We're fine. Everything is fine.

Last week when I picked Poppy up from daycare, her teacher said she thought Pops might have a stomach bug because she'd had a few terrible diapers that afternoon. My insides went cold and my voice got pinched as I tried to laugh it off with a panicked "oh I'm sure it's just the antibiotics she's on for her double ear infection, or the painkillers she's on because Grady accidentally slammed her hand in the car door."  

Less than fourty-eight hours later, in the middle of the night, Grady was vomiting in the top bunk of his bunk bed and Poppy was vomiting in our bed.  

Fortunately, the virus was fast and furious, and though it knocked out everyone in our family, it was gone within a few days. Unfortunately, it left Poppy with a terrible, hacking cough that had me staying up all night to make sure she kept breathing. Back to the doctor. And a second double ear infection diagnosis in as many weeks. 

I am so tired, y'all. I am tired to the bone.  

I started January with big dreams of organization, and exercise, and de-cluttering, and adequate sleep. You know, truly original January goals. And now here I am, wrung out, staggering toward the end of the month, wishing away time, frazzled and anxious. I need to hit the reset button. So! January 31st is my new New Year's Eve, as well as a full moon which brings with it some much needed moon magic. February 1st I start over, refreshed, re-inspired, and (hopefully) healthy enough to tackle my goals for the year. Let's do this. 

Spiral

One month ago I had a small surgery on my eyelid. I had a weird lump and my plan of googling eye cancer and hoping the bump disappeared on its own didn't actually resolve the problem (funnily enough). So I saw my doctor, was referred to a specialist, and then waited for three months for my appointment. 

I had never met this doctor before my appointment. For various reasons, the appointment did not go great. At the end of the day, the surgery was completed and the lump is gone so it was technically successful. But at one point the doctor and nurse were literally holding me down and sticking needles in my eyelid and I panicked. Nothing was explained to me before or while it happened. It was all very abrupt, brusque, and coldly efficient. I'm not such a special snowflake that I need to have my hand held through medical procedures but I do like to have advance warning when things are going to happen to or on my body. 

The surgery happened a month ago and my eyelid has healed beautifully. But I'm stuck in this bizarre anxiety spiral where I constantly feel like I'm on the brink of imminent doom. It doesn't help that two weeks after the surgery I had my bi-annual checkup at the cancer centre (something that sends me down the anxiety spiral anyway).

I feel like the last month has been spent on tenterhooks. My brain is not a very comfortable place to be right now. My feelings are itchy. I drive to work and every car is about to cross the centre line and hit me head-on. I tuck Grady into his bunk bed and wake up five times during the night thinking I've heard him fall out. I don't hear from friends and think I've done something to offend them and now they hate me. I feel like I'm unravelling at the seams. 

This probably comes across as more woe-is-me than I intend. The last month has also been full of shining moments and a lot of fun. It's not all anxiety and doom all the times. That's the thing with anxiety; it creeps up on me. I've been trying to ignore it out of existence for a month but it's not working so here I am, laying it out and leaving it in 2017. 

Seasons Change

I say it through gritted teeth as I hurry reluctant children through frosty air, juggling backpacks and a furious baby and my half-empty mug of lukewarm coffee. 

"Seasons change," I whisper softly in my sing-songy voice so Poppy doesn't hear the frustration and despair I'm feeling when she cannot settle and is still awake at 11:30p.m.

When I'm wiping yogurt out of Grady's lunchbox for the third time this week, or re-folding the laundry that Poppy discovered piled nicely waiting to be tucked into drawers and has strewn about the room, or speeding up the street to make it to the drugstore before it closes so I can grab a bag of diapers, it is my rallying cry. "SEASONS. CHANGE." 

I love my family more than anything but lately, I am not having much fun. I am irritated. I am annoyed. I am itching to feel like myself again, except I don't quite remember what that's supposed to feel like.  

I worry that I am wishing away time. That I'm constantly looking forward to the "what's next" and so I forget to enjoy the "right now." (Am I supposed to enjoy the right now if the right now includes blueberry diapers in November for the love?) It is a very weird place to be, both wishing time would stand still so I can enjoy it properly, and hurry up to a time when I'm actually enjoying myself. 

Parents who have survived babyhood: tell me it gets better.  

A Small List of Good Things

This week feels heavy, and the stormy weather we're having is doing nothing to lift my spirits. A small list of good things is the perfect remedy to my grump.  

1. The Good Place on Netflix. You guys, if you have not watched this yet, get on it. Shawn and I never agree on shows to watch but we both loved this. The episodes are only 22 minutes long, and there's only 13, so it's an easy series to devour. I literally laughed out loud multiple times while watching this show.
2. Concrete and Gold by the Foo Fighters. One day these guys are bound to disappoint me but today is not that day. This album has been on repeat in my house for weeks.
3. The Dirty John podcast. Do you love true crime? The Dirty John podcast is an easy listen (I think it's six episodes long and they're all under an hour). It's engaging and not too gruesome.  

What's on your list of good things this week?