I am still awake.

It's True. You Really Can't Stop Time

Last night, the eve of the 23^rd of August, is a night where three years ago, I suffered the loss of having only one child. Now that I've had some time to reflect, I can validate that I was completely warranted in my sadness. My relationship with my firstborn changed a lot the next day, some for the better, some for the not. I still miss that little two-year-old boy. He's now a sharp, determined five year-old that I wouldn't have recognized in 2010. Of course, I've also gotten to know another incredible small person.

This evening, I'm having a difficult time coping with the truth, once again. My youngest, my baby, my sweet tiny Fuzzball, is no longer a baby.

I didn't plan for this kind of emotional tornado.

Physics and The Forces of Nature and (Self)-Nurture

I was never particularly good at science. My one recurring nightmare is that classic:

“Today's the day I take the college exam for the class I didn't even know I was taking!”

It's always a science class. Always.

It might have something to do with the C- I got in Plant Biology my senior year, and all the classes I skipped, causing me to get that C-. I was rebelling, I guess. We had to take TWO four credit lab sciences to graduate- a stupid STUPID rule that I hope they've eradicated now that it's resulted in endless years of therapy.

Oh right, I still don't have a therapist. But when I get one...the amount I give to my alma mater's annual fund may be substantially lower. . .

Meanwhile,

And I'm Still Awake

The insomnia has been a raging force of late.

It's unexpected, considering my children practically sleep through the night at this point.*

It has also presented itself in rather annoying ways. Often, I can fall asleep pretty easily but then an hour later am jolted awake in one of two ways:

1. Any noise or movement at all, kid or non-kid related: For example, my husband flipped on the light switch in the bathroom the other night. It woke me up. 

2. The excitement/realization that I actually have fallen asleep: If it's not bad enough that my brain is swirling with all kinds of ideas, when I start to fall asleep, my conscious self wants to give my sub-conscious a little pat on the back for doing such a good job. Sabotage.

99 Problems or Thereabouts

I noticed after reading Time Magazine a few too many times, they have this little formulaic thing they do with a cover story. In a center 2-page spread they'll have all sorts of side-bar graphics with statistics and little known facts about the issue.

Most of the time, these little tidbits are not grounded in anything concrete at all. 

I thought that was brilliant.

So, I made up my own for the current event of my life, which for the next 5 days is a solo parenting experience. 

Here goes:

 1 - Number of dishes I was able to do before I noticed Fuzz opened the nozzle on the 2.5 gallon jug of spring water.

2 - Number of boobies Fuzz reminds me that I still have.

Right Now, We Are The Sandwich Generation

I wish I was referring to my neglected sandwich blog in this post, but I'm not. The "sandwich generation" is a term I never even heard until this week.  As it turns out, this is who we are right now, and have been for the last couple of years.

I'm back in New York with the whole gang, all sleeping peacefully on slowly deflating airbeds in the den.  By 5am, I'm sure we'll all end up on the floor. Lucky thing, Fuzz will probably be ready to roll by then, anyway.

So, here I am,  wasting precious sleeping minutes (or lying awake looking at the ceiling minutes) posting about my right now.

My right now is not the prettiest picture, but it could be worse. 

(It could always be worse, right?)

My father is recovering from his third brain surgery. My mom is taking care of him, with some help from my sister and myself.