In one month, I will be thirty years old. That means I have one month to do a whole lot of things I wanted to accomplish in my twenties.
Visiting all 50 states is not going to happen (not counting states where I’ve only been inside an airport, I think I’ve been to fifteen). Even if it was finished and submitted and magically accepted for publication right now, my novel would not be published by October 19th–I can’t even say it will be finished by then. I don’t have time to join a roller derby team, and since I haven’t been on skates since the second trimester of my pregnancy, I would probably fall and break an ankle first thing (I’m an enthusiastic but untalented skater). Not even an extreme crash diet would bring me down to my ideal weight that quickly. I can play maybe five songs on the guitar but I can’t even remember which strings play which notes and it’s going to be quite a while before I can play an F#minor. Continue reading “Thirty”→
The fall solstice doesn’t happen until September 23rd, but as far as I’m concerned, autumn is here. Labor Day has passed (September 1st marked the start of meteorological autumn) and here in the suburbs of Seattle, it’s a damp 62 degrees. Starbucks has yet again rolled out the Pumpkin Spice Latte, and the pumpkin-spice-loving world has rejoiced. I’m sure some of you are sad and cold, while others are saying, What? Fall? It’s still 92 degrees here. But I’m not hiding under a blanket or sunning on a beach. I chose the Pacific Northwest for a reason. In some regions it’s perpetually summer. In others, winter lasts nine months. In the Pacific Northwest, we get a gorgeous, lengthy fall.
Fall is my favorite season. I could moon about it all day. Rainstorms, falling leaves, my birthday, pumpkin patches, cinnamon, sweaters, firewood, chili, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Charlie Brown specials about pumpkins and pilgrims, turkey, cranberries, raking, hot tea. Oktoberfest. If you go by the solstices, then technically, most of the Christmas season is part of fall. My husband’s birthday, my mother’s birthday, my brother’s birthday: all fall. I love to put on a turtleneck and heat the house up with baking. I love to spend an afternoon knee-deep in leaves. I love the way the tip of my nose stays cold long after I come inside. Continue reading “All Hail the Pumpkin Spice Latte (And Other Thoughts About Fall)”→
Sometimes, I want to stop and tell all the mothers out there who have healthy children how blessed they are. Sometimes, I want to go to them one by one and punch them each in the face. Then my son is admitted to the children’s hospital and I see how much worse it could be, and I kind of want to invite all the sick kids’ mothers to come around and punch me. Not that I’m a huge advocate of violence, but I really think it would make them feel better.
My son’s life has been a roller coaster ride, and he’s not even two years old. Not only was he blessed with an impatient and emotionally immature mother, but he was born with an ectopic posterior pituitary gland, which means the lobes of his pituitary (a very important gland, if you don’t know, responsible for the production of cortisol and growth hormones) are separate, instead of cozied up to each other as they should be. This has caused blood sugar problems, which went undiagnosed for a long time because he also has (or is thought to have–it’s no longer clear if the seizures have to do with blood sugar or are unrelated) epilepsy, and the low blood sugar symptoms were attributed to that. So far, the reason for his sugar issues are not 100% clear; he’s going to have a test tomorrow to determine if he has a growth hormone deficiency, which would explain it. If he does, we’ll have to start nightly hormone injections and he should start to get better. If not, we’ll have to see a metabolic specialist and the mystery will continue. He’s currently on anti-seizure medication and we’ve been checking his blood sugar each morning. Due to some low numbers, we’ve also added a nighttime feeding to his schedule and another blood sugar check. If his numbers continue be low or he has more alarming symptoms, then we’ll take him back to the hospital because it won’t be safe for him to stay at home. Continue reading “Even a Smile Helps”→
I used to hate football. Vehemently. It’s always been my brother’s sport of choice, which perhaps has something to do with it. We fought like maniacs over the TV during football season, when as many football games as possible had to be watched, and when the season was over the fighting continued because he’d hog the TV with his football video games.
I minded it less when he was on the field–some of my friends’ brothers played football, too, and I could talk to them or run around the bleachers. One year in elementary school, I joined the cheer squad, and that made football something I looked forward to. Still, though I loved the kicking and the pom-poms, I had no idea (or interest in) what was going on on the field. I didn’t have to. The head cheerleader knew, as did the coach, and when told to do so, I would shout First and ten, do it again! Go! Fight! Win!Continue reading “It’s Football Season Again.”→