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Browsing Tag: transition

We’ve Turned the Page on the Calendar, and You Should See the Bruise

Let me tell you a little bit about how 2019 and the entrance to 2020 have gone. We had a snow storm in our area last week, primarily because David was away for work, and when David goes away for work, the skies decide it’s a good time to dump at least six inches of unexpected snow onto our large driveway. Saoirse and I got it shoveled right away that afternoon, thanks to her enthusiasm for physical exertion and my stubborn will to keep going and ignore the spasms in my bad back (three large pregnancies with three very large babies broke me). When we woke the next morning to a blessed, much-needed, two-hour school delay, a snow squall was rolling through the neighborhood, covering the driveway with a powder-sugared coating that hid the pretty, sparkly, inevitably painful sheen of sheer ice that lay beneath it. As the kids were getting bundled into their hats and gloves and coats for school, I backed the car of the garage to make it easier for them all to pile in with their backpacks and instruments and lunches. I’d asked Quinlan to take out the dog…

Almost a Year After Mom’s Diagnosis, We Find Ourselves Back at the Beginning

Hi, everybody. Are you good? Did you have a nice summer? Or have you forgotten summer now that most schools are in session so you’re busy pulling out the sweaters and warm boots because YAY I DON’T HAVE TO SUNSCREEN THE CHILDREN ALL THE TIME NOW? I hear you. I mean, I’m not in a hurry, or anything. But the mornings are now quiet without the singsong of our neighborhood birds. The light is different–almost flatter, if that makes sense–and the air outside seems subdued. The season is changing over, quieting down. And I think I’m happy with that–I love autumn–even if, in my world right now, a quiet season doesn’t always mean a quiet life. I owe you an update on my mom. I’ll post something more detailed soon, but in a nutshell, she’s beaten her prognosis (we’re now almost a year out from her diagnosis), has completed treatment (other than a twice-monthly chemo infusion to keep her brain swelling in check), and is working to get her muscles stronger so she can walk…

Eureka(s)

It has been, frankly, a craptastic couple of months, in a whiny, bratty, world’s-tiniest-violin sort of way. I haven’t wanted to write this post, because, well, blahblahblahfart, who wants to read it (or write it, for that matter) but I can’t seem to write anything BUT this post, so this post we get. Sorry, kids. Better luck next time. Here’re the facts: in the last month, we moved into our new home. I landed (!!!) my first book deal. My oldest children are wrapping up a wonderful school year, and the wee-est child has hit that amazing baby-into-toddler stage where he’s developing by leaps and bounds and every day is a bit of a fantastic miracle. THIS SHOULD BE AWESOME. So why does it all feel like it sort of sucks?  First, let me just say: there’s a bridge nearby over a river that flows through our part of Pennsylvania (this is starting to sound a lot like this, I know). A bunch of years ago, some ice chunks took out part of it, so now the bridge is standing halfway out over the…