Monthly Archives: February 2016

Heart Ache

I was going to write a post about how I now am the mother of a one-year-old.  I was going to tell stories about how she was so excited about unwrapping her presents that she repeatedly hit me in the face as she tore the paper or how she was so disgusted by the frosting on her cupcake that she wiped it off and smeared it on my hand in an attempt to get rid of it.

I was going to talk about how her birthday was a pretty good day, despite the fact that she decided to share the stomach bug that hit her last Sunday.

There were sirens down the street shortly after I went to bed.  I live just off of a major street, so I didn’t really think anything of it.  I frequently hear sirens at night.  I woke up at about 2:30 feeling more than a little nauseated.  (Like I sad, Mommy’s Little Vector shared her germs.) I checked Facebook before trying to fall back asleep.  And that’s when I saw the news.

Mass shooting.  In my hometown.  Those sirens?  Responders going to one of the scenes.  Yes, everyone I know is safe, but several other people aren’t.  (Six killed at last report.  More injured.)

I had a hard time falling asleep after that.  Kalamazoo has its share of problems.  Gangs, drugs, poverty.  But in general, it’s pretty safe from the random acts of violence that plague other cities.

But not last night.  

I have a one-year-old.  And I’m grateful we were home, safe, last night.


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Happy Valentine’s Day

I’m at loose ends today.  Or at least right now.  Anna is in the middle (?) of a massive nap.  She took a long one yesterday, too, but most of that one was on my.  Not that I was complaining.  At least until I had to go to the bathroom…

Today, she’s in her crib.  She squawked once but was still asleep when I went to check on her.

So here I am, trying to remember what one does when not entertaining a nearly-one-year-old.  

Hope you all have had a peaceful day.  Mine started out normally, became eventful when Anna spit up all over her high chair*, and has settled into a quiet afternoon.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

*Thanks, Mommy!  I really appreciate you coming over this morning to snuggle with Anna while I cleaned up the mess.


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It Gets Better, But It Doesn’t Always Feel That Way

Spoiler Alert:  This blog post discusses the most recent episode of The Good Wife, which in turn relates to some events from previous seasons.  If you’re not caught up, you might want to save this post until you are. 

At some point this afternoon, the weight descended on my chest.  I couldn’t figure out why, what had triggered it.  At least not at first.  The day had been relatively okay up until that point.  I’ve been doing yoga almost every day at work since December, and it really has helped me, well, breathe.  I’d done my yoga routine earlier, so it wasn’t because I’d decided to skip it.

I did figure it out.  When I was at the Alliance meeting back in January, there was this awesome session about making connections with other women in the field.  (We applauded the one man who came and stayed for the entire thing.)  Our table was having such a good time talking that our table moderator collected names and email addresses.  We’ve been sending introductory letters, personal and professional.  I wrote mine today.  And part of the personal side of things, of course, mentioned Sofia.  And the fact that Anna is going to be one in two weeks.  And then I couldn’t breathe anymore.  At least not easily.  Like I said, the weight descended on my chest, and I just felt sad.

The Good Wife continues to be one of my favorite shows.  This season has been rough for Alicia.  I can relate.  Grieving is not a straight line.  Now and then it comes back and smacks you in the face.  (And apparently, if you’re Alicia, makes you want to drink a pitcher of margaritas.  Don’t get me wrong.  I like a margarita.  But they aren’t my cocktail of choice.  I’m more of a martini-with-a-twist-not-an-olive girl.)  This week’s episode is on the whimsical side of things, except for one scene in particular, when Alicia finally breaks down.  When she finally tells Lucca that she’s scared, that she can’t breathe, that she just wishes it all would end.  And Lucca hugs her and then asks her if she has any guns in the house.

Lucca’s response is exactly right.  It’s what you want your friends to say.  But I understood what Alicia is saying.  I’ve said the same things.  How I just want it to stop.  How I don’t want to be here anymore.  But it wasn’t that I wanted to be dead.  I wanted to be where these feelings weren’t.  I wanted to be able to run away.  And that’s how I heard Alicia’s side of the dialogue.

When Will was killed, I said that if anyone was going to get grief right on TV, it was the Kings.  I think they’re still doing a pretty fine job of it.

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