Miscellaneous

And the un-blogger of the year award goes to...

...me.

I haven't forgotten the blog, but I've been pathetically exhausted when I come home at night.  When I can stay awake, I work a bit on Geni and then collapse.  Otherwise, I just collapse.  (After feeding the child, bathing the child, and putting PJs on the now-squirmy-covered-with-lotion child.)  I get up around 5:30, I get home around 6:30, and Peach goes to sleep around 7-8. 

We had some wonderful potty episodes with the Peach - like, she used it, knew what she was doing, and did both jobs - over last weekend and Monday, but now she has apparently either lost interest or forgotten the whole thing.  I ask her if she wants to go potty and she says, enunciating clearly, "No."  The best she'll do is a few dribbles, and then she wants to get up.  And then pee on the floor. 

Her vocabulary is growing, but more than that, I love the enunciation and inflection in her words.  She can really express herself, and put all sorts of heavy emotions into a "No" or a "Night Night" or "Please" or "Mama" and "Daddy."  (Why is Daddy easier to say than Mommy, I wonder?)   She was given dolls for Christmas and puts them to bed and tries to feed them.  It cracks me up. 

Other news:

• I used my Christmas bonus to pay my whopping 2007 federal tax bill.  Yes, I realize the irony there.  No, I'm not happy about it.  Let me just say this: do not employ household help, for oh SO many reasons.
• My cholesterol total on Tuesday was 297.  Yes.  297.  I knew it was high, but not that high, Jesus H. Christ.  So, I am taking another pill now. 
• Matthew is having surgery on his neck/back at C5-C7 next Thursday, with an optimistic 7-10 day out-of-work estimate.  I don't believe in prayer, but good wishes are always welcome.  No, I don't really know if there's a practical difference, so call it what you want.  Please just send some.  :) 
• Some of you may know that I come from a long line of depressed, self-medicating alcoholics.  If not, you know now.  Like all of them, I am depressed, but fortunately not self-medicating - I let the MDs do that. The wine and beer I buy live in the pantry and I drink maybe - maybe - once every three or four months.  I lead a normal life, and most of the time I don't even realize my underlying condition is depressed, because why would it even occur to me? 
• Anyway, I thought that it would be a smart idea to get a psychiatrist to oversee the depression meds, what with the cholesterol and triglycerides making my visits to the internist that much more interesting these days.  Because I am OCD and because I myself like organized clients, and because I have a complicated backstory that is extremely tedious to get into, I typed up a four or five page precis on my life.  The doctor?  Not impressed. Didn't even read it.  First question he asked me was "why is it important for you to maintain such tight control over yourself?"  Uh....well....why do you think?  Anyway, I ended up having to actually think about what I said, and was in the position of having someone examining everything I said with skepticism, which was disturbing and interesting at the same time.  Much better insight into my clients' experience, in any case.  At least I don't have a couch in my office, though.  (Bonus: he is three floors directly above my office, so I don't even have to go outside!)
• I thought this was good advice. 

Full post as published by The Menagerie on January 16, 2009 (boomark / email).