Two Weeks And Counting

It's been a really tough week.  Lots of me working my ass off, and lots of changes for the boy.  Sometimes I wonder how we'll survive, because I know how ugly looks on him, and I can only imagine his visualization of my stress level.

Still, tonight, he's been calling with ideas for plans for us.  I kinda nixed the forty-dollars-each tickets to a weird play.  People, while I'm down with avant-garde art, I'm not down with paying my Southern version of Broadway prices for it.  So he found us a film festival, a few art museums with interesting installations, and a restaurant or two we should try.  This certainly suits my fancy.

Maybe I should tell Momma about the impending trip?  (Until I do, keep quiet, k?)

I Didn't Actually Eat Her

Last weekend was Lucy's first birthday.  First.  How can someone get so old so fast?  And even more delicious?  Seriously, the time does fly.

I got to the party about thirty minutes late.  (Tardy for the party?)  Luckily, that meant that all the spread was laid out and I got unbelievably delicious food while I watched baby Lucy explore the goods.

Wow.  Apparently there are many people who love to spoil Lucy.  My gift you can't see, because it was more for her folks than for her.  Next year I intend to teach her what spoiled really means.  (Don't tell her folks.)

She's getting quite good at walking, which means that in the next six months, she will no longer be delicious in a crock pot:

Instead, she knows that her nickname is LAMB - which is her initials...I'm sure she won't give her folks crap for that at fourteen...

Instead, she found another small child, who clearly needed exploring:

Maybe one or two adults told her that poking an infant was a bit rude.  Lucy (sorta) listened and then we got to the good part:

Mom and Dad are going to show me the glory of presents?  Now?  Really?  Dad, let's open...and Mom, I promise to enjoy every moment of this...

It's more than a girl can take.  It's amazing, but I'm small...

So now I'll nap.  And I will explore everything.  Soon.

Update - Finally!

I still have unreliable internet access.  There's an external wiring problem, and while I may never again pay Comcast, I may lose the clients I have that are relying on email for communication.

I'm struggling with buying my vacation tickets, and it's because I'm rather broke and worried about everything under the sun.  I really want to go, and I guess I'm waiting for some kind of sign.

Could you send me a sign, please?  I just need to wake up safely for a few days, and being around the boy is the only way I'm able to do that.

Nightmares about break-ins, one night of almost-sleep before the shower caddy un-suctioned itself from the wall...I need a break.

But the money part worries me, and knowing that Momma will be PISSED when I tell her I'm going (I mentioned the money part, right?) freezes my ability to buy tickets.

Again, please, soon - sign?

Grrr. Hiss. Spit.

I've not been writing lately not because I don't love you, but because Comcast has afforded me approximately two minutes of internet a day, and really, who doesn't consider Facebook more important than blogging?

Even now, I'm hoping this will post.  The tech comes out NEXT TUESDAY.  Until then, I'll try my best, and also make contorted faces every time I pass the office and cannot use the most important device in the office.

Balancing

I've been a little lost in translation because I've been trying to figure out what makes me feel like this...

The boy has joined a group that is, for lack of a better (or more current) word, a community organizing group.  He loves it.  He does, he does, he tells me at length every night about the group's plans and decisions, and he tells me about meeting all these new people who really seem to get him.

This, I think, is wonderful.  Too much time spent with ourselves is a bit soul-destroying.  I'm so happy, and dare I say, proud of him, for making this choice and being so happy.

The downside for me is that when he tells me his stories, it reminds me of times in my life when I had that sort of support.  I got my M.Ed. in counseling and in order to do that, I had to take a class in group therapy.  Until then, I had been been completely adverse to group therapy.  How could I trust a circle of strangers when I still make my friends jump through hoops before I could trust them?  But this class, and this mini-group therapy really helped.  I trusted that group.  It also reminds me of being the president of an animal rights group in law school, and how those meetings really inspired me.

I want the boy to do his damnded best in these groups.  And I think I need more interactions.

An Interruption In Service

Lost in thought, the kind that I've not decided tht I'll share.

Back soon.

Energy on HIGH

Just got home, and after working on some much-neglected emails and billing, the phone rang.  The boy!  Yay!  I chattered at him about my day.  He told me he woke up an hour ago.  I helpfully suggested that maybe a bender would put him to sleep.  He wisely shot down that idea.

What?  A bender doesn't seem like a good idea?  What is this world coming to?  What are we, nearing 40 years....

Damn.

Anyhoo, I guess that he should not be the first person I talk to when I get home, because I'm chock-full of news and stories and fun tidbits and plans for the rest of the week and ideas about fork-stabbings and much mocking of a singing cat.  The boy asks, "Are you manic?"  No, I tell him, this is actually my normal energy level after a full night of sleep and some good news at the courthouse. 

Needless to say, less than five minutes passed before he decided he needed to go brush his teeth.  (Bringing the sexy in this relationship, I tell ya!)

I think I need to go find a treadmill to dance on or a boxing man to slap around.  I'll be calmer later when you call back, baby.