If you ask the children, the snow has been disappointing this year.
Enough to tease. Enough for a tiny, muddy snowman. But there's been no sledding or snow angels for us so far.
It's supposed to drop another inch or two tomorrow night, and I'm dreading it. Our wash machine is broken, and snow makes a giant mess of all our clothes. But if Catherine's sickness continues to improve, we'll probably trek out in it anyway. A little time playing in the snow is just what we need to focus on one of the positive aspects of winter. But after that, I'll be ready for Spring. Immediately.
James told me when he was 2 that he didn't believe in Santa. The logistics didn't make sense to him. I told him just to make sure he didn't tell his friends.
Catherine, on the other hand...
It's love. She talks to every Santa she sees. She asked why there were so many, and I told her they were part of a union. She seemed fine with that.
Her brother has been wonderful, talking all about him, and supporting the theory, without any of the "be good for Santa" stuff. It's all Jolly Elf, and cookies, and eight tiny reindeer.
Merry Christmas to everyone. We hope you have a little magic in your holidays this year.
Last week, I broke my blender. I tried to make this into a smoothie.
Yeah, I know. Way too optimistic. But the worst part is I had just been placed on a strict liquid/ VERY soft food diet by my dentist. My jaw is stuck, and I can't open my mouth very wide.
I've had mild TMJ since I was 17, and it's gotten worse in the past year or so. For several months, It's been normal for me to have very limited mobility in my jaw until lunchtime. It didn't hurt, and didn't really affect my diet, as I mostly drink coffee and smoothies in the morning anyway. But now? No raw kale, no almonds, no popcorn. All my favorite foods are off the table for a bit, and it's looking like I'll need to see a specialist.
That same week, I had pulled my quad at the gym so bad I couldn't participate in class for a week. So no yummy food, no Favorite Thing, and I fell apart.
I laid around all weekend and had a pity party for myself, eating lots of pasta and dairy, which I normally avoid, and feeling lumpy. But Sunday, my sister-in-law lent me her immersion blender, I cooked up TWELVE cups of quinoa, and got back on the road to good health.
I only had to wait three more days for my new blender, a 50 year-old Waring, to arrive, but it made me realize how hard I work to keep myself in good condition. I feel like I've gotten to a good place where I'm eating things that I like, and that like me back, and taking care of my body. The few days where neither of those things were taking place were an excellent reminder of how important diet and exercise are to me. I felt HORRIBLE. I was grumpy, I felt sick the whole time, and I had zero energy. Also, KNOWING that I wasn't able to make good choices for my body was upsetting.
I'm back on track now, although still missing chewing, and grateful for the faster metabolism from frequent excercise. Those few days of carb loading didn't make the scale budge an ounce. Now I just have to fix my face!
My dog is thirteen. Old for a dog her size. She's still in pretty good shape, but I know there isn't that much longer for her.
She's mostly blind. Mild arthritis has set in, and yesterday the vet told us she needs a very minor surgery to help clean out a ruptured abscess.
This dog has been such a blessing to me. Taking care of a puppy forced me to get out and talk to people, to pull me out of the apartment and into the neighborhood. The good parts of my shoddy social skills have developed in part from the small talk that comes from taking a dog for a walk. The people I've known the longest in the neighborhood, I've met through my dog.
She's the first dog that I'll have from beginning to end. I hope when it's time for her to go, it's sudden, and brief, and she doesn't suffer. As cold and practical as I am in most situations, I can't bear deciding when to end her life.