Crowded.

I haven’t written here in a while. I’ve shied away from social media. And from you. Although I’m not sure why. Well, I do know why I’ve backed away from Facebook. They worry me with their Terms of Service. So many people just gloss over them and accept them at face value. Everybody’s on Facebook so it must be fine, right? Marshall tells me I worry about it too much. But the data doesn’t lie. It does, however, sell. The ‘free’ service is far from free, people. And now Instagram, too? Ugh. (And, yes, I am aware that I am beginning to sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist girl.) I like sharing my life with you. I like hearing your feedback – the good and the bad. I feel less alone and more connected when I get comments from friends and when I see you doing your thing – whether it’s travelling the world or raising children or helping people with AIDS or even just posting pictures of cats. (What? Lolcats make me happy.) But I can’t help but wonder what price I’m paying for this.  Could it really be this bad? I believe it could. Do I think that it will? I don’t know. But I know that it makes me a bit queasy when I think of it.

Totally unrelated, I love the new packaging for instant oatmeal. For years it’s told you to add 2/3 a cup of water. Now – right on the packet! – it says fill to this line with water. I’m a fan of one less step.  And only semi-related: why does the peaches-and-cream one need more water than the others?

My children are driving me a bit batty today. You’d think that we’d be used to being together all day every day since we are homeschooling, but when we are “out of school” we don’t have a schedule to our day and no schedule = chaos. And chaos = little patience. Add post-op issues and I’m whipped.

Post-op. *sigh* My surgery went well. (Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and kind words.) I had some post-anesthesia nausea (as I do), but once it dissipated, I felt better. I’ve been sore, but haven’t had any pain. (Warning: TMI ahead.) I wasn’t able to void on my own after surgery, so I came home with a catheter. Not really my preference, but not horrible either. I went back to have the catheter removed yesterday and still wasn’t able to void on my own. I had to learn to self cath. Ugh. Once again, not painful…just very frustrating. The surgery is 92% successful with no complications. Look at me hanging out with the lower 8%.  I have been able to void some, but not nearly enough. And I’m having to self cath regularly to ‘retrain’ my bladder. Fun fun. Please pray that this will all work itself out sooner rather than later!

For two weeks I’m not supposed to lift more than 10 pounds. Which isn’t often a problem…until Alden wants me to hold her.  I hate refusing her that. She’s got a cold and last night she was in bed coughing and wheezing and crying and I couldn’t take it. I made Marshall bring her to me in our bed and I just held her for a while. I rubbed her back and she rubbed my arm while we watched “Eat Pray Love” on TV. Oh, that child…she is certainly the little girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. But I love her so. I love them all.  Even on days like this.

I can’t talk about my children without thinking of the children fo Newtown. I feel bad for my response, but when I first heard the news I thought, “Thank God we homeschool.” And then I flinched because this could just have easily happened anywhere – the grocery store, church, the post office, Zaxby’s – places we go all the time and think nothing of it. I am tempted to be frightened of the big, bad world but then I feel like I’m letting fear win and I’m too stubborn and head-strong for that. Of all the things I’ve read about Sandy Hook, this post rang true with me the most. There is much that I could say, even want to say about this horrific situation…but if ever words fail me, it’s now. I find myself praying for the families and my mind wanders to a chant of “Dear God, oh dear God…please keep my babies safe. Please. Please. Please.” Why do my prayers always come back to me me me? Is that something you outgrow? Is there some point of maturity – spiritual or otherwise – when you stop being so egocentric? I start out with thoughts of others, hopes for others, petitions for others…and then my mind gets so crowded and I circle ’round to what I know best: me.

And I write that and I think, “Do I really know me? Am I really that shallow? And self-centered? Are we all?”

When my mind gets crowded, my words get jumbled up and I can’t put them in the right order. I can’t make them say what I want them to say. And so I’ll stop for now and let the crowd die down. Maybe my words will come back when it’s not so loud.