*The whole “I’ll-Give-You-A-Number” and you share things no one knows about you meme that’s going around on Facebook is decidedly difficult when you’re a person who has few secrets. I mean, I have them, but the sort of secrets that most people share are ones I’ve already revealed. I found myself digging deep about mustard-and-sugar sandwiches of my childhood and my still-deep need to get another tattoo. Yawn.
*I really love this woman. One of the practices I have for myself these days is to actively surround myself with writing and people who are purposely and unapologetically positive. As almost a way of living, I’m generally positive, but I’m so cynical and paranoid and self-absorbed. We all are, I know, but in the moments when I feel these traits cranked up to 11, I read people such as Rachel Cole or Anne Lamott and I’m quickly reminded it’s not about me, I probably just need to take a deep breath and go hug someone.
*I’m off to the doctor this morning for the first time since Abigail was born. I went from being someone who went each year religiously to an OB-GYN to nothing in almost three years. I’ve had two friends diagnosed with ovarian cancer in that time, and one lost her life from it, so I ought to be smacked for this. I can chalk it up to leaving my OB-GYN just two months before AG was due, rendering me without one for the first time in a decade, but really I just put it off.
*Abigail this past weekend looked at me and said, “I love carrots. And I love cupcakes. And I love you.” She says all sorts of randomly awesome things like that these days, because she’s a toddler and they are randomly awesome. Yesterday was the first day in a long time where she was somewhat back to her old self, though even then we had some hills to climb. We’re headed back to her ENT in two weeks because screw all of this. My kid should seriously not be this sick all of the damn tine, even with kids at her age getting sick so often. THREE WEEKS, folks. This kid has been sick for THREE WEEKS.
*Speaking of medical treatment, I saw a new dentist this past week. My teeth and gums are still a janky mess, but they seem to have gotten better, save for the revelation that I apparently grind my teeth like it’s my job. This was mentioned to me last year, by another dentist, but more like an afterthought. This trip, however, the grinding was presented as having more dire consequences, namely, my teeth have been ground down to nubs. Or something like that. Night guards are pretty common of course, and it’s not as though this is any sort of big deal, but apparently my jaw ache and morning headaches can be attributed to the teeth grinding. This reminded me of what it felt like to learn I had Hashimoto’s Disease. All of these little niggling things that cause me irritation and pain have a source, and it’s not just “Eh, life.” I think when you’re raised and are subsequently built to just “get over” things, you don’t pay much mind to slight physical pains as something someone can help you with. At least if you’re me.
*And finally in more mundane news, this weekend was the first weekend in the history of our almost eight years together that Scott got sick and I did not. I’ve always wondered if my husband was sort of superhuman about colds and such things and now I know: I’ve just gotten more awesome.