These are the shortest days, the sweetest days
I told myself I couldn't close out another week without actually writing something. December is our busiest month, with Christmas cards and class plays and parents association meetings and a good deal of work thrown into the mix. Writing seems to take a backseat...
Read moreThe eczema report of 2014
It's that time of year again, the wintry mix of dry and itchy skin, red rashes, cracked hands and lotion experimentation. Blessedly, it's been one of the better years for the two of us, Ella and me. We're still using some of the meds and ointments she got last Spring and my hands haven't started bleeding yet. Bonus! But still we cope the uncomfortable scratchiness of nearly everything, do the moisturization dance twice a day, and I'm having to find creative ways to keep everything off my neck, where my outbreak is worst.
I can't really believe it's taken this long to come to the realisation that what E and I have is an actual chronic illness, having given up hope that it will ever really go away and trying to find ways to just deal with it. It's a never-ending quest to find products that keep us functioning and don't make it worse. Very few things ever really improve our symptoms, but there are a few lotions, moisturizers, soaps and such that make living with eczema slightly better.
Here's what's in our proverbial medicine cabinet (we actually don't have a medicine cabinet, but that sounds better than "littering our night-stands and every other bedroom surface").
Read moreOn goodbyes and Christmas and life at home
Sunday morning is quiet and dark.
It's the last one of the year and church is taking a day off. There was one major dog-related casualty in the night, the guts of a Buzz Lightyear pillow spilled out over the whole of the office. And the house is empty, minus two.
I think I'm fairly good at goodbyes now, and when they depart two hours before sunrise, I give long hugs and trade I love yous, stand at the door and wave through steamed glass. Then Christmas is over, I get back in bed with the children. We go back to real life and spend the afternoon by the sea. After 9 days with them, I'm full and contented. But a day or two after I miss everyone all over again, all the people who did not come. I long for my sisters, miss the company of my nephews, wish I could send the kids with their aunts and uncles into the snow.
Read moreWe are barking mad. Literally.
One week ago I sat here pouring out the angst and heartache of having to break my children's hearts at Christmas. We were saying no to a dog and I typed the grave injustice of it all...
Today this dog snores on our landlord's loveseat, nose pointed in the air, her name Cocoa.
I should apologize first to my friends and father, whom I bombarded with tearful texts and questions and frustrations. Our life is normal, but it's also not. And the bumper-stickered car next door - "A dog is for life, not just for Christmas" - haunts me still. I'm not accustomed to making decisions "for life." I can hardly make decisions "for Monday."
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