Not Much

I've been getting some feedback from readers who are disappointed with my blogging pace lately. Some are outwardly verbal and don't mind posting their concerns in my comments section (Nicole, Shmee, Jody...). Others like to wait until they see me in person and drop a quick sidebar comment about how long it's been since I've posted (Karen...). All are much appreciated, much loved, and very much listened to.

But here's the thing.

I haven't had much to say lately. (Shocked silence, I know.)

My days have been set on auto-pilot, we're wandering aimlessly in limbo, and nothing earth-shattering has rocked our worlds.

Some might call that a state of bliss.

Yes, we have big changes on the horizon. They're kind of loitering in the front yard, however, talking amongst themselves and refusing to make eye contact. The dogs bark at them, of course, but those life changes pay no mind. Someday soon, I think they'll come knocking on our front door. But I'm letting them take their time. I want them to feel comfortable. They'll be guests in the beginning, but ultimately, they'll become part of our lives. I don't want to scare them away with the macaroni and tuna casserole just yet.

And so, life meanders on. I'm writing a great deal these days. Well, I should reiterate that I WAS writing a great deal until the nearly-catastrophic spilling-of-the-water-on-the-laptop incident occurred. For two days, my beloved Mac stood in an upside-down V formation while she dried out -- sans battery and hard drive. Today, she's back with us. It was touch and go for awhile, but she rallied. The back-up power cord didn't fare so well, but at least we still have one. One is enough.

You're probably wondering why I chose to have a glass of water beside my laptop. I have, as you might recall, performed the same water trick within the last 18 months. That time, the price was a brand new laptop and a Trail of Tears from Spring Knoll to the Apple store that rivaled any arduous and heart-wrenching cross-country journey. (Well, almost.) But, friends, I'm all about hydrating right now. The drive to hydrate overcame the need to protect my livelihood. I lost my mind for a moment.

I have a tendency to flail about. I drop things, spill things, break things, knock things over. Chris likes to call me his favorite train wreck. I'm no match for my dear Molly, but I do have my unrivaled moments. I speak with my hands -- sometimes I speak with my entire upper body and multiple back-up parts. When this particular water incident occurred, I was scanning pictures, singing to Lady Gaga at the top of my lungs, and dancing around the kitchen. Who knew those activities were conducive to water spillage?

I've since enacted a new house rule: no edible or drinkable objects on my desk. EVER. (The peanut butter M&Ms sitting beside me right now are the exception to the rule. They don't crumb, they don't spill, they simply self-sabotage my weight loss journey. And that has nothing at all to do with preserving the integrity of my laptop.)

We'll see how long the house rule stands. I tend to forget these minor details...

The rest of our lives have been just as uneventful. Mary Claire recently recovered from a bout of bronchitis. Sam is finishing the last of his Z-Pack for a double ear infection and bronchitis. We left Sam's ailments untreated for at least two weeks. Why? Because he doesn't complain. And he doesn't run a fever. He might cough hard enough to lose a lung, but if he's not feverish, he's not sick, right? RIGHT? The doctor comforted me with tales of sending her own broken-legged son into three football games and on a hike through the Smokey Mountains before taking his leg pain seriously. That's become my new baseline: "At least I didn't take you hiking in the Smokey Mountains WITH A BROKEN LEG!!"

Neither the good doctor nor I are currently in the running for Mother of the Year.

See? It's just our normal modus operandi over here.