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I only have a brief moment.  I’ve started to really hit the books/computer hard as a National Board candidate.  So, you may be seeing even less of me.  (No, no, don’t cry.  Please.   Stop.  I mean it.)

I still haven’t had time to complete my muffin top extravaganza.  But, it’s coming.

Oh, yes, it is.

Instead, I’ve continued to be plagued by guilt about Silas and the whole hospital ordeal.  It just seems like a really sick, ugly shame that I had this major family disconnect at the same time that Silas was so ill.   Of course, it wasn’t intentional.  But, you know, the whole road to hell and all that.

Still, and I don’t know if I can put what I was going through into words (or if I even want to put it into words), I’ve learned from that bitter lapse of familial bliss.

(If you’ve been reading you might be noting that “familial bliss” might be a poetic stretch of the imagination.  But, still.  You know what I mean.)

Anyhow, I don’t know if it was seeing my boy so sick or if it was my mom coming to relieve the stress or the fact that I’ve been regularly taking my medicine, but I’ve been through a major change.

I’ve been able to relax and enjoy!

And, with a two-year-old that’s just vital.

I’m not going to go into all the cute little things that I’ve watched Silas do lately.  About how particular he is and how he throws his head back when he laughs.  Honestly, all the wonderful is pretty much summed up in the picture.  (Yes, I finally broke down and posted a cute picture of my son.  Does that mean I’ve turned all warm and fuzzy?  Still, can you even try to resist that smile?!?)

So, I guess the good part of fucking up– as long as no one was seriously hurt along the way– is– yes, I’m going to be totally cliche and am going to try to use at least one more set of hyphens– is– okay, I don’t really have anything to add but the hyphens– is that you can, indeed, learn from your mistakes.

I’m sure I’m not the first parent who was overdoing it at work, was feeling stressed at home, and who decided to put the blinders on in a desperate act of self-preservation.

The good thing is, I’ve re-prioritized.

So yeah, that’s why I haven’t been here.  It’s not because I’m reading trash novels (well, I am) or because I’m watching trash T.V. (no, I’m really not– unless you count Thomas as trash) or because I haven’t a thing to say.

I haven’t been here because I’ve been playing with my boy.  (Well, and I’ve been working on my Nat’l Boards while he sleeps.)

Anyhow, may you live each day like it’s 1999.  Or, whatever.

Love the one your with.

~Em

First of all, I can’t sleep.  Second, I’m forcing myself to be here.

I started this post over a week ago and this is as far as I got:

I was at church recently (I attend a Unitarian Universalist congregation) and the minister was speaking about the experience of young adult cancer patients in the context of finding a greater hope and recognizing joy.  He quoted a young woman who said something (unfortunately I didn’t write down the quote because I swore I would remember it later) along the lines of “at night it is difficult to get into my scary bed with my scary thoughts.”

Then, I stopped.  That’s as far as I’ve been getting lately.  Basically, the part about the scary thoughts.

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It’s 3:35.  Yes, in the morning.  I often wake, regardless of the hour, brimming with ideas.  Often, I curse the fact that my best thinking comes when it shouldn’t– in the car, in the shower, in the middle of the night.  But, almost as often, I am stirred from my sleep, compelled to jot down a at least a few bits and pieces.

So, I’ve been sitting here, working on some posts, some poems, some new perspectives on my life.  Being 3:38 in the morning and a work night,  I was about to return to bed until I noticed the moon pouring through the “reading room” window onto my day bed.  (Ironically, spilling right onto my journal and laptop.)

I had to lie in that light.

And, now, at 3:40, I am wondering should I sleep in it even at the risk of offending my husband.

There must be something magical to absorb.

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