Cherry red desk

We went to Ikea and bought a small red desk. I love the absurdity of its ridiculous maraschino red. Ikea was celebrating its 20th birthday, so we also got birthday cake. And the icing on the cake matched the desk colours. Perfect.

My desk fits neatly in the alcove between the sofa and the kitchen table. And somehow I fit my writing in between all my other activities and it brightens my days. It has wheels, so theoretically I could wheel my computer around and write all around the house. qqqqqq122222222222222222223v Here Special K sat down and interjected her thoughts. That’s one of the disadvantages of having this new ergonomic set up. My old chair was a bar stool. She still managed to climb up, but it was harder.

After Ikea we failed to go a friend’s games party, which was sad, because Special K crashed and fell asleep. Though it turned out to be a good thing, because she’s remained healthy…so far. (knock on wood)

The day after we went to a lovely fondue party, which Owlmoose blogged about. Unfortunately C was very tired and fell asleep, because Little T was up a lot….getting sick.

At the party I had a parent moment. You know one of those moments where a non-parent stares at you in utter bemusement. Little T urped all over himself and me. He was quite cheerful about it, so I just calmly set about changing him and trying to wipe myself down with a paper towel. I know before I had children, the thought would fill me with horror. But now it’s the screaming I can’t stand. And I know it can get a lot grosser and I was thankful it wasn’t.

Unfortunately my gratitude was short-lived. We’re now into day two of screaming and explosions from every orifice. My nanny is here. He’s finally gone to sleep. And I’m thinking sweet cherry red thoughts. I’m also taking a couple days off from writing. My writing is back in the NICU days, and I start to worry too much about his illness, even though he just has a stomach bug. At least I hope so. Knock on sweet cherry red desk.

Training Dumb machinery

Little T. is sick. I’m trying to dictate to my word document and it’s making a total mess of what I’m saying. Kerensa is crying in the background. not sure what she’s crying about exactly, but she’s sitting on the floor crying. It has been a very long weekend. We had a delightful time last night at the fondue party, but that’s now distant memory

Here’s what Microsoft made of it:

Little tea is set and trying to dictate to mind word document and is making a total amounts of what I’m saying Kerensa is crying in the background not sure what she’s crying about exactly what she’s sitting on the floor crime has been a very long weekends we had a delightful time last night’s at the forum to 40 that’s now distant memory

Mediamonkey makes me happy

My mediamonkey playlist got me back in the writing groove. I’m up to 18,690 words. I’m 60 words away from rewriting my book proposal.

Pulling up

It’s been an odd couple days

C’s friend has calmed down, but nothing has fundamentally changed, so I feel the situation is only just waiting to explode again.

I read and critiqued a friend’s novel that was wonderful, but also heart-wrenching.

I just joined a study that might actually help me with my dystonia. I’m scared to hope, but I can feel hope pressing against my chest.

Little T has started pulling up on everything. For weeks he would only lean up on the leather couch and haul himself up that way. He tried other places but couldn’t quite do it and would cry at me to help. I tried to help and he’d scream at me more. On Tuesday Special K and I were doing puzzles on the coffee table, Little T had to pull and see. With huge effort, he pulled up all on his own. Now he pulls up as he never had any problems and he’s working on cruising. All of this involves a lot of fussing and crying as he gets frustrated. He wants me to pick him up. I have a sprained ankle. I shouldn’t pick up a 19lb boy especially one who’s arching backwards. I relent more than I should. By about 6pm my patience has worn thin. C doesn’t get home until 7:30. I try not to go crazy before then. Some days I succeed.

I got no writing done yesterday as I was so worn out with dealing with Little T that I slept through most of the time the respite care worker was here. C really doesn’t understand how draining the constant crying is. Today I wrote about 300 words. I’m behind. I must borrow my quota from other days.

What I’ve been doing instead over the past couple days is to put together over 20 hours of music that makes me happy. We can play music on our Tivo, but without a playlist after a while, it mysteriously kicks back to Live TV. During the daytime that’s a lot of bad tv. Now I have music for parties too. I feel a real sense of accomplishment. I made the playlist using MediaMonkey, which also makes me happy — the name of the program that is.

Depressed?

Last night we went to a singing party with some friends where we sang songs, eat dinner and the kids ran around. I loved sitting with Little T on my lap and singing with him.

C says I’m depressed. He thinks I’m more sad about missing this writing workshop than I should be. I dunno. I always worry about missing opportunities. I don’t really have a good way to evaluate what I really need right now.

What I do know is that I keep writing. My non-fiction book is up to 17,808 words. I’m behind on my 500 word count today, but I’m more than ahead from other days.

Both Special K and Little T are wearing one sock.

Seems like a good time to do this meme:

Name 10 small things for which you’re grateful

1. My sprained ankle is slowly healing, so I can walk around the house now.
2. The top of Little T’s shoulder is now normal and not tumor.
3. Special K is over her cold.
4. Little T can wear little boy pants
5. Eating ripe organic bananas
6. Special K shuts the door to the bathroom so Little T can’t go exploring there.
7. A nice hot cup of tea
8. Little T has started to look at books on his own just like big sis Special K
9. C has been getting together with some old friends.
10. After several “web site is down”, I can finally pay my American Express card bill online.

I hate tagging people, but please carry on the meme if you feel so moved.

Waning moon

It’s a waning moon and very bad stuff is going down with a friend of C’s. C is helping as best he can and he can’t take the kids along. So I can’t be gone for hours and hours next weekend. My ankle’s slowly getting better, but not better enough to navigate the extensive walking needed for public transportation. I can’t drive that far. It also turns out that none of the other participants is coming down from the peninsula, so I can’t get a ride. Bottom line: I can’t go to the writing workshop next week. I’m really bummed about it, but it wasn’t meant to be right now. One bad thing happening, okay? But three things are coinciding to make this not happen. There will be other workshops. This is a fiction workshop. And my current obssession is my non-fiction book.

I could sort of it see it coming when I sprained my ankle. I figured that sweetie that he is, C would drive me if it came down it. But it just felt a chain of events had been set in motion. Don’t get me wrong. I do believe in free will. But I also believe in chaos theory. I believe a butterfly’s wing can change the pattern of the weather in the amazon three thousand miles away.

Number of the beast

I got spam today. For the pet who has everything, now you can get it a cell phone.

My nonfiction book is now at 16,666. Well a little over.

Lame

We had company over which was lovely. My friends had a nice lunch in my garden while the CCS social worker did her session with Little T inside. She showed me why Little T will pull up in certain places, but not others. It made perfect sense when she explained it, but I’d have to think about on my own. I don’t think very well spatially.

I wrote 500 words today up to 15,325. I’m totally obssessed with my non-fiction book. But after having a good talk with Jenny last night, I know I’m in a down phase. I really hate spraining my ankle. Bad stuff from my childhood. I feel it’s a moral failing. I’m literally and figuratively lame. It’s okay to be disabled as long as I’m not limping around. It’s okay to be disabled as long it’s partially hidden. It’s worse and better that my ankles are hyperflexible because of my disability. At least I know it’s not just because I’m a total klutz.

I hate having to literally have to count each step I make. I started to tell her it was the writing that was killing me. Guilt about that coming out. But actually I was feeling pretty good before I sprained my ankle. I was getting stray projects done like getting rid of books. As she kept telling me, I was getting my groove back. It’s hard to groove when you’re lame.

But after I said some stuff that out loud to her and blogging more stuff here, I feel a bit more free. I don’t want to pass on this crud on to Little T. I sprain my ankle about once a year. Last year I was 8 months pregnant with Little T, so it’s a lot easier this time around. Maybe this time I’ll do my exercises better or something and I’ll avoid it for longer. But I just have to face up to the fact that at least for the foreseeable future, it’s part of who I am. It’s part of the me that jerks. It’s part of me that can’t drive on the highway. I just do the best I can with the body I’ve got.

Special K seems largely unaffected by my lameness. She can now dress herself, get her own food, go to the bathroom, and play. She does need some help, but it’s not like last year where she was frustrated and hobbled by my injury. Little T is too young to care. He just wants to be picked up. But I’m asking for more help this time. Next year will be better too. Little T will be able to do more. Special K too. I’m not sure what it is about this time of year that causes ankle sprains. I’ll have to think about that. Got any ideas?

Lost

I wrote 1000 words today so my non-fiction book is up to 14,800 words.

I’m enjoying Season 1 of “Lost” on DVD. I just got a membership with Blockbuster Online. At the store, Blockhead has a one-month trial membership for $9.99, 3 DVDs out a time, unlimited DVDS. Membership includes coupons for two free in-store rentals a month. Pretty good deal, at least for a month.

However “Lost” gets a little repetitive. Stop now if you don’t want Season 1 spoilers. For example, we learn that Sawyer’s dad killed his mother and then killed himself after a grifter swindled Sawyer’s mother. Then a few episodes later, we actually see the scene. Gratuitous. We already know that it made Sawyer very very sad. Similarly we see several scenes in which we learn that Jin beats up people for Sun’s dad the mafia boss and he hates it. Also weird things happen that surprise me, but so far the characters themselves haven’t surprised me. Now in the “Sopranos”, the characters themselves do things that surprise me while still acting entirely in character. Now that’s really really cool. I hope I write like that.

Ghost of blogs past

From akienm:
1. Delve into your blog archive.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.

From Grief and not eating “Intellectually I know that he’s actually getting all the nutrition he needs via tube and he has large reserves of fat.” He’s still getting most of his nutrition via tube and most of his fat reserves are gone. Yet he continues to grow. He gets stronger every day.

But to be honest, I still struggle with his eating issues. It doesn’t loom as large as it did in May. I no longer fear that he wants to die. “But I still mourn the fact that he no longer breastfeeds.” That’s still true. But gradually my mourning became less constant. Like any type of loss, I became reminded less often.

And right now he’s forcibly telling me that he’s fiercely attached to me as he demands that I hold him while he goes to sleep. Gimpy as I am, I oblige. Though no standing and rocking today.