I am a mom, a wife, & an often disgruntled lab tech. I write, knit, crochet, cook, & just try to make it. My writing blog is wordsontheceiling.tumblr.com if you'd like to check it out. Thanks for hanging out in my head space! ~D
Trouble 1’s fever finally broke yesterday morning, and she spent the day eating everything I would give her. Apparently the antibiotics are working well. By today, you can’t even tell she’s been sick. She’s the tough one, anyway. Has had the harder road physically, but she has a great spirit and attitude about it.
On the upside of being stuck in the house with a sick kiddo is clean laundry and a few other things done. At least I’m not as behind as I usually am on a Wednesday.
I need to really dig in and finish my fall purge/cleaning spree. I always feel the urge to do it this time of year rather than in the spring. Maybe it is preparing for the holidays, I don’t know. But I need to get it wrapped up so I can put out all the fall decorations. It’s almost time!!!
Are y’all over summer? We got spoiled here with a cooler than usual season and this last hot-as-balls blast is extremely unwelcome. It’s getting in the way of my “here comes fall” excitement.
I think of things all the time to post about and then the ideas just slide right out of my ears by the time I sit down to do it. I’m really much more entertaining, I promise. Thanks for hanging out and reading all of this mundane crap anyway.
It must have been an epiphany when I wrote this; “write. write true. write free.”
I shall say the same to you.
If the pain you feel will heal through your words; write.
If your tomorrows can be brighter through the words which spill onto the page, from your pen; write.
If you want to free yourself from the shackles of yesterday; write.
Write whatever is in your heart, my dear. If someone passes judgement on your words for its content, their eyes aren’t worth your words.
Freedom, my darling; it is yours, in your flesh, in your mind, in your heart, in your soul and most definitely in your words.
Navin E. (on why you must keep writing)
Trouble 1 developed a fever this morning between church and lunch, and by the time we got her to the pediatric clinic it was 102.8. Long story short: possible early pneumonia. Kid hasn’t even had worse than minor sniffles in the past few days.
Entire day has degenerated into chaos, freak outs, and frustration. Why can’t that peaceful feeling ever last??? Now our house and our carefully maintained routine is on it’s head. Dammit.
Good thing I slept last night. Don’t think I will tonight.
Woke up today with fresh perspective. The calendar doesn’t look any less maddening, but somehow it doesn’t feel as overwhelming.
Last night the little ones spent the night with grandparents (big one was with the ex). Husband and I got a quick dinner and did some shopping. Wine at home, some couch snuggling, and a real night’s sleep followed. It’s amazing how much real rest helps anxiety levels.
It’s also amazing how crucial that reconnection is with the person you’ve pledged your life to. We need to make “us time” more of a priority. Even one night can make all the difference. I feel like we’re a team again.
We aren’t big spenders or flush with excess cash, but he spoiled me a little last night while shopping. Secretly loving it. Going to wear new clothes today. Yay! (I never buy them for myself)
Went to the podiatrist on Friday. Does that make me officially old? Regardless, had to get orthotic inserts and better shoes for work. So some of that shopping was necessary. New shoes are still cool, though.
Also got to hang with the bestie on Friday night, even if it was just at the house. I like her face. And her wine choices.
I’m going to try and corral some of the disaster we are living in this week. This place has gotten out of hand. Chaotic environment = chaotic mind, right? I feel the need to clean.
Rock out the end of your weekend, y’all.
* I was very disappointed at 3:30 pm today when I realized that it was Tuesday, not Wednesday.
* It’s always awesome when your workplace makes you feel like your existence really doesn’t matter at all. Go team. Not.
* I’ve heard that glitter nail polish is a m-f-er to get off. Let’s see if mine can survive the lab tech test. If it truly has tougher staying power, I might buy all glitter polishes, forever.
* I take that back: I am not doing this lab gig forever. Today reinforced my desire to find a way home. Permanently. Anybody interested in a couple of almost finished novels?
* There are things I want to share here but I’m still afraid.
* Ironing sucks.
* I want ice cream. And a maid.
I decided something over the weekend: I’m growing my hair back out.
I know, I know…. If you’ve read this ridiculous blog for any length of time, you probably just rolled your eyes. Yes, six months ago I was super pumped to whack it all off. And I know I’ve done this whole cut-it-off-grow-it-out cycle at least two or tree times since I started writing this thing. But here is the root of it: I like my hair long.
I feel prettier with long hair, more feminine. I have had hair below my shoulders for 2/3 of my life, at least, and I feel more “me” with it. I love to put it up in twists, braid it, wrap it in scarves…. I just like it. But no one else seems to.
Well, that not entirely true. My husband does. He prefers it long, I think, but has been supportive of it short. I told him I want to grow it out and he smiled and said “you won’t get any arguments out of me”. But I will catch hell from everyone else, like it or not.
See, when I cut it off this last time, I got a ludicrous amount of attention. Friends, coworkers, family…. Everyone oohed and ahhed and fell all over themselves telling me how cute it was, how it suited me and my personality…. Blah, blah. I don’t know that it really looked that great; it was just different. And with long hair, I usually kept it in a ponytail at work. Now those people got to see me with a “real” hairstyle.
It was a change. A big one. And that was fun for a while, but I keep wanting my hair back. Then someone will compliment it and I talk myself out of growing it.
Wtf? Why am I letting everyone else dictate something that is central to my “me”-ness? I’ve never given a flying f#@k about what anyone thought of my appearance. Why now?
I don’t have the answers to those questions right now. Maybe by the time this hair grows back I will figure it out.