Either it’s been slowing settling in for me or I’ve just become increasingly ready to admit it:

In an variety of ways, I’ve been on pause since about December 4, 2009.

That day, December 4, 2009, was the day on which the forward progression of my idea of our . . . → Read More: Unpausing


Well, I found it.  And I wore it.  To the hospital.  For the ultrasound.  And I was right: it was JUST what that appointment needed.

Just before Christmas I ran into the lady who performed the December 4th ultrasound at the grocery store.  Like, literally (although accidentally) ran my basket into hers.  I recognized her, but not . . . → Read More: Punctuating

Long Hours

Wednesday evening now and it has been a long, long twelve hours since I drug myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and plugged the property management phone in to charge.

Eleven and one-sixth-ish long hours since that charging phone chirped good-morning-here-are-two-voicemails-I-took-in-lieu-of-ringing-this-morning.

Eleven long hours since I returned the calls to discover a tenant with a spewing . . . → Read More: Long Hours

The Second Wave, The Broken Cervix

On Saturday I joked that if I could come up with another variation of the word “suck” to describe the current situation I would throw it out there. Since then: suckage, suckification, and suckening.

And now I’m pretty well over the desperate derivationing of “suck.” For which we can all be glad, I am sure. . . . → Read More: The Second Wave, The Broken Cervix

The Worst Case: Suckfulness

Some things are just huge, heartbreaking, breath-stopping suckfulness.

Some things are the opposite.

It’s 10:00 on a Saturday morning and cuddling next to me in bed in polka-dot, footed pajamas, is a 20-month old little girl, The Child, whose cheeks are flush and rosy as she giggles through her first viewing of Rudolph the Red-Nosed . . . → Read More: The Worst Case: Suckfulness