This is a bowl I painted for Bex and Jeremy. Bex commissioned me to paint it and probably thought she was going to pay for it, but they just got engaged and I was going to give it to them as an engagement present. I’ve had it all wrapped carefully in bubble wrap and sitting in a box for the past week, just waiting for me to make another batch of apricot cookies so I could include a few of those in the box. Last night I baked, so tonight I thought I’d finish getting the package ready to mail.

When I picked up the box, one of the flaps caught on something, and before I could stop it the box tipped sideways and the bowl flipped out and landed upside-down on the hardwood floor. I held my breath as I picked it up, not sure what I’d find, because I’ve dropped pottery before from greater heights with no harm done. But this time it was broken into many pieces plus dozens of chips and a fine layer of dust. It wasn’t even superglueable.

I’m sorry, Bex and Jeremy. It’s going to be a little while longer before I can ship your bowl to you. *Sigh.*

This sort of sums up my week, actually. I’m not sure which is worse: going into the holiday season with a cold, or thinking right up till the afternoon of Christmas Eve that I was going to have a healthy, snot-free Christmas for once and then getting knocked FLAT by a cold. I was over the worst of it by the end of Christmas Day, but I’m still coughing and sleeping more than normal and feeling worn-down. Annalie was sick all this week, too. It was pretty much a bummer. Bah humbug.

The good news is, it’s almost the weekend. And Troy has leave all next week. So at least I’ll be able to catch up on my 7 Days posts, and go paint another bowl soon.

I was talking to Troy last night about how life just feels so…relentless lately. Of course having a toddler in the house, even one who (touchwoodfingerscrossedtwirlaroundthreetimesandclucklikeachicken) is mostly sleeping through the night, is a lot of work. Troy is still working long hours. I’m still homeschooling Annalie. And it’s the holidays, which means extra items on everyone’s to-do list. Especially with the days getting dark so early, it seems like I am constantly running behind, that I never reach the end of my list.

Troy suggested that maybe right now, just for a little while, I need to cut back on one or two things. I agreed that sounded good in theory. Then I realized: I’m two weeks behind on Flickring photos (which I do mainly for the grandparents, so I’m feeling bad about that). I hadn’t blogged in eight days. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worked on any of the three big crocheting projects in progress. Aside from some Christmas treats, I’ve barely even cooked dinner in weeks.

Yes, I wrote backwards on my hand just to remind you. You’re welcome.

Now I’m thinking that part of my problem is that I have not been doing much of anything creative lately. Luckily, it’s almost time for 7 Days again. (Note that it starts in the middle of the week this time, this coming Wednesday, the 21st.) That always provides a much-needed jolt of creative energy, not to mention it’s like a quarterly reunion of old friends at this point.

Whatever. It’s life, sometimes it’s crazy, sometimes it’s CRAZY, and usually it’s fun. Christmas is only a week away, and (throwsaltovermyshoulderwishonastarwearsomegarlic) we’re all healthy. We’re not traveling this year so we’re avoiding that stress. Things will get better and I’ll crochet and blog and cook more again someday. This is only a season.

And hey, it’s a season with lots of pretty lights to enjoy.

I got nothin’ right now.

I kind of hate myself for even thinking about writing this post, complete with an artsy nature photo, about how blah and tired I’ve been lately, and how there are a million things I could and should be doing instead of sitting on the couch after the kids are in bed. (The artsy nature photo itself is pretty cool, though; Annalie took it, which makes it that much cooler.) Yet here I am writing it. Bleargh.

Troy’s been working ridiculously long hours for months now and we’re all fraying at the edges because of it. Elliora still isn’t sleeping through the night and the lack of sleep is taking its toll on me and my patience levels. Annalie insists on acting like a seven-year-old (the nerve!). I’m always a few steps behind the mess that’s taking over the house. We could be moving as soon as February but don’t have orders yet so we can’t plan anything past January. I have a mile-long list of crochet projects I need to tackle but hardly any time or desire to crochet. I want to blog—I have so many posts in my head—but I never seem to get any of them actually written. One or both of the cats keep pooping on the floor next to the litter box. There is a new yet old ongoing family drama that is breaking my heart and making me lose sleep when I don’t have any to spare. Blah, blah, blah.

All this stuff is combining lately into a perfect storm that leaves me exhausted and frustrated in its wake. It’s overwhelming, and I tend to go a little numb when I think about it too much. I don’t even want to be writing this post about it except it’s driving me crazy that I can’t write the posts I want to write so I’m writing this one to explain why.

I know a lot of this is because of Troy’s crazy job right now, and more of it is because I have a baby, and that both of those things are temporary. I know that someday I will feel more like myself again, that this too shall pass. But oh, I’ll be annoyed about it until it does.

What’s annoying you right now? Let’s have a b!tch-fest. Those always make me feel better! Misery loves company.

Sammy got to spend a month at home with her parents under hospice care before she died at exactly four months old. She got a whole extra month of love and cuddles and time with her family and friends. Those who loved her are grieving for her at the same time they are rejoicing that she is free of pain now and knows only love.

I never met her but I am grieving too. My heart breaks for her parents Stephanie and Travis, who lost their second child today. I cannot imagine.

Read about Sammy’s life at her CaringBridge page. She has a Flickr photostream, too, where Stephanie put all the snapshots they’d taken of Sammy in her brief life as well as the photos from a professional portrait session with a Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep photographer.

Thank you to those of you who kept Samantha and her family in your thoughts and prayers, and especially to those of you who went out of your way to let me know you were doing so. I’ve closed comments on this post, but if you want to express your sympathies to Stephanie and Travis, please do so by signing the guestbook at the CaringBridge page or leave a comment on Stephanie’s blog.

Day 4 was one of those frustrating, losing-my-temper days. Nothing was seriously wrong (not with our family, anyway). We’re all healthy, no one’s getting divorced or fired. It’s just…all the big and small annoying/sad/worrisome things adding up. It was life, kicking my butt, like it does once in a while.

That night Troy and I had a good long talk about some of life’s current challenges and ways we could tackle them. The next morning, we had the house professionally cleaned for the second time in our lives, which was just as awesome as the first time. And then the day after that, my mom arrived for a short visit. Blue skies ahead.

Annalie said:

At first, I saw this fox in the street and I wasn’t sure if he was a cat or a fox. But then my mom came in the room and told me that it was a fox, and she was right. We looked it up online. You wanna know why I thought it was a cat? Well, you see, its tail wasn’t that POOFY, so I thought it was a cat. But we think maybe he was just wet, because it rained this morning.

Remember my friend Stephanie‘s little girl Samantha who was sick with meningits, the one I crocheted the blanket for? Well, the latest news is not good, which is an understatement.

The infection ate away most of Samantha’s brain tissue before it was under control. About a week ago they met with all their doctors and specialists to go over what was in store for them. They decided it was time to take Sammy home, to just enjoy their daughter as much as they could, and let as many of their friends and family meet her and hold her as possible. They have hospice nurses helping them out at home, and they are administering medications to keep Sammy as comfortable as possible during these final days.

These past weeks I’ve spent a lot of time thinking of and praying for my friends and their sweet baby girl, whom I will likely never get to meet this side of heaven. I’ve thought about how excited I was for Stephanie and Travis to watch their daughter grow up, how I thought it was cool she was born a day after my birthday, how fun it would be that our babies were close in age and how when we visited them this fall on our way to see Troy’s parents it would be neat to introduce our girls to each other. I think about all those things with grief now, and I know that my grief is so very tiny compared to theirs.

I remember how scary it was when Elliora was first admitted to the hospital last December, before we knew it was RSV and they were doing every test under the sun, including a lumbar puncture to check for meningitis. Sometimes when I’m thinking about Samantha I look down at Elliora as she nurses or sleeps on me, and know it could have just as easily happened to her. There but for the grace of God, I think, and breathe a prayer of thanks at the same time I am crying for my friends.

Loss is a fact of life. I know way too many people who’ve lost babies, and they’re all awful, tragic losses. This one is hitting me harder than most for some reason. Maybe because of Elliora’s time in the hospital and my own brief, terrifying glimpse of what it would be like to stand at the edge of that chasm of pain and grief. I think this is part of why I’ve been having such a hard time blogging lately, actually.

I’m so thankful that Travis and Stephanie are people of deep faith. I’m grateful that they’re being supported by so many loved ones and comforted by the many, many people praying for them. And I’m so glad I sent the blanket when I did. I won’t get to hug Samantha or hold her but something I created has kept her warm and brightened her bed.

If you want to read more about Samantha or leave a message for her parents, you can go here, to Samantha Pittock’s CaringBridge.

It’s been at least a month now since I’ve managed to blog about anything in a timely manner, and I hate it. It hate how many photos I’ve taken and posts I’ve written in my head that will probably never be published here, because eventually it gets to the point where we just have to move on. I hate it because they’re stories I wanted to tell, and because I’ll probably forget most of them if I don’t write them down.

I kind of hate that I’m writing this post about it, too. It’s so eye-rollingly meta and just plain boring when people blog about how they never have time to blog anymore. Yet here I am, doing that very thing. Arrggh.

I know I have good reasons for being a bad blogger right now. I know I have other things to do. I’m taking care of my family, first of all. I cook meals, I do laundry, I read stories and drive to gymnastics class and feed the cats. I have a baby who eats three meals a day now, which takes up a surprisingly large chunk of time each day. I’ve been busy traveling and entertaining out-of-town guests, which was super fun but frankly exhausting; I’m sure the guests would agree.

I have two baby blankets in progress and am planning to crochet two more before the summer’s over. I’ve painted a half-dozen custom-order mugs recently and have more to paint when I get the chance. I’m frittering away the usual amount of time reading blogs and watching TV, plus additional hours catching up on Fringe. And that’s only the very tippiest-top of the iceberg. Like everyone else I know—except maybe Diane Court—I’m monumentally busy.

But still. I miss blogging.

Before we left for Omaha, I mailed this blanket off to Samantha in Texas. I hope and pray she gets the chance to use it for years to come.

Sammy is still in need of prayers, and so are her parents Stephanie and Travis. In the week since they figured out she has bacterial meningitis, she’s made some good progress but also had a few sobering setbacks. The strain of bacteria causing the disease was not the kind that is resistant to antibiotics, so that was great news. She was having seizures (not uncommon for infants with meningitis, I gather) so underwent an MRI, which showed extensive brain damage. She developed encephalitis. Then a lumbar puncture showed the white cell count was down, meaning the infection was under control, and they began to wean Sammy from the vent. A second MRI revealed the disease had progressed to ventriculitis, many infarctions, and that the brain damage seems to have grown more extensive.

Even though Stephanie and Travis (who is a Lutheran pastor) have great faith and are being supported by their friends and family and uplifted by the knowledge that people all over the world are thinking of them and praying for their little girl, this has to feel like a nightmare. They can’t protect their baby girl. They can only trust God and the doctors and hope for the best.

Thank you for your prayers so far. If you have a moment, please say a prayer, make a wish, light a candle, or WHATEVER for Samantha and her family. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I know Stephanie and Travis would thank you too.

UPDATE 5/1/2011: GOOD NEWS! Sammy was weaned off the respirator and oxygen and is breathing on her own. And, she was moved from the ICU to an intermediary room where her parents can stay in the room with her. They still have a long road ahead of them but things are looking up. Woohoo! Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers for them!

I crocheted this log cabin baby blanket for my friend Stephanie’s baby girl, Samantha. It’s sitting on my bookcase, freshly laundered and neatly folded, waiting for me to remember to mail it off to Texas.

Today I’m glad for my forgetfulness, because it’s serving as a reminder to pray every time I glance at it.

Six-week-old Samantha (she was born the day before my birthday) is in the hospital with an unknown illness. It’s pretty serious, and they’re still trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. My heart is aching for Stephanie and her husband Travis. I remember how scary it was to be in the ER with Elliora after Christmas before we knew what was going on. And even though I’m trying not to, I can’t help but think of Easter two years ago, when two bloggers tragically lost their babies within a week of each other.

This little girl was very much wished for and waited on and is loved so very much. I’m scared for Stephanie and Travis, and praying hard for them and Samantha. Could you please say a prayer – make a wish – send healing thoughts their way too? Thank you.

UPDATE: Samantha has bacterial meningitis. It’s scary but she’s stable and they are giving her antibiotics. The next 48 hours are critical so please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you!

It’s ironic (or is it?! I’m always fuzzy on the definition of irony, thanks to Alanis Morissette) that the day after writing a post about how much easier our lives could be if I just remember to be more playful, I am writing a post about how my parenting report card today would be stamped with a great big FAIL.

Today I lost my temper at Annalie over something kind of stupid. She threw a fit over having to leave the house for dinner, then got mad because she had to put on long pants (a fight I have with her EVERY SINGLE DAY, every time we need to leave the house, oh my goodness does this kid ever need to live in Southern California). Then it went even further downhill, probably largely because she was hungry, which was why we were leaving the house to get some dinner.

I was hungry too, and I have the same tendency to be 300% more irritated by life when I’m hungry, so it took a lot of effort for me to stay calm. But by golly, I did. I spent 20 minutes patiently, calmly talking to Annalie. I reminded her she was hungry. I pointed out that 45F isn’t warm enough to go outside in a skirt and tank top. She was not entirely happy but had simmered down and even put on tights and was ready to leave.

And then she changed her mind. I don’t even know exactly what it was, but something set her back to square one and she told me, in that hmmph-so-there voice that is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, that she wasn’t leaving the house ever again and I couldn’t make her. Then she laid down on her bed and grabbed the headboard like I was going to have to pry her off.

I saw red. I yelled at her. I pushed her down the hall towards Troy and stomped into my room to count to 100. I rested my forehead on the wall and took deep, shaky breaths. I listened to Annalie wailing, to Troy talking to her, to poor Elliora strapped into the infant seat, crying her head off. I hated myself just a little bit.

I pulled myself together and joined my family. I took Elliora out of the seat and comforted her. I hugged Annalie and asked her how much better she thought I felt now that I’d yelled at her. She said she didn’t know. I told her, “Not better at all. I feel worse. How do you feel?” She admitted she felt worse too. We all calmed down and talked and apologized and forgave. We went to dinner and came home and Annalie went to bed happy and serene while I laid on the couch and nursed Elliora and had a good cry.

I think what’s going on right now, mainly, is that Annalie is dealing with not having me to herself anymore. She is understandably frustrated at having to share my time, and that it often seems like the lion’s share of that is going to Elliora these days. Lately Annalie has been unusually snippy with me and angry at me. I know it’s all part of the process of learning to deal, and I’m glad she is taking it out on me and not the baby (with whom she is unfailingly gentle and loving), but it’s still trying. And today we were both hungry and I was tired and breastfeeding hormones probably played a part and just arrrrrgggghhhh.

On top of that, school has been challenging. I’ve been trying hard for the last month to get back into a routine with school, and Annalie is fighting me every step of the way. For every hour of school we do, I spend easily another hour convincing her. It’s exhausting.

Part of me thinks it’s no big deal. She is in first grade; putting the curriculum on hold and unschooling for another month or so won’t hurt her. We still read books every day, and she reads and writes plenty on her own. We talk about time and dates and prices and measurements every day, in real-life situations at the store, while cooking, while planning a trip. Now that the weather is warming up, and Elliora is a bit older and doesn’t hate the car quite as much, we can start going to the library regularly and hitting the museums again. We can keep plugging away at our year’s curriculum right through summer if we want to. We’re going to start using Time4Learning as a supplement (thanks, Yara!) and I’m hopeful that it will be a good fit for Annalie’s learning style and our needs right now.

[I am a bit apprehensive leaving the negative stuff about homeschooling in this post because I've gotten some pretty negative responses from people about this kind of thing in the past. Please know that I am not saying homeschooling is too hard for us, because I'm not; I'm saying that right now homeschooling is challenging but we are persevering because I want to teach my kids about perseverance and flexibility just as much as I want to teach them how to read and write. If I honestly thought homeschooling wasn't working for us anymore we wouldn't be doing it. It's as simple as that. And I want to be honest about our struggles because if someone else is struggling in their homeschool at least they won't read my blog under the erroneous impression that homeschooling comes easily to everyone else in the world but them.]

On top of everything else Troy’s job is crazy busy right now and he’s basically leaving for work before we get up and getting home just in time to tuck Annalie in at night. As you can imagine this is stressing all of us out for various reasons.

I’m truly okay now. I talked to Troy and my mom and Brenda and Madge. Brenda and Madge both told me that when I lose my temper at my kid, it’s an opportunity for me to help her learn how to deal with anger and angry people, and also a chance to teach her about how even her parents aren’t perfect. (Gasp! Shocking but true.) My mom and Troy both had good ideas for ways to help Annalie learn to deal with her frustration. They all reminded me that things will get easier and I know they are right. I am stretched pretty thin right now, with nursing a baby and homeschooling a first-grader and attempting to keep the house in some kind of order on days that are too cold for Annalie to play outside, and I need to be as kind to myself as I would to anyone else in this situation. So I’m trying.

Sarah commented on the last post that Annalie’s vocabulary is so good for her age that it’s easy to forget she’s just a little kid. I confess I have the same problem sometimes. Annalie is so mature and smart and empathetic in some ways, but in other ways she is still very much six-going-on-seven. I am guilty of expecting too much of her at times. Especially since Elliora was born, I think, since in comparison with a four-month-old Annalie seems impossibly grown-up. But she’s not. She’s still a kid in need of snuggles and silliness and reassurance and guidance and tons of patience and understanding and love. Though really, what adult doesn’t need those things too?

Tomorrow is another day. It might bring more temper tantrums, it might not. Either way, we’ll handle it and I will attempt to remain calm and remember that we’re all doing the best we can under the circumstances, knowing it will get easier eventually. Or I’ll get stronger in the process. Probably both.

How are you today?