*whispering* We’re all healthy again. More or less. JS had a lingering cough. And I have Stomach Flu PTSD and panic at every gas pain.
Those were dark days. Dark days, indeed.
Once I got better, JS got sick. Right when we thought we were in the clear. I wasn’t totally 100%, and still exhausted from the virus, and Xander had decided he was tired of being good and inside, so my day on full baby/dog duty was pretty awful, and I may have cried more than a few times when Xander was mean to me (dude, HE BIT MY LEG). We did all survive, though. So that’s good. I was so disappointed with myself, though. I did not handle Xander’s jerkiness very well. It’s even worse because I KNOW why he was acting out – he’s teething (I swear he is getting EVERY SINGLE TOOTH all at once. Every time I manage to peek in there, there’s a new one showing it’s ass-face), he was still run down from being sick, and, you know, that whole “I know Mommy and Daddy are weak so I must exploit it” intuitive biological whatever-ness. And at times I just lost it. I snapped at him. I was mean. It got me thinking, too, because I was the kind of mean that I would never have been to a child who could speak. But, since he doesn’t talk (much), I let myself think that he didn’t understand what I was saying. Which is so lame. ( I mean, I didn’t, like, tell him I didn’t love him or that he was rotten or anything like that – though I may have thought the latter.) He understands so much. I can see it. He follows simple requests, he signs all the time, he knows what’s going on around him. He’s just not saying what he sees, yet.
I could beat myself up over it (and I did, for a day or so), but really, it just reminded me that I have to mirror the kindness and respect that I want him to learn. Gentleness is most important when you don’t think you have any gentleness to give. I need to show him how to use his words (kindly) to say when he’s angry, or sad, or tired. I can’t snap at him, and then expect him to know that when he’s overwrought he needs to stay calm. I wishI could take back that day of my grumpiness, but instead I’m going to keep it in mind as a reminder of how I don’t want to act. Kids are so impressionable. They don’t have context to tell them that “Mommy was mean because she was sick.” All they know is “Mommy was mean.”
Moving on. Bullets!
- LOST remains one of the greatest TV experiences ever. And the 2 shows produced by LOST personnel (Once Upon A Time and Alcatraz) are proving my point. So far they are both well written, clever, and don’t fall into that SUPER ANNOYING plot contrivance story line where things happen that make zero sense. Yay!
- I ran today! The first time since my half marathon this summer. This is impressive for many reasons. One, because it was cold and I ran anyway (barely above freezing…which is kinda warm in these parts, but I’m a Cali Girl still) and two, because if not for my half marathon training, there is no possible way I would have been able to just up and run three miles without any build up. But I did! This amazes me.
- Every time I cut Xander’s hair myself I say “I will never do this again!” Cut to (HA!): yeah, I cut his hair again. Just the front (do boys have bangs? if they do, I cut those) and the duck tail in the back. The back looks fine. The front, well, JS is calling him Prince Valiant. This is not a compliment. Also? If not for his curls, he’d be at total risk for a mom mullet.
- JS and I are still trying to plan a warm vacation for this winter/early spring. It’s proving difficult, as airline prices have skyrocketed and we need to deliver Xander to my parents (I love him, I do, but a vacation with a toddler is an oxymoron). I spend way too much time researching Caribbean hotels, these days.
- I have finally started working on a personal writing project. I’m excited about it, and I’ve done a pretty decent job of finding time to write, even when there is none. I tend to psych myself out about writing, so I’m not going to be blogging much about it. I want to keep the steam in the pot, so to speak.
- A week or two ago Huffington Post had one of their photo essays on famous serial killers, and I (LIKE AN IDIOT) clicked through it. Nights later, I kept having dreams of their creepy faces lurking in the background. *I* knew they were serial killers, even if no one else in my dream did. Note to self: YOU ARE A PANSY. STOP IT.
Hopefully I’ll be back to a somewhat more regular posting schedule (haaaa ha ha, schedule) now that no one is puking down my shirt. No promises, though.