working work working work
I got more writing done yesterday than expected, and wrote already today. Weee! Getting there!
Think I will listen to a few chaps of an audiobook in progress now, then write some more.
Do you write for a living?
The gift that was not
C&Ping this very sad comment I posted on a thread elsewhere, privately, about my grief. Specifically, re: talking to my kids about grief over the baby we didn’t have this year.
I still think of them both as “babies” although it clearly would have just been one child. I know other people are much more inclined to write off an early mc as a non-child. The following is not for those people.
A bit better this morning but a tough evening. We’d have been expecting our new Christmas gift any moment!
I’ll come to grips with this eventually. I don’t begrudge any of these pregnant women [with new babies and ultrasound pics whose FB posts are making me very sad], and rationally I KNOW most of them will never be blessed with four healthy kids like I have been…so it’s def not about *them* and the genuine good wishes I feel toward them.
My boys asked me why I was crying last night, so I told them. My ten y.o. said “But you’ve got all of us!”
I def don’t want to make them feel any less wanted, and when one of them says something like that, I don’t know how to proceed, actually.
I ended up telling them that when you know you’re expecting another baby, a space opens up in your heart that is only filled by that child. It doesn’t diminish the love you feel for your other children. It’s like the TARDIS. Bigger on the inside. It just grows. And if that baby doesn’t come, then you miss it, because that space is already there and nothing can ever fill it.
Sounds so SAD! I hate that.
I told them that if I didn’t love all four of them so much, I wouldn’t have any idea how much joy a child could bring me.
I’m probably giving them a horrible complex.
I’m having one of those days when “taking a shower” is going to top my list of achievements for the day.
There were things I needed to do today. Rescheduled. Here’s hoping I’ll feel better by then.
I’m not sick. Just tired.
We had a fabulous Thanksgiving! Truly! It was a fun, fun holiday weekend.
The tree is even up in the living room—the first real tree I’ve had in a few years. Smells terrific. Drinks like a FISH, can’t keep up with the dang thing (but we’ll keep trying for at least 21 more days—no promises on Christmas Day!).
The main thing I want to achieve today, there is no way in hell I can do: write. I was looking forward to resuming my writing routine yesterday, and while I got a lot of work done (ads, consulting, a review written for IMJ, tending the Cyber Monday sale), I did not find a moment to work on fiction. The whole day felt backward, like I was doing things out of order. If I don’t write first and do everything else afterward, I feel like a failure. I could do an insane amount of work, but if I don’t write, I feel like a failure.
And you want to know the weird thing about that? Much of what I did yesterday ensured my family will enjoy Christmas. Particularly the children. It’s not *easy* coordinating gifts for 4 kids and 1 adult. Internally, though, I hear myself poo-pooing and scoffing at that time. ”That can’t be considered *real work,* Leslea? Who are you trying to kid?”
It’s not income-producing work, but it required time (hours, over the course of weeks, culminating in yesterday’s finalization of plans and tonight’s outward bound trip to two stores), thought, and effort. It wore me out. That plus the holiday wore me out.
And I didn’t write (my fiction) before I did it because I didn’t want to wait until the last minute and blow it this year. I sacrificed one day.
Now I’m sacrificing two.
But do I have a choice?
I’m so tired, all I want to do is take a nap. There’s no way GiGi will let me, but I’m going to try.
It sounds very “white womany” to say that I need a day off to recover from my vacation and from holiday shopping. My eyes are rolling out of my head and across the floor at the mere implication that these are *real* problems.
That doesn’t change the fact I can barely hold my eyes open right now.
So am I supposed to feel bad about post-holiday exhaustion, on top of physically feeling exhausted? I’m thinking “No.”
Enjoy your day today. I’m hoping for a nap and a shower and if I get those two things done, it’ll be a huge win!
Waiting on the parade to start, thinking about the cinnamon rolls, wondering if I should make them bacon-cinnamon rolls…
Then, the dog show and cooking!
And then, the eating!
Hope your day is wonderful!
I had an extroverted friend who missed the memo on this one. She hurt me pretty severely. She didn’t hurt me because she was an extrovert, though. She hurt me because she was a narcissistic asshole who burns through friends like some people burn through a tank of gas.
Hey, guess what, tumblr? Being a grown up doesn’t make this shit go away. In fact, sometimes it makes it a lot harder to bear. I miss my friend.
I miss the friend I thought I had.
The great thing about being an adult is being able to accept what I can’t change, and have the courage to continue to love my friends, and make new ones in the wake of such a deep hurt and disappointment.