Falling by the wayside
Little by little this place has gotten harder and harder to pay attention to properly. I never seem to place it's priority anywhere near the top. Sorry about that. I tend to see it as I'm often too busy living the life that I have that I can't write about it. What's the old saying? (I'm sure I'll muck it up.)
"Good girls keeps diaries, bad girls don't have the time?" Something like that, but I don't see myself as a particularly bad girl.
Nora had another check with her pediatrician about that spot on her arm. He has recommended we see a pediasurgeon before we go any further. We're waiting for the referral to go through, which could take another six weeks. From what I understand, the doctor thinks she may need it removed? Or not removed? He doesn't think it's going to heal on its own and he wants someone else to evaluate the potential for the spot to hinder Nora's mobility as she grows. Or it might need to be biopsied so it could be tested. So, we have no idea what's going on, but we're supposed to relax and there's no urgency.
In other Nora news, she's finally had her first cold. She handled it with the same charm and resilience that I handle being ill, which is to say that she's been a screaming, snotty, tyrant for days now. We had to cancel our anniversary plans because she was just inconsolable. I'm sure, at some point in our future, we'll leave a miserable kid home to sleep while we go to a movie, but we just aren't there, yet. (I don't know if my guilt complex could handle it, actually, but that's neither here, nor there.) In theory we could reschedule but I don't know when that will work out. We have plans coming up for family events and that sort of thing.
I've finished my first creative writing project and I'm starting another. I like the idea of keeping the writing up. Yes, I'm still resentful that I barely seem to have time to write, but I know that it won't always be this way. As Nora gets older I'll be able to work more writing time into my schedule.
I am living for that future.
But that isn't to say I'm dissatisfied. The shift in my schedule has renewed my pleasure in being a mother. Even to a snotty tyrant. We're laughing and learning and I love it. I can see the change in her eyes, the light that was diminished, returning and I'm thrilled.
She still asks, sometimes, if I'm crying. "Crying, Mama?"
"No, Mama's not crying. I have The Boogers, like you, because we've been sick."
And she looks hard at my face, her denim blue eyes searching, looking for lies, before smiling softly and saying, "Good."
My little girl is so loving and sensitive. I'm incredibly lucky that this beautiful kid is in my life.
Our garden is growing and looking lush. Nora likes to poke around, looking for bugs. She asks me to talk about them, tell her what's a good bug and a bad bug. Why scary bugs are sometimes the best bugs. (She has my inherent uneasiness with spiders, but we both acknowledge there's no better place for them than a garden.) Always learning.
I'm surprised with how desperately she wants to know her letters. I have to read everything, spell everything, trace letters on flat surfaces. She craves it. i guess that's because we read all of the time. Books and stories and Mama likes writing.
And I have to tell her the colors of things. And the words for smells. My little sponge is thirsty.
It gives me a bit of purpose. I no longer just sit around, keeping her from licking light sockets and what not. We're engaged in conversation and play.
It's a good life to have.
"Good girls keeps diaries, bad girls don't have the time?" Something like that, but I don't see myself as a particularly bad girl.
Nora had another check with her pediatrician about that spot on her arm. He has recommended we see a pediasurgeon before we go any further. We're waiting for the referral to go through, which could take another six weeks. From what I understand, the doctor thinks she may need it removed? Or not removed? He doesn't think it's going to heal on its own and he wants someone else to evaluate the potential for the spot to hinder Nora's mobility as she grows. Or it might need to be biopsied so it could be tested. So, we have no idea what's going on, but we're supposed to relax and there's no urgency.
In other Nora news, she's finally had her first cold. She handled it with the same charm and resilience that I handle being ill, which is to say that she's been a screaming, snotty, tyrant for days now. We had to cancel our anniversary plans because she was just inconsolable. I'm sure, at some point in our future, we'll leave a miserable kid home to sleep while we go to a movie, but we just aren't there, yet. (I don't know if my guilt complex could handle it, actually, but that's neither here, nor there.) In theory we could reschedule but I don't know when that will work out. We have plans coming up for family events and that sort of thing.
I've finished my first creative writing project and I'm starting another. I like the idea of keeping the writing up. Yes, I'm still resentful that I barely seem to have time to write, but I know that it won't always be this way. As Nora gets older I'll be able to work more writing time into my schedule.
I am living for that future.
But that isn't to say I'm dissatisfied. The shift in my schedule has renewed my pleasure in being a mother. Even to a snotty tyrant. We're laughing and learning and I love it. I can see the change in her eyes, the light that was diminished, returning and I'm thrilled.
She still asks, sometimes, if I'm crying. "Crying, Mama?"
"No, Mama's not crying. I have The Boogers, like you, because we've been sick."
And she looks hard at my face, her denim blue eyes searching, looking for lies, before smiling softly and saying, "Good."
My little girl is so loving and sensitive. I'm incredibly lucky that this beautiful kid is in my life.
Our garden is growing and looking lush. Nora likes to poke around, looking for bugs. She asks me to talk about them, tell her what's a good bug and a bad bug. Why scary bugs are sometimes the best bugs. (She has my inherent uneasiness with spiders, but we both acknowledge there's no better place for them than a garden.) Always learning.
I'm surprised with how desperately she wants to know her letters. I have to read everything, spell everything, trace letters on flat surfaces. She craves it. i guess that's because we read all of the time. Books and stories and Mama likes writing.
And I have to tell her the colors of things. And the words for smells. My little sponge is thirsty.
It gives me a bit of purpose. I no longer just sit around, keeping her from licking light sockets and what not. We're engaged in conversation and play.
It's a good life to have.
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