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  • Dissolved
  • Two new delights
  • Less noise, more me
  • Good times
  • Not Ken’s Dream House
  • The joy of different
  • This must be the place
  • All of the feels
  • Life update: endings and beginnings
  • Adapting to the lasts
  • At the same time
  • Take a picture it’ll last longer
  • Horsin’ around
  • Surrender, Dorothy
  • College let-go

Archives from 2002-2006

• I . . . well, there’s no good way to say it so I’ll just get it out as quickly as possible: I got sucked into Twitter. I know. I KNOW.

• New post up at Gather, with ridiculous photos.

• JB has long declared his dislike for pandas, the animal that won’t screw to save its own species. I made him watch the video on this page so I could be all, I bet you like pandas NOW! Because how could you NOT? And he looked at me like, you dumbass. That business of acting all cute and friendly is totally a ploy so they can get close enough to eat off all your face-meat, one hunk at a time.

• I forgot how much I hate the stage babies go through where they randomly stick their own fingers down their throats. Gag me with a LAWNMOWER, Dylan, knock that shit off.

Riley seems to be dealing with some lingering effects of being sick, at least we suspect he’s still not feeling 100% but it’s impossible to tell for sure. He’s been more moody than normal, prone to insane outbursts of crying and sorrowful episodes where he just sort of drapes himself over the furniture, lays his head onto his blanket, and sniffles “no” in response to every question we ask. I wish I could run some sort of Star-Trek-esque diagnostic machine over him, something that would tell me whether his system is still sub-par or if he’s just getting a jump start on his teen years. If he were constantly acting weird, I’d take him to the doctor, but lots of the time he seems totally fine, his regular old spirited/chattery self, and I don’t know, maybe we’re just going through one of those awful toddler stages?

Adding to the Possible Mysterious Illness mix, Dylan barfed a couple times yesterday and then had himself a, um, Diaper of Horror, which had me drumming my fingers and staring fixedly at him and trying to figure out if he looked sick, while he remained relentlessly cheery and bright-eyed and coo-ey and temperature-free.

So maybe our household is rife with disease at the moment, and maybe everything is perfectly normal. I have no idea, but it is stressing me right the fuck OUT. In the midst of dealing with the maybe-sick, maybe-not children yesterday I happened to read a nightmarish story about a mother whose 6-month-old became feverish one night and they took him in to the ER where they were sent back home with a flu diagnosis and after he continued to get worse they took him back to the doctor where he DIED OF MENINGITIS IN HER ARMS TWO HOURS LATER, and I’m really sorry I just shared that with you but I can’t stop thinking about it and feeling something like a full-body freakout because oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

I don’t know how to mitigate the Parental Anxiety when it descends. Most of the time I feel like I’m a fairly low-key mom, I don’t stress too much about things that are out of my control or that aren’t worth my energy, but sometimes . . . man, sometimes the act of loving someone can be nearly unbearable, because there is so goddamn much to lose.

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