is the bad part. If the person coming in sucks, it will mean months of hand-holding and self-justification for me and my team, as we attempt to break in the new kid, show him or her the ropes, and make it as clear as possible that THIS is not a position where you're going to make the world a better, or less expensive, or more efficient place.
As for me??? I'm actively looking for work in another department. I'd like to break loose before all hell does.
18 May 2005
Bad Dream
Probably because there is so much going on. Last night my first dream was horrible.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My husband and I were visiting his mother, who lived - oddly enough - in a dreamland version of my maternal grandmother's house. There were other members of his mother's family there, visiting I seem to recall, for some family event. Maybe it was a birthday, but I'm not sure.
Somewhere in the depths of the dream, I deposited my husband and our daughter in a room on the second or maybe even the third story; a room where my mother-in-law was holding some family version of court, I think. Shortly after they went into the room - I'm not sure I was allowed to enter - I went downstairs... All the way downstairs.
It was in the basement/cellar that I was doing our laundry... But I could hear what was happening - in scattered bits and pieces - in all the other rooms of the house, courtesy of a ratty ventilation/heating system. This is eerily accurate to my Grandma's house by the way. After not too long I realised that my husband was in the basement with me - under the pretense of helping me. I was torn between being relieved for having company in the musty, dim room and being infuriated that he had left our daughter ANYWHERE in this house without one of us close at hand.
Before I got a chance to tell him this, however, I heard the instantly heart-breaking, every mother's worst moment, shrill, I'm-in-pain scream of my daughter echoing through the ducts, like a pinball making its way through the ventilation maze down to us.
I brushed past my ashen mother-in-law who was shouting to my husband "It's NOT my fault" as I made my way up the stairs to my daughter. My body and instincts, perhaps, had taken over and in this state of auto-mom, lungs and lips and teeth and tongue were independently screaming out the phrase "Where's my baby? Where's my baby?!?!?!"
She was in the kitchen, at the table, sitting on the lap of a girl - no more than 15 - who I didn't know, but who bore enough family resemblance for me to know that she belonged here. The girl held a once white, now blood-stained washcloth to my daughter's face, between her right temple and her right eye. The cloth covered her eye and I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. Even now my daughter's dream-wailing rings in my ears. In the dream, of course, I was moving in slow motion and by the time I made it to her side, the girl removed the cloth to reveal a semi-circular gash running in the curve from the end of her eyebrow to the very corner of her eye. In the seconds that the cloth was removed, the wound welled up with blood and overflowed onto her pale cheek, her white shirt... The floor.
I got to her and held her in my arms, pressing the cloth to her face and desperately attempting to force my lungs and lips and teeth and tongue to call for my husband, before I woke up... But only just before.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When I woke up, I was a wreck. Heart thumping, sweaty, scrambling to hold my peacefully sleeping little girl close to me and never let her go.
I think this might be an allegory for what it is to be a mom. For as much as I put up the brave face, and remind my anxious family members that "babies fall over," there IS, in me, the ferocious tiger of a mother who worries, constantly and with a wild imagination, over her safety... and my own feeble attempts to ensure it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My husband and I were visiting his mother, who lived - oddly enough - in a dreamland version of my maternal grandmother's house. There were other members of his mother's family there, visiting I seem to recall, for some family event. Maybe it was a birthday, but I'm not sure.
Somewhere in the depths of the dream, I deposited my husband and our daughter in a room on the second or maybe even the third story; a room where my mother-in-law was holding some family version of court, I think. Shortly after they went into the room - I'm not sure I was allowed to enter - I went downstairs... All the way downstairs.
It was in the basement/cellar that I was doing our laundry... But I could hear what was happening - in scattered bits and pieces - in all the other rooms of the house, courtesy of a ratty ventilation/heating system. This is eerily accurate to my Grandma's house by the way. After not too long I realised that my husband was in the basement with me - under the pretense of helping me. I was torn between being relieved for having company in the musty, dim room and being infuriated that he had left our daughter ANYWHERE in this house without one of us close at hand.
Before I got a chance to tell him this, however, I heard the instantly heart-breaking, every mother's worst moment, shrill, I'm-in-pain scream of my daughter echoing through the ducts, like a pinball making its way through the ventilation maze down to us.
I brushed past my ashen mother-in-law who was shouting to my husband "It's NOT my fault" as I made my way up the stairs to my daughter. My body and instincts, perhaps, had taken over and in this state of auto-mom, lungs and lips and teeth and tongue were independently screaming out the phrase "Where's my baby? Where's my baby?!?!?!"
She was in the kitchen, at the table, sitting on the lap of a girl - no more than 15 - who I didn't know, but who bore enough family resemblance for me to know that she belonged here. The girl held a once white, now blood-stained washcloth to my daughter's face, between her right temple and her right eye. The cloth covered her eye and I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. Even now my daughter's dream-wailing rings in my ears. In the dream, of course, I was moving in slow motion and by the time I made it to her side, the girl removed the cloth to reveal a semi-circular gash running in the curve from the end of her eyebrow to the very corner of her eye. In the seconds that the cloth was removed, the wound welled up with blood and overflowed onto her pale cheek, her white shirt... The floor.
I got to her and held her in my arms, pressing the cloth to her face and desperately attempting to force my lungs and lips and teeth and tongue to call for my husband, before I woke up... But only just before.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When I woke up, I was a wreck. Heart thumping, sweaty, scrambling to hold my peacefully sleeping little girl close to me and never let her go.
I think this might be an allegory for what it is to be a mom. For as much as I put up the brave face, and remind my anxious family members that "babies fall over," there IS, in me, the ferocious tiger of a mother who worries, constantly and with a wild imagination, over her safety... and my own feeble attempts to ensure it.
Much
So very much has happened...
- My cousin got a much desired job here at my work place. I feel very good because I submitted her resume for it.
- My in-laws and I had probably the most pleasant visit since the birth of my daughter on Saturday.
- My husband made it, mostly unscathed, through a very trying time at work.
- My boss got a new job and will be leaving in about 2 and 1/2 weeks.
- I had a great social evening with my friends last night - just before some of them embark on a journey through the heart of darkness.
I have so very much to do...
- Clean my room
- A month's worth of laundry
- Homework from my social event
- A weekend visit to my inlaws
- A slew of upcoming social engagements
I'd like some sleep. Life is whirlwinding around me right now... and I've got a very "Dorothy Gale" feeling about me.
I hope the Wizard is kind.
- My cousin got a much desired job here at my work place. I feel very good because I submitted her resume for it.
- My in-laws and I had probably the most pleasant visit since the birth of my daughter on Saturday.
- My husband made it, mostly unscathed, through a very trying time at work.
- My boss got a new job and will be leaving in about 2 and 1/2 weeks.
- I had a great social evening with my friends last night - just before some of them embark on a journey through the heart of darkness.
I have so very much to do...
- Clean my room
- A month's worth of laundry
- Homework from my social event
- A weekend visit to my inlaws
- A slew of upcoming social engagements
I'd like some sleep. Life is whirlwinding around me right now... and I've got a very "Dorothy Gale" feeling about me.
I hope the Wizard is kind.
09 May 2005
Any Excuse
Mother's day this year really woke me up.
I'm not sure which of our non-religious holidays are creations of Hallmark and which have National roots, and so forth. To be quite honest, I don't really care.
I like the idea of having an excuse - because no one really NEEDS a reason - to celebrate the specialness of a family member or a loved one, or to stand up and be proud of people who maybe you don't even know but who did really great and/or interesting things.
I don't buy (or even make anymore, alas) many cards, and I'm not overly fussed, for myself, over the whole gift thing. But I most emphatically embrace the idea of showing a little extra regard, or sharing some bonus-pampering, or even just giving way to the whims of the person whose honor the day respects.
I think it would be cool if we had more of those days... probably we do, and I've just sort of blown them off, not paying attention. Even if we do - or don't - I think I might start designating some... just to take the time.
I'm going to work on my calendar...
I'm not sure which of our non-religious holidays are creations of Hallmark and which have National roots, and so forth. To be quite honest, I don't really care.
I like the idea of having an excuse - because no one really NEEDS a reason - to celebrate the specialness of a family member or a loved one, or to stand up and be proud of people who maybe you don't even know but who did really great and/or interesting things.
I don't buy (or even make anymore, alas) many cards, and I'm not overly fussed, for myself, over the whole gift thing. But I most emphatically embrace the idea of showing a little extra regard, or sharing some bonus-pampering, or even just giving way to the whims of the person whose honor the day respects.
I think it would be cool if we had more of those days... probably we do, and I've just sort of blown them off, not paying attention. Even if we do - or don't - I think I might start designating some... just to take the time.
I'm going to work on my calendar...
06 May 2005
Ugly American
A recent post on PinkDot touched a nerve.
I have a one year old daughter, and have been thinking lately about her "heritage."
Both her father and I are "muddy-blooded" Americans. We're both made up of smatterings of Native American (which until recently I thought was just fine with it's old moniker of American Indian - a lot I know!), English, and I think German. He has more on his side - for mine there's also Dutch, French, Irish, Scottish, Polish, and Czech. Add to that that my husband's family's religious affiliations are primarily Protestant in nature and mine are Catholic and (whether or not my paternal grandmother will openly admit it), most likely, Jewish.
In short - we're just about as Euro-American as it gets... especially my daughter.
Does this bother me?
On one hand, No. I don't think there's anything wrong with not having a strong affiliation to a distant culture. I think it's a fine thing to be an American - replete with our bold opinions and the courage to speak them, our high levels of self esteem, and our strong desires to be renovators of all the brilliant ideas that founded not only our country but those of our ancestors.
On the other hand, I have first hand experience of Ugly Americans - rife with ignorance and the pride to bandy it about, our arrogance, and our ridiculous notion that the world needs another round of crusades.
I have been a determined advocate for the first description of Americans. When I travel and at home I make every effort to embrace those qualities that speak to our Culture (yes, with the "capital" C), and our grace, our goodness, and our strength. I am a committed iconoclast - perhaps enough to say that it is my personal crusade - of the Ugly American. While I know that singlehandedly I cannot destroy this image, I also firmly believe that the light of my single candle - and that of my daughter as she grows to believe that American can mean beautiful - is enough to dispel at least a little darkness.
So - she will grow up American - muddy blooded and all - and will know of the greatness of this country and its peoples... and she will know of the greatness of her people - those whose blood is all mixed up in her. She will, most certainly, be fore-armed with enough knowledge of what is ugly to counter it (and propogate its antidote) in her own life... because she will know - even more proudly - what beauty courses through the very soul of this country and herself.
I have a one year old daughter, and have been thinking lately about her "heritage."
Both her father and I are "muddy-blooded" Americans. We're both made up of smatterings of Native American (which until recently I thought was just fine with it's old moniker of American Indian - a lot I know!), English, and I think German. He has more on his side - for mine there's also Dutch, French, Irish, Scottish, Polish, and Czech. Add to that that my husband's family's religious affiliations are primarily Protestant in nature and mine are Catholic and (whether or not my paternal grandmother will openly admit it), most likely, Jewish.
In short - we're just about as Euro-American as it gets... especially my daughter.
Does this bother me?
On one hand, No. I don't think there's anything wrong with not having a strong affiliation to a distant culture. I think it's a fine thing to be an American - replete with our bold opinions and the courage to speak them, our high levels of self esteem, and our strong desires to be renovators of all the brilliant ideas that founded not only our country but those of our ancestors.
On the other hand, I have first hand experience of Ugly Americans - rife with ignorance and the pride to bandy it about, our arrogance, and our ridiculous notion that the world needs another round of crusades.
I have been a determined advocate for the first description of Americans. When I travel and at home I make every effort to embrace those qualities that speak to our Culture (yes, with the "capital" C), and our grace, our goodness, and our strength. I am a committed iconoclast - perhaps enough to say that it is my personal crusade - of the Ugly American. While I know that singlehandedly I cannot destroy this image, I also firmly believe that the light of my single candle - and that of my daughter as she grows to believe that American can mean beautiful - is enough to dispel at least a little darkness.
So - she will grow up American - muddy blooded and all - and will know of the greatness of this country and its peoples... and she will know of the greatness of her people - those whose blood is all mixed up in her. She will, most certainly, be fore-armed with enough knowledge of what is ugly to counter it (and propogate its antidote) in her own life... because she will know - even more proudly - what beauty courses through the very soul of this country and herself.
05 May 2005
Pet Peeve
Ok - I'll admit it, I am persnickety about things at work.
I like to have a little warning before something ugly hits my desk.
I like to be able to schedule time to talk over complex issues.
I like it when everyone arrives to a meeting prepared for the meeting.
AND
I hate it when I show up at someone's desk - on time - and they're working
on a project that has to be put away before my time can begin. That's why,
when I'm going to have someone come to my desk, to work on a project
together, I like to be sure that I have everything put away and only have
whatever it is we're going to be working on set up on my computer.
That's why this next one is so infuriating.
Right now (actually 10 minutes ago) I am supposed to be working on getting
some stuff set up on my system. This means that I am not working on
anything else (with the exception of this post, I guess) and more or less
just sitting here, waiting for the person to arrive. It's not that I don't
have a lot to do, nor that I don't have a lot I could be doing right now,
but in the name of being considerate, I have put all of that away - more
than 10 minutes ago, now - so that when she arrived we could get right to
work, saving both of us valuable/precious time to work on all those other
projects out there waiting for us.
Maybe I should excuse myself to the ladies room... she's guaranteed to
arrive in my absence, no?
03 May 2005
BreastFeeding Breakdown
Original plan:
Stop nursing, stop pumping, stop all methods of breastfeeding at 1 year.
Results:
Agonies of pain, a grumpy / sad / otherwise moody me, a baby not overly fussed but missing the mommy time.
Actions:
Returned (last night) to "don't offer, don't deny" nursing routine - ONLY when I am at home (i.e. no pumping).
Current Results:
Pain relief, mood improvement, and a (to me) distinctly happier baby
Future Plan:
Continue on this route until
a) feedings drop off naturally (i.e. she gets too busy to take the time to crawl up on my lap to have some milk)
b) I feel ready to break the bond and suffer the "fullness" and cut her off again - though more slowly this time
c) she starts school (ha ha ha)
Obviously I feel better about it, I'm actually able to embrace a sense of humor instead of moping off somewhere to have a cry because I could actually think something so cruel about it.
Stop nursing, stop pumping, stop all methods of breastfeeding at 1 year.
Results:
Agonies of pain, a grumpy / sad / otherwise moody me, a baby not overly fussed but missing the mommy time.
Actions:
Returned (last night) to "don't offer, don't deny" nursing routine - ONLY when I am at home (i.e. no pumping).
Current Results:
Pain relief, mood improvement, and a (to me) distinctly happier baby
Future Plan:
Continue on this route until
a) feedings drop off naturally (i.e. she gets too busy to take the time to crawl up on my lap to have some milk)
b) I feel ready to break the bond and suffer the "fullness" and cut her off again - though more slowly this time
c) she starts school (ha ha ha)
Obviously I feel better about it, I'm actually able to embrace a sense of humor instead of moping off somewhere to have a cry because I could actually think something so cruel about it.
Paris to Pleh...
I believe I learned my lesson with The Sailor... and am NOT going to continue reading this book.
No offense to any of my friends (PinkDot) who have a mad passion for Paris, or even for France, but I cannot get into this book and have no desire to torture myself with reading another collection of words more or less meaningless to me. I will have to lend it to a friend... so at least it gets read... maybe.
In other news:
We celebrated my daughter's first birthday over the past few weeks. Two weeks ago tuesday with my gamey friends. Last Wednesday with my co-workers and my in-laws. Sunday with one of her four Godparents. The funniest bit about Sunday is that it was meant to be small, just not as small as it ended up being.
Due to a death in the family (G.r.h.s.) my in-laws were unable to attend. Due to the overwhelming overwhelmingness of classes, two of her Godparents M.I.A., and due to current nasty weather and a bad roof the last of her Godparents was absent. It was odd... but not entirely unpleasant. What I had thought would be a very stressy day for me ended up being way more relaxed than any other "family" event I have ever planned, and I am strongly considering changing all social events to a "one-at-a-time" program. Sure, it might take me all year to get things out of the way, but what an ideal to live relaxed!
Friday and Saturday were spent among the Amish of Shipshewana, IN. We buy much of our meat there, and some other sundries. It's a good sort of semi-mini-vacation (in spite of the drive) and the bacon is really good. We got some lamb this time too - a personal favorite...
For the rest of this week, well - things are a little out of whack. My husband and daughter were meant to visit my mother-in-law for her birthday on Thursday, but because of the funerals, it doesn't seem that's going to happen. My in-laws will actually be in Tennessee on Thursday, which is a real shame... Birthdays should exempt from painful memories, and I feel for her that not only her birthday, but Mother's Day, as well, is going to be tainted with loss this year.
They came by for a visit last night, so at least they got to spend some time together, and we (meaning at least my husband and I) will be attending the local funeral tomorrow... still haven't discussed whether or not we'll bring our little girl. But with them travelling to TN overnight Wednesday, I'm not sure what their plans for the weekend will be. I hope that she can find some solace in the relatives she has down there, and rest some... but at the same time, I want her to be able to participate in/enjoy (somehow) Mother's day.
Ah - things will unfold.
For now, I'm swamped with work (finding my own solace in hot tea and blathering here) and trying to be supportive for my husband... and - as always - loving my little girl.
No offense to any of my friends (PinkDot) who have a mad passion for Paris, or even for France, but I cannot get into this book and have no desire to torture myself with reading another collection of words more or less meaningless to me. I will have to lend it to a friend... so at least it gets read... maybe.
In other news:
We celebrated my daughter's first birthday over the past few weeks. Two weeks ago tuesday with my gamey friends. Last Wednesday with my co-workers and my in-laws. Sunday with one of her four Godparents. The funniest bit about Sunday is that it was meant to be small, just not as small as it ended up being.
Due to a death in the family (G.r.h.s.) my in-laws were unable to attend. Due to the overwhelming overwhelmingness of classes, two of her Godparents M.I.A., and due to current nasty weather and a bad roof the last of her Godparents was absent. It was odd... but not entirely unpleasant. What I had thought would be a very stressy day for me ended up being way more relaxed than any other "family" event I have ever planned, and I am strongly considering changing all social events to a "one-at-a-time" program. Sure, it might take me all year to get things out of the way, but what an ideal to live relaxed!
Friday and Saturday were spent among the Amish of Shipshewana, IN. We buy much of our meat there, and some other sundries. It's a good sort of semi-mini-vacation (in spite of the drive) and the bacon is really good. We got some lamb this time too - a personal favorite...
For the rest of this week, well - things are a little out of whack. My husband and daughter were meant to visit my mother-in-law for her birthday on Thursday, but because of the funerals, it doesn't seem that's going to happen. My in-laws will actually be in Tennessee on Thursday, which is a real shame... Birthdays should exempt from painful memories, and I feel for her that not only her birthday, but Mother's Day, as well, is going to be tainted with loss this year.
They came by for a visit last night, so at least they got to spend some time together, and we (meaning at least my husband and I) will be attending the local funeral tomorrow... still haven't discussed whether or not we'll bring our little girl. But with them travelling to TN overnight Wednesday, I'm not sure what their plans for the weekend will be. I hope that she can find some solace in the relatives she has down there, and rest some... but at the same time, I want her to be able to participate in/enjoy (somehow) Mother's day.
Ah - things will unfold.
For now, I'm swamped with work (finding my own solace in hot tea and blathering here) and trying to be supportive for my husband... and - as always - loving my little girl.
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