Part VIIII

Listening to Adele. Playing Gears. Drinking iced-tea. Unsweet. Wearing paintclothes for no particular reason but I'm ready dear friend, for the day.

Happy Anniversary.

It's been 9 years of words exchanged over this enchanted device. And in the midst of having friends that make me think why even bother having enemies, I have you, and I wanted to remind you Narnia is real in the midst of pain and elusive gmail archiving problems. Don't cease to believe. It is the one tragic thing I could not bear in this life, and

If encouraging you is one of my sole purposii in life I am happy to do it. Because you my dear one, are priceless.

It's been a few weeks since I heard from you, and though you can't feel it, there is magic humming at your fingertips- that table is a series of molecules moving at a rate we can't perceive- we run our fingers over the smooth and cool of the surface. It seems so ordinary and we look out- the way the wind whips right now through the sky into the tree, trouncing the leaves they twist shudder and unfurl. They bend but don't break. They fly off and out and the tree won't forget them. The way my cat's whiskers arch and twitch as he yawns. The way the light dances through the eye, the way our muscles move into smiles. The breath, deep in a sigh our whole body responds aching for peace. Rest be with us this day. God be faithful. Bring unity to our hearts and bodies. Bring us to wholeness.

Can I understand the miracle of my hands?
To be silent and let it pass without an exclamation?
To leave you there disbelieving in your extraordinary life?
When look how you are and how much God must love you.
My heart beats fast at the thought.

Let me run into the yard and disappear into space.
And I just went to try but the hose needed to be moved and Twist was mewing at me and I picked her up. That green of her eyes staring wide at me and the pincing of her claws as she wonders why the water is disturbing her rest. She mews. She mews. Her fur a midnight with streaking stars. And the morning glory blooming that ostentatious purple mocking me and the weeds taking over the orderly roses. And the warmth of my flipflops against the sun. And I heard no need to fall away up and out and into because I am right here. You haven't far to go. Sit beside me.

I will, always and forever Penelope,
m.


 

so basically

The job is sucking you dry. I totally get that. But I feel we’ll persevere in our year-end blogging mandate. I do well with mandates, mostly. Less so when they’re self-imposed, but still. Hope – for us and our writing and a lack of fissures in the concrete – propel me forward.

Today my cold has progressed down into my lungs. The usual route of a cold: head, sinuses, nose, spirit, throat, lungs. Lots of hacking today. By my estimates it will reach my toes next Thursday. And then we’ll be done, right? I don’t feel bad enough to go to a doctor and yet. It’s a nagging thing, shaping my day in an un-ideal fashion. Speaking of fashion, I must keep reminding myself to avoid social media today at all costs lest someone spoil the end of Project Runway for me. I have no idea who I’m rooting for, I like them all in a way really, but dammit if someone inadvertently robs me of the suspense.

I love that you’re making smoothies for your volleyball team. And you’re the manatees? I feel like our church team named themselves the mongeese or something equally random yet similar.

It’s foggy outside. And last night there was a crazy thunderstorm J.Lo drove through on his way home from football-watching. And I was fine comforting K.Lo on the living room couch, until such time that I felt her histrionics were put-upon, and then I threw my hands up exasperatedly. Which probably wasn’t nice of me, but clearly that’s a button-issue, when people pretend fear or pain or whatever for the sake of drama. And maybe she wasn’t fully pretending, but I have my suspicions. My capacity to soothe runs deep unless and until it detects an ounce of fakery.

But really I should be better than that, see past the fakery and recognize an equally deep need for soothing. Or whatever.

In the midst of my cold-suffering, I have been crafting a mermaid costume for K.Lo (tail picture to follow) and working with fusible interfacing, which may or may not in my first attempt gotten all over the ironing board. oops. But it’s a neat thing and with it I managed to affix a Toy Story image to a bathrobe I found for N.Lo (he’s always asked for one), for his b-day. To liven it up, since it was plain gray.

Upcoming, I need to create Shrek (the costume) for N.Lo. And cakes, lots of cakes, for Birthday Weekend (N and J.Lo) and then a cake walk at K.Lo’s school next Friday. good grief. Also, I’m reading a CS Lewis book (Mere Christianity) which I’d like J.Lo to also read, but I can sense the suspicion and reluctance from miles away. In an un-Penelope-like fashion, I’m reading more than one book – requisite YA fare, a short story book (wha?), possibly a political satire book (if only the author would refrain from so many exclamation points, but I do enjoy the inclusion of 3-D glasses), and then even a smut book. All these online political rantings have been so conducive to spending less time on FB and more with books. So thanks, political ranters! I am making great strides toward my lifelong goal of computing less, reading more.

Does Cath tend to drop details so explicitly? I didn’t know about the head over heels thing either, although I did infer the possibility from things like the camping recap and the baking of vegan pies. Because what self-respecting carnivore would engage in the latter if not motivated by love. Also, please don’t move to internet-less Russia. It would kill me.

That’s all for now, lest I exhaust all my blogging material in one go. Today is a day of random errands and projects and to-go or not-to-go to bookclub, for which I didn’t read the book, but the company might be nice. But hacking in the privacy of my own home and falling asleep on the couch at 9:30PM might be nicer. Ironically I suppose I wouldn’t have been up for the cancelled concert after all. But J still seems disappointed in me, or annoyed, or maybe she is just busy with moving. Combo? I try not to over-analyze that one, because silence for weeks at a time is standard. Although usually it’s a comfortable silence, and not a stony one. But maybe I’m imagining the stone. Likely. But not impossible.

Over-analytically yours,

penelope

dear october,

If there were any year I would love for you to break your streak of general blah-ness, it would be this one. I don't always feel fair in saying that luck-wise, October is my worst month, because it does contain several friend and family birthdays, along with J.Lo's, and I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the fun in those celebrations. Not to mention Halloween! And it's fall, and the weather finally cools off from the oppressive heat of summer. So there are lots of good things, really, about you, October, it's just maybe cosmically? for me, I have great luck and high energy in the spring, and a general feeling of ickiness coupled with some bad luck in the fall, particularly October.

But maybe it's all a matter of perspective.

As far as Baby N.Lo, yesterday was still September, but I'm still exhausted from it. What I have dreaded more than anything with labor is the False Alarm, i.e. going to the hospital and being sent home. I mean, I know it happens all the time, and you live, and you have lost little, other than time, the emotional energy of thinking you're having a baby, and perhaps some pride. It is not, in the end, really a big deal. But here's what happened:

All morning yesterday, beginning early, like before the dawn, I was having contractions. Baby N.Lo is scheduled to arrive in about 3 1/2 weeks, so hello... kind of unexpected. And actually, he would be fine, if born so early--"they" say that at about 37 weeks, lung capacity is adequate for delivery, and your baby is still considered full-term. We're just a tiny bit outside of that, so I imagine (and hope) we'd be all good. Anyway, back to contractions: 10 minutes apart, then 8, then 4. When I had K.Lo, I had in my head just what I knew from books and classes and such: Go to the hospital when contractions are less than 5 minutes apart, consistently, and intense enough that you are unable to walk or talk during them. The intensity part just never happened, but the timing was there, I was a day past my due date, and so we went, and K.Lo was born.

This time, the intensity was there, as was the timing--four two straight hours, I recorded 4 minutes apart. And so I threw some more things in my bag, J.Lo loaded it all up in the car, left K.Lo with her grandparents, and off we went to the hospital.

Another thing you read/hear about re: labor is that you probably shouldn't eat a lot. I wasn't very hungry anyway, but I figured, okay, I'll have it a little bit of food, and it will be what I like... right? Had 2 donuts in the morning and later some potato chips. If only I had a camera to capture the look on my nurse's face. I totally knew it sounded bad, but what can you do. Anyway, after the oh-so-lovely pelvic exam, in which it was determined that I was 2cm dilated and 50% effaced, it was also determined I was possibly... hungry. So they gave me a microwave meal of chicken and stuffing and mashed potatoes, as well as a sugary drink, oj mixed with Sierra Mist.

Meanwhile, I am thinking if I am sent home because these contractions are really hunger pains, I will never live it down.

But, they were not. After eating the meal, my contractions did space out, but holy hell, they were strong. I don't remember them being that strong the last time until well after my water was broken. Ultimately, though, they must have been unproductive, because an hour later, there was no change, i.e. Baby N.Lo was not ready, and there was no point in staying at the hospital. They gave me a sleeping pill and sent me on my way--the idea being that I needed rest, and if it were true labor, it would continue regardless of the sleeping pill.

I guess, as odd as it seems to me, it was false labor. I feel tired, queasy, and weird, with no real contractions. I don't particularly feel disappointed that we didn't have the baby yesterday, as it's early, and at this point I'm not really in a hurry. He will be ready when he's ready. The nurse did say, though I take it subjectively, that she didn't see me making it to my due date, but we will see.

I guess I just feel a little like I've been through the wringer. Another WTF moment, if you will. Babies are weird, y'all. The beginning of a life is just as unpredictable as the end. It's just the Waiting and the Wondering that will get you.

So anyway, October. This year, maybe you could ease up on your usual antics? September 30th did not bode particularly well, although I suppose it just was what it was. In the meantime, if you could go ahead and arrange a Clear Sign that it's time to go to the hospital, that would be great. Rather than this whole vague contraction business--maybe some water breaking?? It would really make things a lot easier.

xoxo,
pensive pen