Sunday, February 25, 2018

after an entire year (gasp!) of no posts, i'm back with another birth story. if you don't like birth stories (with all the gross details), then be warned.

March 11, 2017

I was a day past my due date, and at 11 PM, I started having regular contractions. Well, what I thought were probably contractions. They weren't hugely painful or anything, but painful enough that I thought "This could be it. I could be going into labor.  If I am then I'll probably have my baby tomorrow morning. On my son's second birthday." I kept an eye on the contractions all night, and they stayed consistently 5-7 minutes apart, but were not consistently a minute in length.

March 12, 2017

I was two days past my due date. In the morning, I had some bloody show and thought, "Well, crap." So I called my doctor and she told me that if I was in labor, I was likely not close enough to warrant coming in since I was only a half cm dilated at my last appointment. But things were moving! She told me to call her when the contractions lasted for a minute each.

So I went along with my day. I had made Grover and Big Bird cupcakes for Cricket's birthday. We were going over to my parents' house where my dad was making a turkey dinner. (More because he had been out of the country for a while and came back to find he still had a turkey in his freezer that needed to be eaten than because it was Cricket's birthday.) We loaded the toddler and the cupcakes into the car, started driving, and I almost fainted. I couldn't breathe, my vision started going black, I was dizzy and nauseous and ready to jump out of the car. Or, open the door and topple out into the road just so I could be out of it. I felt like I was suffocating. So we went to the hospital instead.

All of my vitals were normal, I was only 1 cm dilated, and my cervix was still really high. So they gave me some graham crackers and some apple juice, had me wait around in a bed for a while to make sure I was really okay, and then sent me on my way. Halfway to my parents house, I couldn't breathe, my vision started going black, etc etc. Not wanting to go to the hospital again, though, I just fought it until we got to my parents' house (with a very concerned husband and freaked out toddler). I started to feel better at my parents'. We ate turkey. We ate cupcakes. We sang happy birthday. I only felt a few contractions during the whole visit and thought, "Huh. Guess it was a false alarm." My mom offered to spend the night at our house so she could stay with Cricket if I needed to get to the hospital, but I didn't think it was necessary. We made plans for her to stop by at 730 the next morning after dropping my brothers off at school.

That night, though, the contractions came back. Getting stronger. Getting longer. Getting closer together.  I didn't want to wake up my husband when he had work the next morning or have my mom drive all the way over in the middle of the night for another false alarm, so I just kept an eye on them.

March 13, 2017

I sat on my bed, the bathroom light slicing through the darkness of my room, rocking through contractions, timing them on my phone, wondering if I should bother people yet or not. I was always told that you should head to the hospital when you had to stop to breathe through the contractions. By the time that happened, they were just under three minutes apart.

I called my mom, who immediately headed over to my house. I called my doctor, who said, "I've been waiting all day for you to call. I told you to come in when they were a minute long (which had happened hours and hours before). Get to the hospital. I'll meet you there." I packed my hospital bag and got dressed. By this point, things were starting to get painful, and I was thinking longingly of the epidural waiting for me at the hospital. I kept calling my mom to see where she was. I went down to wait in the car. Eventually, my mom said she was five minutes away and to just go. I had a panic attack thinking of leaving Cricket in the house alone, for even a minute, but it was getting really uncomfortable waiting in the car, and I really wanted those drugs. My mom pulled into our neighborhood as we pulled out of it.

We get to the hospital, and I tell my husband to drop me off at the door to the ER and go park. I tell the guy at the reception desk that I was having a baby, and he said, "Like, right now?!" I said, "haha no, can you imagine? I think I'm probably at a 5." So he tells me to wait and he'll have someone bring a wheelchair to take me up since I was clearly feeling the regular contractions.

I get up to my room, and they hook me up to the monitors at 3:58 AM and start asking me all the registration questions. The first thing I said was, "I'd like an epidural." So while one nurse asked me questions, another checked me and said, "Um... we'll try to get you one." I asked how far along I was, but she wouldn't tell me. All she would say was, "You've progressed from the morning." That's when I started to get nervous. She went to try and get the anesthesiologist and I asked another nurse, Karen, how far along I was. She checked me, gave me a little look that let me know I was screwed, and told me I was at 9. Maybe a little past.

That's when the panic hit. "I can't be at 9. I wanted drugs. I need drugs. I can't have a baby without drugs," I told her frantically. She assured me that they'd try their best to get me an epidural. My OB still hadn't made it to the hospital. Karen kept telling me about the on call doctor, but I didn't realize why until after the fact. I talked with Karen about my stupidity about wanting to wait to come in at 7 so I wouldn't wake anyone up. She told me that with her fourth baby, she did the same thing, and then got stuck in rush hour on the way to the hospital and had her baby at the side of the road.

My doctor still wasn't there. The epidural still wasn't there. And suddenly, it was time to push.

Just as I started pushing, my doctor raced into the room. She didn't even have time to get her scrubs on. As I screamed at her that I wanted drugs, she told me that she told me to come in earlier. I remember screaming "I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this." I remember my doctor saying I didn't have much of a choice. I remember my water bursting, and my doctor telling me to try and stay still because she had her normal shoes on and didn't want them to get splashed. I remember Karen being endlessly encouraging. I remember snapping at my doctor and yelling at her, and her saying, "Why are you nice to the nurses but mean to me?" (I realize that she sort of sounds like a bitch, but she's really not. And I love her. And it's kind of our thing.) I remember screaming, "I WANT DRUGSSSS!"

At 4:29 AM, screaming louder than I thought I ever would in a public place, I delivered a healthy baby boy. The first words out of the doctor's mouth were, "Look at that noggin!" He was 7 lbs 4 oz and 21 inches. I felt every stitch as my doctor stitched me up, and resentfully told her afterwards, to which she replied with exasperation, "You should have said something! That is a pain you didn't have to feel." I remember feeling spent and proud and incredulous.

The nurses at the hospital (Karen for labor, Jessica in the maternity ward) were amazing. Just like my last delivery. My mom stayed with me in the hospital while my husband went home with Cricket. Cricket came to see his brother that day, and it was the most heartwarming moment of my life. Ducky (baby number 2) wanted to nurse all. freaking. night. But I was used to not sleeping from Cricket, and had actually gotten to nap during the day, and was still feeling a little euphoric. I remember Jessica saying, "I can't believe you can still smile at the nurses after not sleeping all night." And all I could think was, "Oh my God. I did it."

February 25, 2018

In a little over two weeks, Ducky will turn one year old. This year has absolutely flown by. He has such a big personality, adores his brother more than anyone else, and lets you know exactly what he wants. He's sweet and funny and eager to copy his brother. The year has had its ups and downs, but he is such a blessing, and we couldn't be happier that he joined our family.

And was not born in the car.  

Monday, October 3, 2016

laugh about it, shout about it

as the world turns into a crunchy-leaves-pumpkin-everything-sweaters-and-scarves-oh-look-a-skeleton whirlwind, i can't help but feel the tingling excitement of fall arriving myself. and while i love a pumpkin bagel as much as the next person and wait all year for hoodie weather to hit, i have to say that the thing i'm most excited for is that little voice in the back of my head, the itch in my fingers, that tells me that it is time to write.

i have been exhausted lately. like falling asleep at eight kind of tired. a toddler and a pregnancy will do that to you. but more than once in the past few days i have been overcome by the urge to write. the spark of something right on the very edge of my mind, that will only come into focus if i put fingers to keyboard. unfortunately, i haven't actually done much writing. you know, because of that whole exhausted-toddler-pregnancy thing i was just talking about plus about a million and three other things going on in my life right now that can all be thrown into the "oh my god why is this so stressful?" drawer. but fall means november. and november means nanowrimo. and nanowrimo means the one month a year that i allow myself to put my writing first. to ignore everything else that needs to be done and churn out a couple of thousand words a day. and i. am. ready.

i have my story premise, a sort of almost plot, a nearly complete main character and the urge to write. the urge is strong. the words are there. the inspiration is waiting. i just need the time. i can't wait. i'm even looking forward to the annoying dry spells when my story suddenly seems like the worst thing to ever hit a word processor and i'm cursing my brain for ever thinking it was worth my time and energy and i am trying to learn magic to pull words out of a hat because i certainly can't find anymore inside of me. that's how desperate i am to start writing again.

in other news, this pregnancy is almost half finished and i have honestly forgotten that i was pregnant for a good chunk of it. like, one day a few weeks ago, i was in the middle of a few really stressful things when one thing led to another and i thought "oh crap, what if i'm pregnant? i can't be pregnant right now! how will i tell my husband?! there's too much going on!" i was in the bathroom getting ready to pee on a stick when i remembered that, oh yeah, i am pregnant. i already knew that. duh.

surprisingly, all of this stuff has not been as bad on my schoolwork as i would have thought it would be. i mean, yes, okay, i didn't get anywhere near the amount of stuff done in september that i had planned to (really, nowhere close to my optimistically stupid summer me wanted), but i still feel like i have a pretty concrete idea of where i'm going. no wandering alone, lost in the woods of academia feeling for me. i may not be as passionate about this new topic as i was about previous ones, but i have to say, this feeling of knowing what i have to do and where i have to go next is actually pretty good.

the weather is cooling down. i may actually be able to finish this stupid degree which i honestly wasn't sure about last year. i have started to feel baby kicks and turns... i may be sleep deprived and stressed and stretched way too thin, but it is october. and i have the urge to write. and i think things are starting to look up again.

*Mrs. Robinson - Simon and Garfunkel

Monday, September 19, 2016

hey look! a new post!

while you take a minute to pick your jaw up off the floor and dust off your memories about who i am and why you liked to listen to me ramble (through your eyeballs...), let me catch you up on what i've been doing since the last time i checked in here.

[one] i am still dragging my feet on this whole phd thing. (surprise surprise.) but i changed my topic for, hopefully, the last time, and as long as i can manage to carve out some me time to work on this, i should actually be able to finish this stupid thing. fingers crossed.

[two] i am pregnant again! yup, in a few months cricket will have a brand new sibling, ducky. we still don't know the sex. we still can't settle on any girl names. i have complete confidence that cricket will be an amazing older brother.

[three] i tried this recipe for pumpkin banana bread and i was so excited for it and it was such a disappointment. like, i don't think i've been that disappointed in food in such a long time.

[four] i actually did manage to finish that poetry chapbook a couple months back (all the surprise from before with none of the sarcasm) and submitted it to a couple of contests. (that's a lie. i submitted it to one contest. my dream poetry publishing place, which i will likely not win, but i didn't want to risk any slight change chance i had by simultaneous submissions and by some miracle getting picked up by somewhere that is not my dream. so.) when i lose this one contest then there are a few edits i want to make to the collection before sending it out to other places (which are already carefully chosen). if (read:when) i don't get it in anywhere from the list then i have a mass list compiled of places that i should just start sending it to to cover all my bases.

[five] the past few months have been straight out of a sitcom/movie where the main theme is "what ELSE could go wrong?" the answer: everything. i have so much stress overwhelming me these days that i don't even know what to do with myself. except to keep moving. i must keep moving, or else i will be buried.

so i'm sitting at mason, just like the good old days that never freaking ended and turned into the good lord what am i still doing here days, and i was meaning to write this fabulous amazing blog post (because i should be reading a technical article but my brain has given up on life), and just as i started the floor i'm on got SO. LOUD. like, i'm not sure what happened, but i would really like these dudes to shut up. they are disturbing my peace. and my day was super long (and included being drenched in the rain walking around DC for over an hour) so the steam that i had coming into this thing has completely fizzled. so instead of a fabulous amazing post, this pathetic catch up post will have to suffice.

but i have mason days where i need to work, so i think i may be hanging around here a bit more than i have been. gotta say, i've missed it. i always do. 

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

you know what i really want to do? i want to take some time, a year at least, and just really focus on my writing. writing has always been what i want to do with my life, and i feel like i owe it to it and myself to actually try it for real. i want to get a babysitter for a few hours a day and force myself to write and edit and just do this thing already. i want to turn writing into a career. 

and i know that there are so many authors that balance their writing with their day job, but i find it really hard when i don't have a real "day job." all of my roles overlap too much. my day has no real structure. i do the whole stay at home mom thing with the keeping a kid alive and doing cleaning and laundry and stuff (which, if i'm being honest, is the bane of my existence. the domestic chores, not the kid. the kid is the light of my life.) and throughout my day i throw in all of my TAing stuff (answering emails, grading papers, having appointments, etc), and - while admittedly less than i should be - do my dissertation research stuff, and do everything everything that goes hand in hand with being a professional people pleaser. 

part of me has always sort of wanted to be one of those people that moves to saudi arabia for one reason or another and then complains about there being nothing to do and feeling trapped in the house. i always secretly harbored the thought that, if i was stuck at home all day, i would get so much writing done. i convinced myself that that was exactly what i needed. 

in reality, though, that's not what i need at all. i am the queen of doing nothing all day. stick me in a house with internet and i will waste my life on tumblr and netflix. take away the internet and i'll lose myself in books. i'll stare at a wall. i'll eat my weight in junk food. what i won't do, though, is what i "should" be doing. 

what i really need is structure. 

i have actually added a little bit of structure to my day, and it's amazing. after breakfast every morning, i let the rabbit out to play with the baby and i wash dishes slash clean the kitchen. it's small, and to a normal person laughable, but i haven't had a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink in a while, and it feels great. so what i think i need to do is start structuring in writing. i'll structure in TAing and studenting and people pleasing. i will no longer have loose, flowy, do whatever days, because obviously i am not responsible enough for that.

Monday, April 18, 2016

now it's time for me to take control

my birthday snuck (i know the right word is sneaked. i still like snuck) up on me this year. it was one of those times when you are forced to realize that even when world-stopping things happen, time moves on. i had just caught my balance the other day. sure, i was still reeling a bit, but i was stable for the most part and ready for life to start up again. you can imagine my surprise when my husband asked, "so what do you want to do for your birthday?" and i was hit by the fact that life had never stopped just because i thought it should. it had continued on, ready or not. (don't you hate it when people allude to some big life-changing thing that happened and then never actually tell you what it is? yeah, me too.)

luckily for me, i'm pretty sure there is no one left here to be annoyed by my lack of telling. (i mean, an entire year of sporadic blogging. goodness. the thing is, in my head i had never "stopped blogging." like, i can't even really wrap my head around the idea that so much time has passed between posts. occasionally i come on here and write up a draft, so maybe that's why i feel like i never stopped? or it may be because time for me has lost all meaning so honestly, a year is the same as an hour is the same as a month. and by that logic, it really hasn't been so long.)

anyway, back to my birthday. despite my sporadic posting, there was no way that i couldn't come back here and write a birthday post. this morning i woke up in an ugh mood, but instead of letting outside forces dictate my mood and ruin my birthday, i decided to take action. so as soon as cricket woke up, i got him dressed and took him to ihop for a birthday breakfast of cupcake pancakes. it helped.

that simple action is going to play into the theme for the upcoming year, but i'll get to that in a minute.

i think that one of my most defining characteristics is that i am a people-pleaser. one hundred percent. i know every single way that this has been helpful and self-destructive in my life, and i cannot change it anymore that i can change my brown eyes or love for reading. it is embedded deep within what makes me me, for better or for worse.

due to my pleasing people all the time, i have pushed a lot of my own things to the back burner. when my ship starts to sink, the first things that i throw overboard are mine. this year, i'm pulling myself out of second place. this will be the year of me.

last year, when things got stressful with a new baby and family drama and just, life, i dropped reading and writing. and while i love reading, writing is part of who i am. it is how i work through everything. it is how i celebrate and how i mourn, and stopping writing felt like i had completely lost myself. i woke up one morning without my identity, and it was like i had woken up without the ability to breathe. i was floundering, but there was no time or space to flounder because there were things to do, and people to please. so i kept pushing it aside and pushing it aside, and having a series of mental breakdowns to my husband, and then one day i decided that enough was enough.

i have always dreamed of being published, and so after doing nanowrimo and writing through some depression crap (my story was literally about depression, but it was like a separate world type thing that at first seemed like magic? and then there was this giant-winged-cliche-shadow beast? and a girl got trapped? and there was a lot of self-isolation and very thin metaphors and it was just... i want to say really bad but i also kind of love it.) and writing a bunch of poems/scenes into my phone, i decided to come up with a defined goal.

my writing goal is to write a poetry chapbook and then send it out slash enter it into contests. i will complete this by the end of the year and i will feel like i have done something. something only for me.

and everyone else can kick rocks. i am done with them.

just kidding, i'll still be over here people pleasing, because that is what i do. and obviously the whole putting myself first thing will not be an always kind of thing, but will be an overarching part of everything this year. the thought that i have stuck to the door of the refrigerator in my mind. i have worn myself thin for others, and now it's time to collect myself and do it for me.

*On My Own - Whitney Houston

Saturday, January 2, 2016

so before i had cricket, i had resigned myself to the fact that i would spend the next few years of my life without getting lost in books. i had heard, "i used to read, but then i had kids, and you know, you really can't anymore," so many times that i had accepted it as absolute truth. but then i had him and learned something about myself. i learned that a lot of the time, i will choose books over tv. i will choose books over movies. i will choose books over sleep. i will choose books over music (i went from music in the car to audiobooks. it's awesome.) it may take me longer to get through books, i may have to put it down way more often than i like, but i still pick then back up again (most of the time). i had kids, and i did not give up my stories.

so, without further ado, here's a post about my 2015 books. when i realized i was still reading, my goal was to read 15 books. i surpassed that, obviously.

my list of books that i read this year (mostly in the order that i read them in):
bold: favorites of the year
italics: this was a bad book and i read it so that you don't have to
*: disappointing (this doesn't necessarily mean that it was bad)
anything linked goes to my review of the book on goodreads

  1. Pwned by Matt Vancil
  2. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline *
  3. Dragon Run by Patrick Matthews
  4. Hey Natalie Jean by Natalie Holbrook *
  5. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
  6. Six Moon Summer by SM Reine
  7. All Hallows' Moon by SM Reine
  8. Long Night Moon by SM Reine
  9. Gray Moon Rising by SM Reine
  10. Falling for Hamlet by Michelle Ray
  11. Emma and Elsie Meet Fitzwilliam Darcy by Maddy Raven and Monica Leonelle *
  12. The Demon King by Cinda Williams Chima
  13. The Exiled Queen by Cinda Williams Chima
  14. The Gray Wolf Throne by Cinda Williams Chima
  15. The Crimson Crown by Cinda Williams Chima
  16. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by JK Rowling (reread)
  17. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by JK Rowling (reread)
  18. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by JK Rowling (reread) 
  19. Home by Clementine von Radics
  20. Mouthful of Forevers by Clementine von Radics
  21. Healing Old Wounds with New Stitches by Meggie Royer
  22. The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman (audiobook) (reread)
  23. Wings of Fire: The Brightest Night by Tui T. Sutherland
  24. The Boyfriend List by E. Lockhart (audiobook)
  25. Love, Rosie by Celia Ahern
  26. The Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet by Katie Rorick
  27. A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray (audiobook) (reread)
  28. Rebel Angels by Libba Bray (audiobook) (reread)
  29. The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray (audiobook) (reread)
  30. The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness
  31. Deception Point by Dan Brown (audiobook)
  32. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell
  33. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell (reread)
  34. Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell (reread)
  35. Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephenie Perkins *
  36. Anna and the French Kiss by Stephenie Perkins (reread)
  37. Lola and the Boy Next Door by Stephenie Perkins (reread)
  38. Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephenie Perkins (reread)
  39. Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl *
  40. Dramarama by E. Lockhart (audiobook) *
  41. Stargirl by Jerry Spineli (audiobook)
and i started but have yet to finish:
  1. Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein
  2. Beauty Queens by Libba Bray *
  3. Emotional Vampires: Dealing with People Who Drain You Dry by Albert J Bernstein
stats (only counting the completed books):

75.6% of the books read were YA or middle-grade books (this year i'm thinking of reading for my age group more)
7% were poetry 
29% were rereads
80% of my favorite books of the year were rereads
43.9% were standalone books


i feel like i have to talk about the seven realms series (the chima books). i had so many issues with the writing and the consistency and the wasted potential of the characters and the predictability and just so many things, but it took me almost all summer to get through them because i was traveling and mothering and stuff, and by the time i was ending the series, i was legit sad. after spending so much time with these characters, i had fallen in love with them. i read the books on the kindle app on my phone, but i feel like they now deserve a place on my shelves. i just can't bring myself to buy the series again when there wasn't much difference in price between the ebooks and hard copies. anyway, i wasn't sure if i should bold it or not because i did love them, but i also really didn't. 

isla was another one that i was on the fence about. i remember being over a third of the way into the book and thinking "there is no tension!" (which was actually very helpful because that's always been a problem for me (starting the book too soon) and i never really knew how to fix it but seeing it in someone else's work was a very a-ha moment) and then when the "tension" hit i couldn't get over how contrived and stupid the problem was. but i still liked it? i dunno. i reread the rest of the series to see if that changed anything, but it actually did more damage than good because it made me see how problematic things in the other books were, and those were my go-to fluff in times of stress and now they're ruined. sigh. 

overall, though the titles are every bit as embarrassing as usual (and by that i mean you should all wish to have my taste in books), i'm actually pretty proud of the number of books i managed to get through. honestly, it would have been more if i didn't drag out the bad books because i refused to just put them down but couldn't seem to pick them up either. next year i'm hoping to branch out a bit. i'm also planning on getting through the books that i keep buying but not reading. my to-be-read list is getting a bit ridiculous. i think those two hopes may be contradictory. 

Thursday, December 31, 2015

so apparently it's new year's eve. my exciting plans for the evening include trying to sleep and comforting a teething nine month old. i'm sure you're very jealous. i'm going to come back next week and do some sort of yearly round-up just because this was a big year, and i'm too tired to write anything right now, but i felt like i should post something tonight.


a few days ago i watched the new star wars movie. now, i had somehow managed to not watch any star wars movies before then, and i don't know if any of you are familiar with those youtube videos where they ask someone who hasn't watched a movie to describe the plot of the movie, but i was pretty much one of those people. i knew very little, and what i did know was very mixed up. (i found out after the movie that anakin skywalker turned into darth vader, and i think i should have known that? maybe i did know that and forgot? anyway.) SPOILER and i dunno, but at the end of the movie, when a character died, i felt really jipped (gypped) because i just got to know you how dare you die already? and now i feel like i need to watch all the other star wars and i'm kind of annoyed by that because i don't have time for that.

anyway, hope you all have a great start to the new year. 

Sunday, December 27, 2015

all of our plans have fallen through

i used to sit in the same spot in my apartment for days, barely moving, staring at a screen of some sort nonstop, and if a bird flew by my window i would think, "wow! a bird! just flew past my window! this must be magic! something has happened! i should blog about it! amazing!" now that is obviously an exaggeration, but at the same time, it really isn't. how many blog posts have i written that ramble on about nothing? dropped contact lenses and boring grad school lectures and lunch dates were all things that, at one point, deserved to be preserved in writing. and now... nothing. things happen and all i do is get through them and never look back. i don't like it.

one of the points that i seem to whine about repeatedly is how much i don't like the hype about new year's. i just... don't like it. it's always my birthday that feels like the fresh start for me. that deserves resolutions and looking back and a clean slate. new year's has always just been the sign that the vacation is nearly over, that projects need to be completed and work needs to be done and oh my god how did i let myself procrastinate this much? 

but maybe i need a stupid day that has been given a false sense of importance right now. maybe i need a january first to get myself back into writing.

(but, really, i may have a lot of posts about new year's and even more posts about nothing, but those are nothing compared to the number of posts i have where i declare that i am going to do something and then never do it. a lot of those declarations have to do with writing. and who am i kidding? what makes this any different? although, i would like to say here officially that despite the fact that my word count tracker didn't appear on my blog this year and i didn't blog about nano, i did write consistently every day for the month of november (better than any other year) and ended the month with over fifty thousand new words of fiction to my name, but that's neither here nor there.)

i feel like i am overusing the word "but." 

in the spirit of writing about what happens in my life, even if that "what" is nothing, my siblings minus the one living with her family halfway across the world all came to stay over at my house for christmas break (basically wednesday through this morning). we had a bunch of plans for the weekend. we were going to have fun. and then two out of three of my siblings were hit by a stomach bug (i'm guessing the same one that cricket and then my dad suffered from in the past couple of weeks) and suddenly the weekend turned into delivering gatorade and chicken noodle soup and doing laundry. the best laid plans and all of that... 

*The Way It Was - The Killers

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

i'm down in the living room, just me and darcy. the baby is in his bed, asleep. the husband is in his bed, asleep. a silence hangs over the house, and i feel like i'm in a million different times at once, like every small timeline of my life intersects here. i am a high school senior sitting on my bed. the glow of the tv bright in the darkness. i am a college student on the same bed, in the same dark, with a different glowing screen, six msn messenger conversations open. i am sitting in a small apartment. the ring on my finger is new, but the silence and the darkness are old, familiar. i am a mother, and though the darkness is wearing a cloak of recess lighting, the silence is still here, welcoming. 

my life often seems like a series of endless loops, some bigger than others. there are the small loops: build a tower, clap as baby knocks it down. build a tower, clap as baby knocks it down. build a tower. there are the bigger loops, like the one that finds me hiding under my blankets with a tear-streaked face again and again and again. and there are these, the loops that you wouldn't recognize as loops unless you look at the whole picture, see the whole timeline stretched out before you. and as loops go, if i am to constantly find myself with only the darkness and silence of night as my companions, well, it's not a bad loop to be stuck in. 

i have not blogged in nearly two months. most days it seems like there is nothing to write that is worth the time i could be doing something else. most days i am not sitting in my living room alone at night. most days the older versions of myself are not at the surface, not flowing through my veins, not breathing through my lungs. 

i used to think that, to come back to this blog, even sure that no one still read it, i needed something big. i should only come back if i have something worth saying. tonight, i should blog because i never stopped blogging. tonight, i should read harry potter fanfiction. tonight, i should talk to friends. tonight, i should fall in love or make someone fall in love with me. tonight, i should watch reruns of 90s television. tonight, i should wash bottles. tonight, i should do the same thing i did last night and the same thing that i'll do tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. 

Saturday, October 17, 2015

there's another world we're living in tonight

[one] you guys, i want to live in the wizarding world of harry potter. i really do. it was so well designed and executed and just perfect in every single way. it's been a few weeks since i've been back home, and i still feel like i should just quit my life and go back. the "london" side is perfect. like, it seriously looks like a street pulled straight out of london, and then you go into diagon alley and it's like you're home. (if you, like me, have always felt more at home in fictional worlds than this real one i'm stuck in.) fire breathing dragons, people running around with wands performing spells that actually work, sipping butterbeer. i sat in the sun eating a scoop of florean fortescue's ice cream while listening to celestina warbeck perform live, and i cannot even explain how perfect that moment was. i would move to orlando in a heartbeat, get an annual pass, and spend every minute in diagon alley if it didn't mean that i had to live in florida. no offense to floridians, but the news stories that come out of that state have me noping big time. plus, too many bugs. but sigh, take me back.

[two] it's almost nanowrimo time again! i was, as is typical of me in octobers, wondering if i should even do it this year. i have a baby that wants me to spend my days building towers for him to knock down. i have a dissertation that i need to write slash start from scratch with slash cry about in the bathroom. i have a severely neglected blog that i never seem to have time to update. and yet, i think i can write a fifty thousand word novel? am i crazy? apparently. i usually have some hint of a plot idea or a character or a feeling that could be turned into something by the beginning of october. this year? nothing. at first i took that as a sign to take a break from it, but then i got on the site, looked at titles in the adoption station, and started to get the excitement in the pit of my stomach that means creativity is near. i didn't see any titles that jumped out at me and filled my head with a story, but just looking through them started to get my brain turning, and now there is a feeling starting to bubble up that i might be able to turn into something. and it feels almost as perfect as being back in diagon alley. if i could spend my days writing in a fictional world on the beach, i think i'd die of happiness.

[three] baby update! cricket is seven months now. which means that it has been over half a year since he's been around and that is just ridiculously crazy to me. he's eating solids and crawling (sort of. he does some weird version of the worm across the floor.) and sitting up and knocking down towers and jumping and just basically being not a newborn anymore. it's mindblowing to me though it really shouldn't be, this is what babies do, they grow up. but goodness this is fast, having a baby around again brought light to the fact that i know waaay too many kid songs and if i used that brain power to remember something more productive i could probably be some sort of academic genius at this point with three post-graduate degrees, a hundred published articles, and seven schools begging me to work for them. instead i just have a vague sense of guilt and frustration and a much edited outline for a new dissertation topic. oh well.

*Here With Me - The Killers