Friday, December 22, 2006
Kicking it
I can hear the voices of my loyal fans, crying out, "Why no blogging, Becca?"
Family Life has staged an intervention and told me in no uncertain terms that my addiction to 20-minutes-a-day-for-myself is just too selfish and damaging to those around me. I'm trying to kick the habit of blog-reading and -writing and quell the need to express my personal (albeit very boring) point-of-view, so I can only boot up the computer to check my e-mail (work-related messages only!) and that's it.
So why am I posting on my blog right now? Well, just because I'm weak and lazy and selfish and now I must go and self-flagellate. Excuse me.
I can hear the voices of my loyal fans, crying out, "Why no blogging, Becca?"
Family Life has staged an intervention and told me in no uncertain terms that my addiction to 20-minutes-a-day-for-myself is just too selfish and damaging to those around me. I'm trying to kick the habit of blog-reading and -writing and quell the need to express my personal (albeit very boring) point-of-view, so I can only boot up the computer to check my e-mail (work-related messages only!) and that's it.
So why am I posting on my blog right now? Well, just because I'm weak and lazy and selfish and now I must go and self-flagellate. Excuse me.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Rhymes with Castro
I've been out of circulation for the past week, the reason being a certain narsty stomach bug that made its way through our family, hitting me the hardest and knocking me out for a record-tying 5 days. No Christmas preparations were done, no presents bought, no tree decorated, no baking, no no no no. Senor Gastro is one ugly mofo, and he tries to take away Christmas from the good little girls and boys.
I wish you all good health. Keep washing those hands!
I've been out of circulation for the past week, the reason being a certain narsty stomach bug that made its way through our family, hitting me the hardest and knocking me out for a record-tying 5 days. No Christmas preparations were done, no presents bought, no tree decorated, no baking, no no no no. Senor Gastro is one ugly mofo, and he tries to take away Christmas from the good little girls and boys.
I wish you all good health. Keep washing those hands!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
A child waking up on a snowy night
Things feel as though they're looking up, 'though I'm not sure why. Just a mood thing, I guess. Some really lovely little things have happened to me in the last few days, and they outweigh the not-so-lovely. Noone in the family is sick at the moment and I'm exercising every day. I haven't dealt with the idea of Christmas preparations yet. Maybe it'll be small and simple this year, and maybe I'll gear up at the last minute and be a Christmas whirlwind. Tune in next time and see whether SAD (or whatever is wrong with me) defeats Christmas after all...
The other night Fifi had a bad dream and woke up really upset. (This is very rare.) She told me about the dream while crying very loudly, which, because she shares a room with her big sister, meant that I had to take her into my room. We lay on my bed cuddling and she calmed down and told me about her dream. It involved cheese. Apparently the cheese came and landed on her cheek and then either ran or flew away into a bag. She seemed to be concerned that someone might come and catch her in a net and put her in a cage. (I think this comes from the book I Wish That I had Duck Feet, a recent favourite.) I told her all the things I thought she needed to hear, and we talked about happy things, so the cheese wouldn't come back when she returned to her bed.
Somehow those times, when a child wakes up in the night and talks and cuddles with you, are among the best times we have as parents (D. and I, anyway). There's something in the sleepy warmth, the clarity of being truly alone together in a quiet house, the intimacy, that makes you feel how lucky you are to be experiencing this child, this individual person and all their beauty and unique intelligence. Maybe the "adult time" we have in the evening gives us the distance we need to see the child more clearly, with more patience and willingness to really appreciate them.
I'm glad they usually sleep well, and wake up in the night only on rare occasions. I treasure the moments when they do wake up. They are moments when you can make someone you love feel better, safe, loved and restored to happiness. Like childhood itself, they only last for a short time.
Things feel as though they're looking up, 'though I'm not sure why. Just a mood thing, I guess. Some really lovely little things have happened to me in the last few days, and they outweigh the not-so-lovely. Noone in the family is sick at the moment and I'm exercising every day. I haven't dealt with the idea of Christmas preparations yet. Maybe it'll be small and simple this year, and maybe I'll gear up at the last minute and be a Christmas whirlwind. Tune in next time and see whether SAD (or whatever is wrong with me) defeats Christmas after all...
The other night Fifi had a bad dream and woke up really upset. (This is very rare.) She told me about the dream while crying very loudly, which, because she shares a room with her big sister, meant that I had to take her into my room. We lay on my bed cuddling and she calmed down and told me about her dream. It involved cheese. Apparently the cheese came and landed on her cheek and then either ran or flew away into a bag. She seemed to be concerned that someone might come and catch her in a net and put her in a cage. (I think this comes from the book I Wish That I had Duck Feet, a recent favourite.) I told her all the things I thought she needed to hear, and we talked about happy things, so the cheese wouldn't come back when she returned to her bed.
Somehow those times, when a child wakes up in the night and talks and cuddles with you, are among the best times we have as parents (D. and I, anyway). There's something in the sleepy warmth, the clarity of being truly alone together in a quiet house, the intimacy, that makes you feel how lucky you are to be experiencing this child, this individual person and all their beauty and unique intelligence. Maybe the "adult time" we have in the evening gives us the distance we need to see the child more clearly, with more patience and willingness to really appreciate them.
I'm glad they usually sleep well, and wake up in the night only on rare occasions. I treasure the moments when they do wake up. They are moments when you can make someone you love feel better, safe, loved and restored to happiness. Like childhood itself, they only last for a short time.
