Holy Crap, we're back!

Holy crap, we're back!

With all the craziness that's been going on, I haven't had time to sweep the cobwebs out of my corner of the internet lately. (Truth: I've had time but I've spent it doing other things...like eating chocolate covered pretzels, growing a  human being in my body, and watching the soft-core known as Outlander. No judging.)

So! Here we are with ALL! NEW! THINGS! That are really just commonplace regular things that are new to us. 

Things like: 

• A new baby! Baby Thor will be here on or around Feb 11, 2016. Dani is...underwhelmed by the arrival of a baby brother, but very excited about finally being able to stay up later than anyone in our house. 
• Dani is in Kindergarten! She's made the leap to a new school, and is crushing it. She's happy, adjusted, and basically being 5, Which, all previous ages considered, is my favorite so far. (Bias Revealed: The fact that all butt-wiping is now HER responsibility is not a small factor in determining my favorite age.) 
• Kris' sarcoidosis is in remission. (Can I get a halle-fucking-lujah?!) His ACE levels, along with many other bloodwork components that don't need to be memorialized on the internet, are returning to normal. Clearly, this return to health can be attributed to his wife's nagging about eating his goddamn blueberries and not the heavy-dose pharmaceuticals he's been mainlining for the last few months. 

That's all the time I have today, more to come tomorrow and (hopefully) on a more regular basis. 

Let There Be Light

I've been reading back through some of my latest entries and...well. It's been a bit gloomy around this corner of the internet, what with the "mah poor husband" and "ya'll damn doctors" business.

I come here to write and release the things that need a way out, to cathartically exorcise my inner demons so I'm able make it through carline without yelling at the other drivers or possibly throwing the cupcakes I bought totally made for D's class at them.

I suppose this is my little indulgence. The one thing I get to do for me and no one else--write out all the things that need to be brought into the light, whether that is to heal them or celebrate them, With time being of the essence--always, always with the 'not having enough time'--taking an hour here and there to feel heard, even if it's just by my keyboard, means the world to me.

For right now, 'good enough' is my philosophy of parenting and living. Survival mode has trumped my neurotic need to be ALL THE THINGS to ALL THE PEOPLE and things are as 'good enough' as we can reasonably expect.

Pizza for dinner? Sure. Three times in one week? Good enough.

Laundry clean? Yes! Yet still piled into Mt. Laundry on the guest bed? Good enough.

Lunches made? Totally! Consisting of aforementioned cheese pizza leftovers and some fruit snacks? GOOD ENOUGH.

I'm trying to learn from the things we're going through right now. I'm having faith that they will shape me for the better. In the meantime, I am eating chili for breakfast (because I CAN and sending my kid off with a  hug, a kiss and cheese pizza.

She's happy, which means I'm absolutely doing good enough.
And now, some proof that she is, indeed, happy:

Waves of Happiness

I'm sitting on a Key West fishing boat, surrounded by friends and  my family. The Florida sun is blazing down, changing my near-stark-white Polish/English skin a dusky shade of pink, while the spray from the sea cools my shoulder.

I tilt my head back, close my eyes and listen to the sound of the engine, a low roar, as it propels us to the next spot of calm. I hear my child laugh and open my eyes to see her face holding a wide, tall grin that is pure joy itself.

My daughter reaches out to point at the dolphins that are swimming alongside us. While I'd expect that visage to make my heart burst out of my chest, it doesn't. Instead, it settles quietly and contentedly as I allow myself to be fully immersed in this beautiful, golden moment.

And I think, as I'm here, that this is it. This is paradise. No palm trees or sunsets needed. Just sunshine, laughter and loved ones.

Suck it, Monday.

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up all bright and full of hope and just to be a dick, life says:   "You know what?  It's your turn today, jackass. Bend over."

Today was one of those days.

BUT: today I managed to keep my kid alive and reasonably well fed. (She's not bathed, but it's summer and running under a hose totally counts as a bath around here.) The dog is still here. No spouses were harmed in the making of this post.

I did not, at any point,  reach out and choke-slam anyone, regardless of their level of deservingness, although fate tempted me with quite a few jerk-offs who might have actually benefited from getting some sense knocked into them.

Overall, I'm calling it a day and a fucking WIN.

Perpetual Quarter

I showed D how to spin a quarter the other day. She thought I was made of magic for the rest of the day. Yes, I completely used that to get her to eat her vegetables that night and pick up her umpteen million toys. Parenting win!

Sometimes I look around from the minutia of the daily grind and wonder: How in the holy hell did I get here? I've often asked that question, but pre-D it was generally asked after a night I wouldn't remember but had thoroughly enjoyed. But how did I get here? 

That's easy. I moved my home, gained a husband, had a baby and a miscarriage all in one year. And then, not so unexpectedly, then I had depression. 

So, I wrote. And I wrote and wrote, and wrote some fucking more. Because my brain was a mess. Because I couldn't breathe from the isolation of being home alone all day just to be alone at night. Because typing out my words made me feel...not so alone. Even if no one ever read them but me, at least they existed. They were proof I existed. It's easy to forget that when the only person you talk to for days on end is an infant with the vocabulary of a cat in heat. That is to say, all screams.

And in that writing I discovered quite a bit. 1) I loved writing. 2) I was a fucking smartass and I liked it that way. 3) The confidence to quit giving one flying turd about what anyone else thought.

Put all that in a blender, toss in some time, a degree, a metric fuck-ton of hard work, a pretty great husband and one really rambunctious dog and you get: me. An actual, no-shit, writer. Who ran off and started her own content generation company that is actually growing and thriving and expanding beyond the dreams that she never even dared have.

I won't always say life is good. Sometimes life hands you shit and you have to keep your eyes on the prize. Sometimes the prize is just making through the day so you can say, "Well..fucked that day up right to hell. At least tomorrow is another chance to get it right".

But, most of the time this life of mine that resounds so loudly is like a carefully spun quarter: teetering, balancing, swaying from awesomeness to pain, but always spinning and moving and making me grateful.