Apparently, it’s been the season of “what -now-?” around here lately.
It started with the seemingly endless string of illnesses – colds, stomach bugs, the flu, you name it. Most recently, something like rotovirus hit the household on the Monday before Thanksgiving and kept Vic home from school and myself home from work on Tuesday. There was more sick after the excesses of Thanksgiving. Then there was some kerfluffle involving the online interactive game that Sabs and I play on.
Most distressing and touching of all though, was the birth, at 28 weeks of my friends’ daughter, Maya on the 29th. I’ve been doing my equivalent of praying since she was born, for both her and her family. The good news is that she’s doing very well and is strong and healthy, even though she only weighs just under 2lbs. She’s cute as a button too, just so perfectly tiny. I’ve been thinking about her and her Mama and Papa a lot all week and crocheting away on little things to send.
Nowhere near as high up on the stress scale, is the atrocious hair cut I gave myself this past Sunday. I’ve been cutting my own hair for several months now, but I suppose it was only a matter of time before I slipped up. This time I cut the wrong parts too short. My hair is all short in the back and long in the front and has this weird shelf thing going on in the back. I hid it under a scarf all day yesterday and then made an attempt at evening up the back this morning. It’s quite a trick to do that when you can’t really see what you’re doing. Apparently though, it worked, because my co-workers are not running away from me, screaming in horror.
The clock is also ticking for our trip back East. The Benadryl did in fact work, though it led to increased crankiness before Vic conked out. So I definitely won’t use it unless it’s a case of sheer desperation. I’m trying to focus on the good side of the impending trip though. Getting to see my family, Vic getting to see family and also getting to visit with Sam and Keet and give them hugs in person for little Maya.
‘Tis the season to be jolly after all … and I’m trying, I swear, I’m trying.