Change
On the evening of our beautiful warm day last weekend, I leaned on the kitchen counter in front of the wide open screenless window and let the California breeze wash over my bare shoulders. It was an extraordinary sensation that felt like change was coming.
The week following G's accident was excruciating. We spent every day at another doctor's visit to receive bad news. Internal and external stitches. Endless fever. Severe swelling. Infection. Drainage. Antibiotic shots. At some point I got tired of crying.
I hesitate to say she's totally fine for fear that some hard edge will hear my confidence and attack at the first opportunity. So I'm ever humble, watchful and careful. I no longer start blacking out at the sight of it, which is good I suppose.
So, change.
The coffee table was removed immediately and replaced with an ottoman hybrid. Edge padding was installed where needed in the house.
We decided that the bunk bed and room-sharing we planned for the kids were never going to happen, so we didn't waste time setting G up with her own big-girl furniture. I was desperate to do something for her. We said it was princess furniture. It made her happy.
I care a little less about some things now. I can't pinpoint exactly what they are, but I think it has to do with petty insecurities, wimpy indecision and keeping up with things in general.
I considered stopping blogging altogether. I didn't have much choice over the past two weeks, and I don't see finding much more opportunity soon. Maybe it's sharing too much, but these little entries give me remarkable satisfaction because they are lifelines to the outside world. A little sad, but there it is. I'd like to continue, but probably not as often.
Maybe this need for change will subside in proportion to the healing. I don't know, but I hope not, out of respect for the scar.
Thanks to all who offered support and kind words. Much appreciated.
The week following G's accident was excruciating. We spent every day at another doctor's visit to receive bad news. Internal and external stitches. Endless fever. Severe swelling. Infection. Drainage. Antibiotic shots. At some point I got tired of crying.
I hesitate to say she's totally fine for fear that some hard edge will hear my confidence and attack at the first opportunity. So I'm ever humble, watchful and careful. I no longer start blacking out at the sight of it, which is good I suppose.
So, change.
The coffee table was removed immediately and replaced with an ottoman hybrid. Edge padding was installed where needed in the house.
We decided that the bunk bed and room-sharing we planned for the kids were never going to happen, so we didn't waste time setting G up with her own big-girl furniture. I was desperate to do something for her. We said it was princess furniture. It made her happy.
I care a little less about some things now. I can't pinpoint exactly what they are, but I think it has to do with petty insecurities, wimpy indecision and keeping up with things in general.
I considered stopping blogging altogether. I didn't have much choice over the past two weeks, and I don't see finding much more opportunity soon. Maybe it's sharing too much, but these little entries give me remarkable satisfaction because they are lifelines to the outside world. A little sad, but there it is. I'd like to continue, but probably not as often.
Maybe this need for change will subside in proportion to the healing. I don't know, but I hope not, out of respect for the scar.
Thanks to all who offered support and kind words. Much appreciated.
posted by Anne at 10:26 PM
9 Comments:
Hugs - hang in there! I wish I could say that it gets better, but unfortunately, being a mom and dealing with this type of stuff is hard.
We've been through Cole putting a razor in his mouth, getting into medicine, having a bad reaction from his tonsillectomy, and I'm sure we're not done yet.
Just take each day as it comes and take a deep breath :) You're stronger than you think!
Glad to hear G is doing good now. Sounded like a nasty accident, but you have to remember back to your childhood and draw out all of the horrible things that happened to you then. I know I had plenty of them :)
Hey without this blog, how often would you get to have random chat about things with Bev or I or Krystie? Not too often. It's just like the telephone... only... less interactive... and less good. Hehe. Don't stop now :)
Hey Ang,
SOOOO glad to read your wise and witty words again.
Sorry to hear there was more drama with the accident. But, kids are
f****** resilient.And I am sure G is one tough cookie after all this. Did I ever share with you my horrific ER/surgery story? It involved our pissed off cat and Holly's eyelid slit in 2, down to the eyeball. Syd was about 5 months old, I think.
Head traumas bleed like nothing I've ever seen. Holls survived and barely has a scar, vision perfect. The cat was not so lucky.
You are a great Momma. And G is lucky to have you. Hang in there.
Keep on bloggin GF, it's our little refuge from the big bad ugly world, right?
Hugs,
Amy
Hi, Angie,
I'm sorry to hear about how difficult the last few weeks have been. I can say that I honestly can not imagine the stress and strength involved in being a parent.
I saw my niece this weekend and I remembered something from almost 2 years ago. When she was 11 weeks old, I went to NYC to take care of her for about 4-5 days so that my sister and her husband could go on a vacation which was a gift to her from her company. (And I e-mailed her every 2 hours with an update and she was still a wreck.) A few days after I returned, I had a nightmare that I'd been in a plane crash and there were many survivors - and my niece and I were among them. I had bottles of water in my carry-on and I would sneak into the forest with my baby niece and give her water because I didn't want anyone else to know I had it and I wanted her to survive until we were rescued. That's after just being with her for a few days. I can not imagine the grief and heartache that goes into every bump and bruise they get, as a parent.
I just told my sister about my blog for the first time this past week and I sent her your comments to the entry I did on her kids suckin' the life out of her. She was relieved to hear she wasn't the only one exhausted and appreciated your well wishes on getting sleep.
As for blogging... I am sure you can guess how I would feel if you discontinued. And I don't think it is at all ...well, I don't think it's anything (and it certainly isn't sad) that it be a lifeline to the outside world. It just is what it is. (Whatever the hell that means.) Oddly, for me, sometimes it's the only way to feel like I can shut it out (the outside world). I'm actually more of an introvert by nature - how about you?
I don't think it is sharing too much to identify the satisfaction you get from blogging. I don't even know that I'd call what you do "blogging" - it's more like article writing, or editorials, don't you think? Not so much random nothings as it is well written commentary. That's why I read it, at least. There are few people who write well.
Having said all that, I would completely respect your decision to say "to hell with it."
Well, that's far too long of a comment. It's good to hear your voice again in print and I do hope your daughter is feeling like a princess with that new furniture.
-R.
Bev and Lynch - Thanks for the hugs and encouragement. A razor in the mouth sounds pretty darn scary! I know the worrying never stops and you have to enjoy the moments when they're safely asleep in their beds.
Amy - Thanks. Yikes on the eyelid incident! How scary to have something happen to your baby's eye. You'll have to tell me the whole story sometime.
R - How incredibly generous (and brave) of you to take care of your very young niece for so long. You obviously bonded strongly, as was evident by your nightmare. I hope you're on my plane if it crashes.
Especially with infants, since they demand nearly all of your conscious time, children can seep into your unconscious in the form of dreams or sleep-deprived hallucinations. With both my kids, when they were infants, I'd hear them cry even when they were asleep, and I'd wake often in the night feeling like I had rolled onto them even though they were safe in their cribs.
Thank you kindly for the blogging encouragement. And thank you for the recognition of my efforts. I truly enjoy creating something that someone might find useful or derive pleasure from reading. It makes a big difference in my state of mind, possibly because I might be an extrovert, so spending most of my time with children at home makes me anxious. That said, I treasure time totally alone too.
Anyway, thanks. :-)
R - I thought about what you said about your blogging oddly shutting out the outside world, and I wondered if it was the act of writing more than the act of blogging that shut everything out. Because once all those comments you get come in, I can't imagine it's easy to shut them out. ;-)
Hi, Angie,
I promise to share my water bottle with you if we crash in a plane together. I won't lie - I was scared out of my wits that she'd cry and I'd be helpless but she was an incredibly easy baby.
With respect to your second paragraph - your heart must skip a beat every other hour or so. Having kids = living on the edge.
And you're welcome for the encouragement. I'd say your blog is a good mix of serious and light and because it's well written, the serious is good. Often, in a blog, it isn't. But yours is compelling. Come on, I've been reading Huffington because of you!
Yes, it's probably the act of writing that shuts it all out more than the blogging. It's this mixture of wanting to be alone to write and then being vain enough to want to show it to someone and get a reaction. In a way, I dislike that about myself but I reassure myself that I wrote my blog for years before getting readers. But still, I must be somewhat vain/self-centered or I'd be slapping this up on paper.
I just thought about this some more. I think I express myself better in print. In person, I'm fairly expressive but I think I like the nuances of print. Where words are spaced, how they are formatted, etc.
Hm. Perhaps I'm weird.
R - Thanks again.
I share your comments about blogging and your fondness for creating (one's own) printed words. There's something about the whole process that fills many mental needs, even if only a few people read it. And if it's well-written and entertaining, as yours is, you're benefiting more than yourself. Cheaper than therapy in any case. :-)
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