Wrapping Up? (It Gets Better Part 4)

I closed Part 3 by telling you "how badly my mom was doing began to really hit me," complete with that link. If you haven't read it yet, you can click over and do that now -- it's essentially Part 4 of this story, and this post labeled Part 4 should be Part 5. Not confusing at all!

But I didn't say in that link how the trip down to California to say goodbye to my mom went, because it hadn't happened yet.

I absolutely love this picture. Somehow, amazingly, it shows joy and laughter as I sit by my mom, who's dying, and by my baby, who by the grace of God is whole and healthy even though her organs are in weird places.

Getting So Much Better (It Gets Better Part 3)

Parts 1 and 2.

I think I'd started towards scheduling my first postpartum therapy session already. So after a lowest point where, though I wasn't going to commit suicide, I still had a case of clear and definite suicidal thinking, I took the leap and told my therapist about it at my appointment, in early November 2017. My baby was born in late August, so I was just a little over two months postpartum.

You can love your baby with all your heart, feel intense gratitude, and still be depressed.

I agreed with her that it was time to try medication, that we don't earn brownie points for making things harder and more painful than they have to be.

I'd also already had postpartum checks and discussion with one particular amazing OB at my practice, I'll call her Dr. B. (She happened to be the first doctor, after we found out in the prenatal visits about my baby's rare and scary organ placement, who stopped and asked me how I was doing with all of it.)

Mundane, Sacred Invitations

I haven't finished telling you my PPD story, but I'm going to share this mental health tool anyway. This isn't the first tool I wanted to write about, this isn't how I'd outlined and planned it out, but God seems to be inviting me to share it now, so here it is.


I struggle with figuring out what realistic expectations are for myself, and goals that will push me without being delusional, goals that are relevant and appropriate to my life stage and responsibilities.

But I enjoy goal setting, and systems, and tracking things. I love playing around with it all, even though I'm not great at buckling down and actually getting stuff done.

Idealism is... sorta my middle name. To me, there are whole layers of realism. I can work real hard and cut things and make my schedule realistic... and then I realize it still isn't, I need to peel yet another layer off that onion.

So it was revolutionary to me when I was talking with a sister about this and she told me she's stopped asking what other people would consider a realistic expectation, to ask what God expects of her.

Really, It Does Get Better (It Gets Better Part 2)

Part 1 is here.


Trigger Warning: Suicidal Thoughts.

As I said, we received bad news at the 20-week anatomy scan in my latest pregnancy, 2017.

I never did get that one complication again, despite what they say is a 90% chance of recurrence in my type of case, but I did have other circumstances combined with my baby's weird organ placement that meant induction again, just in case it meant certain bad things, at 39 weeks.

It was another different experience, though it had more in common with my second induction than my first, so that was good. It went slowly until it didn't AT ALL -- epidurals either speed things up for me, or if it's just coincidence and it was going to speed up anyway, I'm still eternally grateful for the epidural, because I do NOT want to experience 45 minutes from 5 cm to the actual birth without an epidural!

But I digress. :) There was a NICU team there, but our baby was doing so well they decided to let her stay with me overnight and take her down for testing in the NICU in the morning, so that was good. Even though they had us track and report every time she spat up a little, and about how much.

The next few days in the NICU were only a few days, but felt longer. They felt full of inconclusive test results. And a spinal headache. The nurse who put in my IV for the blood patch to treat my spinal blew out a vein, and later I took a sort of fierce satisfaction in how completely awful that bruise looked. It didn't feel that bad, even that initial botched IV was nothing compared to induction or my headache, but it shocked and horrified others and I grinned at pain made visible. You know?

This is not at its worst. Not at all. Unfortunately I didn't take enough pictures of it! :)

Begin Again Part 2

Begin Again: The Brave Practice of Releasing Hurt and Receiving Rest by Leeana Tankersley
Read: 4/7/18-4/24/18

Last week I started to tell how I found this book, and about my grief with my mother in the late stages of dementia.

I left off with listening to The Next Right Thing podcast, the episode Be a Beginner.

I'd just been told, by multiple people, that I didn't know how to do this, how to proceed, because I'd never done it before.

So this week, if you're in your own grief, anxiety, or transition, I invite you in with these words from the transcript:

"If you are newly engaged or newly pregnant or if you are a new step-parent or just moved into a new house, you are grateful for the new role that you have and maybe excited about the future. But there’s a lot you don’t yet know and there isn’t a handbook to teach you.

Begin Again Part 1

Begin Again: The Brave Practice of Releasing Hurt and Receiving Rest by Leeana Tankersley
Read: 4/7/18-4/24/18

This book is based on/inspired by the line in the Rule of St. Benedict, "Always we begin again." I absolutely loved it and would recommend it to everyone, but especially anyone who's in transition now, and especially especially anyone who's grieving anything.

Why? It's not a book on grief, right? I mean, "Hurt" is in the title, but "Releasing Hurt?" What if you just lost someone and the thing you're beginning is grief, and you're not ready to be done with that process yet?

This isn't a book that only applies to happy beginnings. Beginnings also involve endings, even the "my world is falling apart" sort.

I could give you a beautiful quote from the introduction to prove it, but first, let me tell you a story.

Here's how I found Begin Again. What I've written so far, anyway, and we'll finish the story and review next week. (Hopefully, that's the plan.)


My mom isn't doing very well. Nothing especially new there, but she's at a stage of not doing well that seems to be closer to the end, and I've been surprised at how hard it's been hitting me.

Things I Learned This Spring

Cooper Mountain Nature Park

Linking up with Emily Freeman to share what I've learned this spring.

I'm learning, apparently, to ban perfectionism by keeping things short. (I mean, less than 2000 words is short, right?!) This is the furthest thing from an exhaustive list of what I've learned recently. I could probably write every day for a month on what I've been learning! And I'll tell myself that I will write that series, so I don't feel as bad about leaving things out. It's a useful and pretty lie, it is.

Here are two. Two things I've learned. Well, two categories. Two category iceberg tips.

1. The Enneagram. Mostly when I'd heard about the Enneagram, up until this spring, I'd kind of been like, meh, I like the personality systems I already have, thanks. Don't need another one. I'd heard that Myers-Briggs highlights strengths whereas the Enneagram focuses on motivations, but when you include cognitive steps in your Myers-Briggs you can start to get a bit deeper than just behavior and preferences, too. So meh.

Sadness. And Mothers.

Trigger warning: Sadness. And mothers. Clearly.


I learned this summer, three weeks ago, that my mother is now in late-stage Alzheimer's, and has probably about twelve months to live.


Womp womp.

I learned other things this summer too, things I want to share with you, but I couldn't put this one in the same post as all the bright and happy things. I just couldn't. They can exist on the same blog, and in the same heart, but not in the same post, not today. (Link to the bright and happy things forthcoming, if you'd like to read them. Watch this space. If you don't see a link on Facebook or wherever when that goes live.)

(Also there are other wonderful, funny, cheery, and deep posts over at the linkup on Emily Freeman's blog, here! And there's still some time to join in, if you want!)

48-Hour Book Challenge, 2015!

Once again I make the 48-Hour Book Challenge attempt. There's a lot going on this weekend, and... we shall see. Twelve hours of reading and blogging and networking are required for true official participation, and I've never actually managed that yet. (That's my 48-Hour Book Challenge label link, and will take you to all my posts on it, this year's and the last couple years'.)

But, you know, two years ago I had a baby, and last year I had a one-year-old. This year, clearly, I have a two-year-old, and my chances are a little better... but on the other hand, this is Father's Day weekend. Not that we're doing a ton, just thinking through logistics and groceries and dishes, and it isn't the best possible weekend to be selfish and hide in a corner with books. Though hey! Even being selfish, I want to spend time with my family -- this is a good problem to have.

What's Saving My Life Right Now

Modern Mrs. Darcy says this idea comes from Barbara Brown Taylor's memoir Leaving Church, that "most of us can easily articulate what’s killing us, but few of us pay attention to what’s giving us life."

A lot of this is in common with what I'm learning right now, or learned last year. I didn't make it into the what we learned in January linkup this month though (ah, to write faster!), so it shouldn't be too terribly redundant for you.

Okay, I didn't quite make it for this linkup either, but whatever.


1. Big goals.

I'd heard before that you shouldn't have too many goals going at once, but I'd always resisted reducing mine. Winnowing and those sorts of decisions are hard for INFPs. I remember reading from Michael Hyatt that your brain can only keep so many goals in mind at once, and I was like, "That's what writing them down is for!" But. He was right. Goals are about change, and there's only so much energy and focus and willpower to go around. Better to make the decisions on the front end.

Teh Epic Personality Thread! Part One of... Heheheh.

Finally! I've been threatening to do this for a while. (Since a while before that link, actually. Let's see, from 750 Words, I initially drafted this post on June 5th... Yeah, almost half a year for the idea to spark and to gel and then to draft it, another half a year to edit and post, sounds about right for me.) (Because clearly, NOW IS THE TIME, two days before Christmas, with presents to buy. La la la...)


I've written a little bit before about how "I don't believe thought and feeling are opposed."

Deja Vu Blogfest

Found out about this linkup through Tiana Smith (who I recently found out about through Patricia C. Wrede), but I'm afraid I'm breaking the rules. I know, I know. Gasp, shock, horror.

See, since I haven't participated before, I don't want to pick a favorite post from the last year, I just want to pick a favorite post. And I felt like doing a

November Lessons

Back at the beginning of July I participated in a linkup with "Fifteen Things I Learned in June." It is, of course, kind of a regular thing. A monthly linkup. And I'm participating again! Finally! Here's the linkup at Chatting at the Sky, "Let's Share What We Learned in November."

From the serious to the silly, here's a taste of my November:

1) I need to limit my choices, duh! Sorry, it might be more "duh" to me than to you... it's a personality thing. I'm easily overwhelmed by decisions and things. My reminder/flash of revelation came courtesy of Modern Mrs. Darcy (also a strong INFP, yay!), in this post, "Concrete changes I've made because of MBTI and enneagram insights."

The question, now, is just how to go about limiting my choices... I can get so exhausted by decisions and I have so many options I want to keep open, even deciding how to limit the choices is difficult! There are so many things I want to do! How do I build routines that take that into account? Routines to change up the routines? I feel like I need a template for a template for a template. Yes, I know I'm ridiculous.

Related, but not quite the same:

2) Better to progress than to not act because you're trying to make the perfect choice. I guess I already knew this, but I attempted to take it to heart this month. I think. If I'm remembering right. Hey, I'm including it in November, okay? It's my post and I'll include this if I want to. So there.

Um. I mean, I've heard in a few places recently, like the book Quiet, that our society values action over careful decision too highly, and those of us who sit around contemplating really have something unique to offer, and often make better decisions.

Sure, but I've got it bad, and I can take forever just on daily minutiae. This is to help me dial back. (Er, dial back on the pondering, not the acting.)

3) I have a tendency to either run from myself (With books! Facebook! Twitter! Blogs! TV!) or attempt to control every last thing about myself (Plans! Schedules! Goals! Rules!). I swing back and forth between the two.

(Yes, even though I'm an INFP I have a bit of J in me, too -- I do like schedules and rules and things. At least... in theory. I love the idea of them. Carrying them out not so much. But oh, how I can dream!)

When my desires turn to addictions turn to digging myself into scary holes, I become so terrified of myself I try to plan and box myself into perfection. (Spoiler: doesn't work.) Two different kinds of running, really, and two different types of lying to myself.

I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be present, here, now. I want to show up and face my life. All the clichés! They're cliché for a reason. There are some things I should try to plan for (see above, about limiting my choices), but I don't want to plan all the things because I'm afraid of any desire or emotion poking out.

Hot baths always seem to reside in the middle, at least. Even though baths are so wonderful that they turn into something I "should" do, which normally brings the danger of the controlling-myself-to-death type of running, I can't seem to lie to myself in a hot bath. Though, I'll admit, I can compose overly optimistic future plans while soaking, even if I'm not actively running away from myself yet...

Great birthday. Thanks, Beth!

4) The Hyperbole and a Half book is SO. Awesome. It's like, one million awesome. Seriously. I think it might be the funniest book I've ever read. Plus there are serious bits that are also awesome. "Depression Part One" and "Depression Part Two" of course, though I already knew about those from her blog. And "This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult." Classic. But also new ones (I think?) like "Motivation," and "Identity" Parts One and Two. I think. I can't double check right now because I've loaned the book out, but in some ways they struck me as sort of different takes on the issues surrounding "This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult." As you might notice with #3, I can relate. Though again, different take. (And hers is better.) Similarities. They have them.

Also this song:



It came out in December, but that's okay, because I'm not counting it as something I learned. I'm just saying it relates to the other stuff. That's all. Don't judge.

5) I absolutely love Joss Whedon's version of Much Ado About Nothing. As it turns out, I had seen the play before, but it'd been quite a while. This was a magical way to be reintroduced to it. I've watched it just twice now, once with subtitles (because baby distractions); and it was even better the second time, with the subtitles (because Shakespeare). Oh, and watching it with the enthusiastic audience of a sister also helped. I DO love sharing things. Which makes the subtitles doubly helpful, as they probably helped Melanie's understanding too, thus the enthusiasm. Next I want to watch the commentary. I love the music, I pretty much love everything about it. Oh, and Amy Acker is brilliant. Many of the actors are, really, but Amy Acker, especially the "That I were a man" speech... *swoons*

Also great present. Thanks, John!

Technically, I watched this for the first time at the end of October, but I watched it a second time in November, so it counts. Because I didn't really learn how very much I loved it until the second time. Yeah.

Oh, and found this review of it later, while writing this post. Yup. In agreement.

6) I can actually publish blog posts on three days in a row! Woo! At least if I try to just make them short little posts. Of course, I might then only post up one more thing in the entire remaining month... Oops.

7) Taking a little partial break from the internet and such? Feels So. Good. Not checking one's phone, not reading blogs as much... I mean, I love blogs and such, I do. And I want to keep up with ALL THE BLOGS, which is impossible, and even when we talk about what I really mean, just keeping up with all the ones I like, it's still hard, because there's a LOT out there that I like. And I have a little girl, and etc. etc. But I am not quite exactly like some other textroverts I know -- unless I have some space away from the internet, it gets where I can't hear myself think anymore. There are too many voices in my head.

8) Baby (or maybe I should call her Toddler, now?) seems to like cats more than kittens. Huh. I guess it makes sense -- they're almost as big as she is. If I could see tigers up close, with no fear they'd hurt me, I guess I'd like that better, too.

9) Nirvana has an Android app now! "Enthusiastic cheer!"

10) Oh, how quickly a toddler can gain speed and comfort when she really starts to walk. Girl's getting fast. Also: Awwww! Kawaii desu yo!

Obligatory baby picture. Sorry it's not better. Did I mention she's fast?

11) We have a truly insane amount of onesies and rompers.

Board books for a sense of scale?

That isn't even all of them. There's a smaller stack of long-sleeved onesies behind that stack. There are more in the laundry hamper, and presumably more in the garage. Haven't finished going through all the boxes I'd packed away for when she'd be older, yet. She's older, now.

12) Stayed away from my baby for a whole entire night for the first time ever. It was... uncomfortable, still, as far as needing to pump a lot and it not being enough, but, ooh, it was worth it. Could have been better, as circumstances made it impossible for me to go to bed very early that night, but still. I woke up a few times, smiled, and went peacefully back to sleep. Bliss. Thanks for the birthday present, John!

Er, what I learned was that it's surprisingly uncomfortable still, but still awesome. I guess. I mean, I suspected as much, mostly. But hey, now I know!

13) WOW, is my girl introverted and sensitive. I mean, I knew that already, too, but it's rarely demonstrated with such high contrast as it was last Saturday.

My sister stayed the night, and Gracie hasn't seen her often, as she lives in Oregon. That morning as soon as Gracie woke up her emotions were all over the place, from joyful squeals to despairing cries. I thought at first she was on edge because of the stranger in the house, but no. In the middle of her crying we went out to the living room, she saw my sister on the couch, and... instant silence and calm neutrality while she observed the stranger. The edginess was just from being around the crowds of my extended family celebration for Thanksgiving on Friday. Recovery. She needs it.

14) Learned some things about intersectionality and what feminism looks like for people of color. I think I want to learn a lot more before I talk about it much here, though. Maybe I'll post a few links, soonish.

15) I'm better at Dutch Blitz (can also be played with regular playing cards under the name of Nertz, among many other names) than I used to be, many many Thanksgivings ago. Also, two-player is fun, provided game play is adjusted properly. If each person plays with two decks instead of one, you try to get rid of 20 cards instead of 10, with the assistance of five stacks instead of three.. yeah, it's fun. Also makes three-player seem pretty easy, as those five stacks make it feel like there's a ton of stuff to keep track of.

16) Not only is Toddler growing well now, as in the "Fifteen Things I Learned in June" post, but she even jumped up to the next growth curve, she's not on the very bottom line anymore! Woo!

Silliness is a grave business.

If you read the last couple posts, you might have noticed that today is my daughter's first birthday. My eldest and only (thus far).



I can think of lots of different things to say, but in the end, most of them fail me. She is truly a gift of grace; from the beginning of the pregnancy, when she brought light to a dark time for our family; to her safe birth amidst all kinds of risks and dangers; to the amazing person that she is now.

This is actually the next day, technically.

Even when she was a newborn, that was always something that surprised me, how little I felt like I had "a baby" or like I had become "a mother" in a generic sense -- I had her, Gracie (codename).

She was and is a very particular baby.

Sherlock Ducky the party hat.

She knows that silliness is a grave business.

Happy birthday, my love!

How I Was Raised: The Good Parts Version

Now that I'm a mother, I've suddenly started thinking about things from my own childhood I was taking for granted. Or at least... it's not so much HAVING these things I took for granted, as the GIVING of these things. How did my parents do it, and how can I pass these things on to my daughter or any other children we eventually have?

Things that repeatedly come in handy, like knowing how to read music, or slightly more intangible things, like a love of reading. Most of them seem to have something to do with either music or books, somehow.

I want to do a new series, where I consider these things one by one. What my parents did, and how we might attempt to reproduce their gifts in our own children.

No, still not a mommy blog. For starters, I don't have answers. This is me wondering aloud, with a healthy dose of gratitude for my own mother thrown in. It's easy for me to forget about the good parts, or to be sort of smug about them. ("Good grief, why are so many Christians so Biblically illiterate?") Here I want to celebrate them, as a step to maybe spreading the love.

Also I want to challenge myself: I want to tell my parents, especially my mom, that I'm grateful for these things. Even if my mom doesn't understand. (For those new to the blog, she has dementia. For everyone, I haven't written about it much here, but she's gotten a lot worse.)

So. It seems appropriate that the first one should be about reading.

The Good Parts Version Part 1:

Reading

I love to read, and grew up loving to read. My reading comprehension is excellent. I don't say that to brag, it's a gift. Some combination of the way I was raised with the way my brain is wired.

How do I pass that on?

It seems really simple and easy to me at first. Maybe it is, I'm not sure. It's relatively rare though, to find that love in this world. So thank you, Mom, for the things you did to encourage book loving, in me and in all your kids.

I've started taking steps, by reading to my girl, codename: Gracie already. She doesn't seem to understand any of it yet, mostly she likes the pictures, and she gets really mad sometimes that I generally won't let her put the non-board books in her mouth, but that's okay.

It is really weird to think of imparting this love to her, well, practically by myself, in comparison with the way I was raised. When I think about it a little more I realize it's going to be fine and that I won't be alone, but...

I had eleven older brothers and sisters. For the most part, I liked the same books they liked. They were very good at finding me more and more and more books to read. It was lovely. And then, with being homeschooled, despite all the flaws, that love of reading was just reinforced more and more.

I... don't actually know when I learned to read. See, when you're the twelfth child, these kinds of milestones aren't so much... memorialized as they are in normal families. I do have different clues, however, and they point to a pretty young age. Maybe as early as three, probably four at the latest. I'm not sure. I know that it was before Mom was going to "officially" start me in school. There were a couple subjects she let me pressure her into starting early, and they did involve reading. I really really wanted to be like my cool older brothers, and to do what they were doing.

Gracie doesn't have older brothers. And at public school, I'm pretty sure the cool kids don't love reading. As things stand right now, it's not unlikely that we'll put her in public school.

I'll be very very happy and proud of my daughter whether she learns to read at three or not. Of course. But it's weird to me to think of letting her schoolteachers teach her to read, rather than me teaching her.

On the other hand, I don't have much of an idea of how to teach someone to read, other than vague ideas about reading to them a lot. I seem to remember that's how my mother did it, but mostly I remember the early days of knowing how, not the days leading up to it. I don't remember having to learn my letters. It's all easy, right? Right?

Well, it's not something I'm very worried about at this point. Just a little different to think about. Parents passing on nerdiness, rather than siblings? That's a world I couldn't imagine as a child, despite my mother teaching me to read.

I agree with some other posts I've seen out there -- one way to teach a love of reading is to let kids read what they want (particularly liked this comment on that last link). On the other hand, I know firsthand that reverse psychology is another way -- give the kids a 7:00 bedtime and forbid them to read in bed! But I don't want to go that route.

What about you? How do you, did you, or would you impart a love of reading (or a love of anything else) to your children? What's one gift, one ability that your mother gave you, that you're particularly thankful for?

Pieces

Pieces

I saw pieces of my mother
in my home the other day.
I tried to put them back together,
but they wouldn't fit --
not the same way.

I saw pieces of my mother
and I tried to talk with them.
One conversed quite nicely,
but from others --
just a blank stare.

I found pieces of my mother,
and pieces,
and pieces.
No matter where I looked for her,
the whole just wasn't there.


I said something about pieces of her in a facebook conversation about my mother's dementia, and that inspired this poem. I'm not sure it's an accurate representation of my feelings, it's just the poem that came to me. Sorry if that's a cop-out.

An alternate first stanza that might reflect the truth a little better would be something like,

"I saw pieces of my mother
in my home the other day.
I didn't try to reassemble them --
knew they wouldn't fit --
wish I'd tried, all the same."

But I don't like the sound of that as much. The rhythm isn't quite right.

The rhymes and words are so simple, it seems a little odd in light of my last post on rhythm and rhyme. Odd in light of the fact that it's the sounds of the words that drove my writing, more than the feelings. It seems sort of like something a child would write. Like I would have written, as a child. Perhaps it's okay, a good juxtaposition with the subject matter? What do you think? I think it seems to work, in fact I'm growing quite fond and proud of it, but I'm biased. I can never see my own writing very clearly, with the same eyes that read everything else. Or at the most, it seems to take years of not looking at it.

This one appeared almost wholly formed in my mind at 1:30 in the morning about a month ago. I hate to say things like that, it contributes to an idea that writing is all about inspiration, rather than time and work. It's work, for a number of reasons. Enjoyable work that I can't keep myself from doing, but I also need to sit down at my desk and commit myself to get anywhere. As Philip Pullman says when asked where he gets his ideas from, “I don’t know where they come from, but I know where they come to: they come to my desk, and if I’m not there, they go away again.”

Nonetheless, this poem did more or less "appear." It was kind of like a quick slideshow -- I'd follow one line to see where it was going, and then the next would materialize. I suppose that's a part of the work of writing -- Kristin Cashore said she thinks Neil Gaiman said that "everyone has ideas, the difference with writers is that writers notice that they're having an idea."

It takes practice to notice, too (as reading more of the link above would corroborate). It takes writing to be on the lookout for writing ideas. (At least for me.)

I noticed a phrase repeating in my head that sounded a bit to me like a line from a poem: "I saw pieces of my mother," or maybe it was simply "pieces of my mother." I went from there. I got up out of bed and wrote it down, and crossed out words here and there, replaced some of them with others. And there it was.

Of course, talking about my writing process as though I am a writer, one of the ones Neil Gaiman was talking about... it sounds kind of arrogant, if you don't like the poem, if it doesn't work. If it does work, well... then maybe it's okay.

So, feedback? Do you like it? Any similar sorrows you're struggling with? Or tell me, what do you think about the balance between work and inspiration, not just in writing, but in any creative endeavor? Or about the balance of self-criticism? Is there something personal you've been wanting to share somewhere, but you're doubting yourself?

Judging by the number of questions here, maybe I'm trying to do too much with this post, and should be more focused. Meh.

To shift back a little to the poem's subject matter:

Let us pray for all who suffer and are afflicted in body or in mind;

For the hungry and the homeless, the destitute and the oppressed
For the sick, the wounded, and the crippled
For those in loneliness, fear, and anguish
For those who face temptation, doubt, and despair
For the sorrowful and bereaved
For prisoners and captives, and those in mortal danger

That  God in his mercy will comfort and relieve them, and grant them the knowledge of his love, and stir up in us the will and patience to minister to their needs.

Gracious God, the comfort of all who sorrow, the strength of all who suffer: Let the cry of those in misery and need come to you, that they may find your mercy present with them in all their afflictions; and give us, we pray, the strength to serve them for the sake of him who suffered for us, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
 -The Book of Common Prayer, from the Liturgy for Good Friday

Insert Funny Caption Here

I can't do anything in the proper order. I am inordinate. The first pictures I post here of Gracie ought to be the best pictures, the most beautiful, adorable, etc.

Instead I shall post this semi-recent one that amused me vastly.

Newborns have a startle reflex. Gracie's startle reflex is quite alive and well. Especially in some of her sleep cycles. She'll throw her arms up and out, quite possibly literally at the drop of a hat. At least if it's a heavy hat and dropping it makes a bit of a noise.

So... the other day I tried to take a picture of her sleeping in a rather odd/amusing/cute (don't actually remember which) pose. But it was in low light, so when the sound of the "shutter" on my camera phone made her startle, what I actually captured was this:

Okay, okay, I'll post a couple semi-recent cute ones, too. So many I could choose, but these shall suffice. For now.

I ought to be sleeping...

...but... it's not that I'm tired of sleeping, per se... it's just that I'm tired of getting to do so very little else.

Yesterday my baby: codename Gracie (because Apocalyptica the Flimflammer is taken already) turned one month old. I know I'm doing well to be doing as much as I am, but that doesn't change the fact that I want more. I want more than to nurse her, burp her, change her diaper, burp and soothe her to sleep, fall asleep, nurse, burp, change diaper, soothe to sleep, grab a snack, unwisely waste some time online on my phone even though I could do that while nursing and I should be sleeping, nurse, burp, change diaper, burp and soothe to sleep, brush my teeth...

I mean, I have done other things. For example, two nights ago I went to SLOBS, a book club, and read For the Time Being by Auden with them. Lovely. But on the scales, against being on call 27/7, those other things... well, they suffice at first, they feel great at first... and then, hours back into the nursing and burping routine again, and I need another break.

This is just the way it is with a new baby, I know. If not much, much worse. I'm simply trying to explain, for my own sake if no one else's, why I'm blogging right now instead of using the valuable time to sleep.

And... I'm going to stop with that explanation. Lame, but I decided even before she was born that I'd like to try publishing posts before I think they're "finished," to settle for "parts" of posts, as a mind trick to get myself to post shorter pieces, and more often. Especially the more often part. Can't expect to ever do much with this blog, as I want to, if I don't post more often. Right after having a baby is rather a silly time to try to change that, but... well... I'm nothing if not silly.

Excuse me, someone is dropping her pacifier every other second, which means she's working up to the screaming hunger. Oh, wait, no, now she's falling asleep. I'm so confused. Hmm. Might be the power of "Don't Try" by Marian Call playing in the background. Maybe. Or maybe she just finally got tired of being awake. Meh. On to something else. I might even (gasp) read a book!

Because we crack ourselves up.

No, not the royal we. There were two of us. With the cracking.

And because I know you were wondering about the true depth of my nerdery and weirdness. Admit it. You were. Um.

Or if you were just wanting to read something funny... that works, too. At least, it does if you have a certain sort of temperament, and certain interests. You might not find it too amusing otherwise.

So, Melanie and I had this conversation on facebook a couple days ago. Mostly us, a few other people at the beginning and end.

I've rearranged some of the comments for flow and clarity, as sometimes one of us would post something before seeing the other person's technically earlier comment. But that, removing a last name here and there, and adding some links are all the changes I've made. The part at the beginning isn't quite as entertaining to me, but I've included it anyway because it sets the stage a little better than I seem to be able to manage with summary.

Melanie's original status: "Heh, I just realized I'm not sure I've spoken a single word today. Funny thing about living alone and staying home sick. Kind of nice given what my throat feels like. :P

No, wait, Peter called me. Talking to him hurt... 

Hmm, I find myself wondering when, if ever, I truly haven't spoken a word in a given day. Even on those days when I did nothing but read I generally met family when I emerged to get food... and if I stay home alone all day I normally call someone..." 

• Melanie: ‎...and if I'm home all day and no one is around and my throat isn't on fire, I'm afraid I am somewhat likely to say a few words out loud to myself anyway...

• Liz: Yeah, that is unlikely to happen for me. I talk to inanimate objects. And the cat.

• Kate: I usually catch myself singing... today it's been the Imperial March and She's Out of Our Hair from Monster's Inc (among other things)

• Melanie: Oh, if we count singing, there is virtually zero chance that there has ever been such a day since I was a very small child.
  
  I even sang a couple lines today, though I forced myself to stop because it's dumb to risk the damage to my voice that is at least somewhat possible from singing when sick. And because it hurt a lot and my voice didn't sound good anyway, but those were lesser reasons. :P

• Kate: Yeah, it's can feel good, but hurt at the same time, probably best to take it easy.

• Me: Yeah, a sore throat is one of the few times when I'm not feeling well that it *isn't* a good idea to listen to Marian Call. Because it's so hard to keep from singing along.
  
  I said hi to the lettuce the other day. John thinks this is weird.

• Melanie: John *would* think that. :nods:
  
  Say hi to Llaves-sama for me.

• Me: Will do. As soon as I'm alone in this room... :D

• Me: THERE. Llaves-sama has been greeted.

• Melanie: Yay! Thank you. :D

• Melanie: ‎(Major points to anyone not us who figures out what "Llaves-sama" means.)

• Me: Oh, by the way, this was actually little sprouts of lettuce growing in a planter, not lettuce from the fridge. Because, you know. This MAKES A DIFFERENCE.

• Melanie: Oh! Well then OF COURSE you said hello. Silly John. :)

• Me: EXACTLY. ^_^ I mean, they didn't even used to be there. They were all new and cute.
  
  Not that I'm above saying hi to a boring old mature lettuce from a fridge, but STILLLLL... :D

• Melanie: On a *completely* unrelated note, ;) I do love knowing little bits of four languages. Marcy, did I ever tell you about the time I said, hmm, I think it was, "Pues, adieu until mañana"? Because I said it. Naturally. Without trying. (If I had been trying, I would have said, "Jaa, adieu until mañana.")

• Me: I'm not sure if you did or not. I like it.
  
  LITERALLY.
  
  Um. "How jolly the lot of an oligoglot!"

• Melanie: It *was* a little frustrating in French class, when I finally got over my habit of saying "pero" in the middle of my French sentences, only to have to fight saying "demo." "Mais" only got used with a very conscious effort...

• Melanie: ‎"Literally." Haha!

• Me: Yeah, but "How frustrating (at times) the lot of an oligoglot" just does NOT have the same ring to it. :-P

• Melanie: No. Nor is it as true. Oligoglocy is jolly. :D

• Me: You said "oligoglocy." *giggles*

• Melanie: Why yes, I did! I thought you would enjoy that. :bows:

• Me: ‎:claps:

• Me: I feel like I should blog this conversation. It's entertaining ME vastly, anyway.

• Melanie: And me. And we're totally normal specimans of humanity, after all.

• Me: TOTALLY. Well, I'm pretty sure my blog isn't exactly for normal specimens... but yeah.
  
  Ooh, I have a niche, finally! Um, right, Marcy. Because naturally, ALL non-normal specimens of humanity will LOVE *your* blog. Naturally.

• Melanie: Naturally! WHY WOULDN'T THEY?

• Me: ALL THE REASONS! Er, I mean, NONE OF THE REASONS!!!

• Melanie: Oo, maybe your niche is oligoglots? That would be jolly.

• Me: Ooh, yeah, but just the jolly oligoglots. None of those mopey ones. *nods*

• Melanie: Do you ever wonder if anyone else has ever said exactly the same sentence before? Because I'm pretty sure we've gotten some completely original sentences in here.

• Me: ‎^_^ Seems likely. I've wondered that with a twitter hashtag before, and had it confirmed that no one else had... but I couldn't use it, ended up being too long.

• Melanie: How could any oligoglot be mopey? IMPOSSIBLE.

• Me: You'd think. :) Maybe some of them are less... enthusiastically nerdy oligoglots, and more... ACCIDENTAL OLIGOGLOTS. Hai.

• Melanie: Demo c'est tan jolly! How could even accidental oligoglots fail to see how jolly their lot??!?

• Me: The mind boggles, ma'am.

• Melanie: Hai.

• Me: So, I added my latest twitter updates to my blog sidebar. So next time I make a comment about it, there it is! Woo!

• Me: There ought to be a word for people who speak quotes from several sources. Or at least make references to them. So far in the last hour or so I've channeled Willow, Tohru, and Jeeves. :is proud: Though Tohru was semi-accidental.

• Me: Oh, right. We're called "nerds."
  
  Yeah, but that's not as... *specific* as I want.

• Melanie: Oo, I missed Willow... but only because her style of speech is so natural on you. ^__^

• Me: ‎:) Well, that was actually on twitter. And the first "HAI" was there, too.

• Melanie: Ohhh... Okay. Well, some of what you've said here wouldn't be out of place in Willow's mouth. :)

 

• Me: I suppose not. This makes me happy. :) Hi, Willow!
  
  Other part of brain: Um, she's not exactly here, you know...
  Me: <_<   >_> And this makes a difference because...?

• Melanie: ‎"Willow, Tohru, and Jeeves walk into a bar..."

• Me: I WANT TO SEE THAT. ^_^

• Melanie: ME TOO.

• Melanie: And the bartender says, "Who IS that girl?"

• Me: ‎:drools:

• Melanie: And Jeeves says, "Honda Tohru-san, sir."

• Me: ‎:giggles:

• Me: Keep going, keep going... :is unhelpful with the creation of this awesome fan fic:

• Melanie: And the bartender says, "No, I mean the Eskimo!"

• Me: Duh! And Jeeves looks very slightly disgruntled.

• Melanie: It is, of course, even better when Willow, Tohru, Jeeves, and Binabik walk into a bar.

• Me: O_o
  
  Well, we knew if we really wanted we could add other awesome characters, but... well played, ma'am. Well played.

• Melanie: I'm not sure exactly where the conversation goes from there, but it becomes very difficult to prevent Jeeves from pouring everyone's drinks and to prevent Tohru from doing, well, everything.

• Me: ‎^_^ Indeed. And Binabik probably shares some wise sayings, maybe even some that we haven't heard before. I mean, he doesn't tend to repeat himself with those. As far as we know. Ooh...

• Melanie: I have no talent for writing Binabik-like proverbs, but they would definitely add.

• Me: ‎:tries to think of a Qanuc saying to tone down Tohru's fervor for doing everything: :fails, but is amused:

• Melanie: ‎"The bees are not thanking you for making honey."
  
  ...Not quite, especially since I don't think bees do well on mountain peaks, but it's my most valiant attempt.

• Me: ‎:nods: It's pretty good (:is impressed:), but you're right, we need a mountain-peak-type phenomenon.

• Melanie: ‎(I just barely caught myself in time not to say "Bees do not thank...")

• Me: Heh heh, that would be Wrong.

• Me: Ooh, maybe something along the lines of, "The fish are not needing you to teach them to swim"?? But with more doing, less teaching...

• Melanie: Yeah, and that's too derivative of English proverbs. Binabik is never derivative.

• Me: Very true.

• Me: I forgot.

• Me: I mean, the English proverbs, not that Binabik is never derivative.

• Melanie: Hee hee. "If the bears are not eating you, then it is home." Hee hee. ♥ Binabik.

• Me: That's not a new one at all! :is offended: :not really:

• Me: ‎"Send the man with the oily tongue to go and lick the snowshoes."

• Melanie: Nor appropriate to the situation. Just... remembering...

• Me: Indeed.

• Melanie: Let me see, "The goats are not asking you to be making them fur coats"?

• Me: Ooh, I like it.

• Me: Come to think of it, he could tell this to Jeeves AND Tohru. Everybody wins!

• Melanie: Especially everyone else in the bar!

• Me: Yes, especially the EVERYONE.

• Me: But Willow might *think* he somehow is talking to her too, since she's dressed like an Eskimo. Fur and all. Though he might be wearing some too, not because it's hot, but because what else does he have...?

• Me: Heh heh, no Willow, he's not calling you a goat.

• Melanie: Yes. And I find myself wanting Oz to be playing in a band or something so he can be oddly fascinated by Binabik. ;)

• Me: ‎:D But he needs to be oddly fascinated by Willow! Oh wait, that's not odd. And yeah, Oz and Binabik... I think they would get along.

• Melanie: Right? Though I was mostly just making a, "No, the Eskimo!" joke.

• Me: They can talk with Willow about animal cookies and monkey pants.

• Melanie: Um, so I should probably eat something today...

• Me: You should. Besides animal cookies and monkey pants. :nods:
  
  Hee hee. "See, I like that you're unpredictable..."

• Melanie: You know a Facebook comment thread has run amok when you feel compelled to excuse yourself when you need to go.

• Me: Hmmph. As long as you come back later, young lady. ^_^
  
  Um, I should probably actually do some work... >_>

• Me: I have decided on a blog title. It shall be named, "Because we crack ourselves up."

• Kate: You ladies crack me up too.

• Me: Oh good. Thanks! That makes three of us. :D But hey, it's ALL of the people who've stated a preference one way or the other! So there ya go!

• Me: Ooh, I'm thinking after Binabik's line Tohru will apologize profusely, then get all flustered, trying to figure out what to do if she's not helping people. Jeeves might say, "Quite right, sir," bow, and continue serving drinks with full aplomb.

• Melanie: That sounds extremely accurate.

• Melanie: If Tohru gets it. She might not.

• Melanie: Jeeves might have to explain.

• Melanie: Hee hee... :remembers:
  
  "I'm SO SORRY!" :shakes cat-Kyo in her vehemence:

• Me: He might. Ooh, I don't think she'd apologize to Jeeves for explaining and shake him (she'd apologize to Binabik), but... it'd be awesome if she did. I'm imagining the dignity. Heh heh. YOSH.

• Melanie: YOSH.
  
  While I'm getting carried away... :imagines Chiyo-chan there too:

• Melanie: The best character combination ever, of course, remains Ranma-meets-Kyo.

• Melanie: Because there is such a long inevitable string of events which ensues ending in Ranma shrieking and running away in terror.

• Melanie: I think we don't have nearly enough of Willow's reactions to the whole situation.

• Me: Now that's just crazy talk. :D The Chiyo-chan part, I mean.

• Melanie: Yeah, Chiyo-chan isn't old enough to drink! :realizes that Willow and Tohru aren't either:

•  Me: Yeah, but Willow would just get the thing on her hand and look all cute about it.

• Melanie: ‎Marcy, you know why Ranma shrieks and runs away, right?

• Me: Because he's girl-type Ranma and hugs Kyo??

• Melanie: Well, you've got a lot of it.

• Melanie: First inevitable event: They get in a fight. (Duh. It's Ranma and Kyo.)

• Me: Well yeah.

• Melanie: Second inevitable event: They fall in a pool of water, or it starts raining, or someone splashes them, or something. (Duh. It's Ranma fighting.)

• Melanie: Third inevitable event: Ranma turns into girl-type Ranma.

• Me: Indeed. Inevitable.

• Melanie: You've got it from there.

• Melanie: Well, and they would probably fall in while grappling, which would count as a hug.

• Me: I think Willow would react rather more calmly than everyone else. Well, except for Jeeves. Okay, she might freak out. *Quietly.*

• Melanie: Binabik would be pretty calm too. Tohru would be the loud, frantic one.

• Me: Yes. I think Willow would mostly watch, and be quiet and frantic if they tried to draw her in in weird ways. Make her go on stage or something.

• Ron: By the way, I'm mostly just amused that y'all managed 118 comments on a post that was originally just about not talking much that day.
  
  I'm pretty sure the conversation qualifies as a tangent.

• Melanie: ‎*A* tangent? We took tangents upon tangents, sir! WE ARE TANGENT MASTERS!!!

• Melanie: You will note, though, that I was a little starved for human conversation. In that sense, it was all applicable.