Pain abounds this week. It literally feels like someone is trying to pull the muscles from my bones. Achy city. Especially in my legs, knees and hips. It’s distracting. I’m shuffling around and pushing myself too much. The house remains in disarray as I don’t have enough energy to do anything. To do lists lay undone. I hate lupus. I missed my fave yoga class (hi ladies!!!) because the kids were sick, which they gave me and I was miserable. I’m also currently in a fight with my boobs because they are weird and bizarre. It will take time to get used to these plastic bags attached to my ribs, where my lovely, soft breasts used to be.
The physician’s assistant at the plastic surgeon’s office, who is really really great, tried to console me by saying my bubbies (thank you HW of New Jersey) look really good and in proportion to my body, etc. I understand. I’m glad they look good and are in proportion. But that doesn’t really take away from the fact that they are NOT mine and I didn’t ask for this shit.
It’s also more thing to add to the list of things that make me “not look sick.” Nothing on the outside shows that I have lupus. In fact, no one would know unless I disclose it, but now I have this other thing that makes me defective or different. From the outside, people are like “awesome, sweet rack! And you’re thin and funny and have pretty hair, life must be GREAT!”
It’s bizarre and contradictory.
I have to snap myself out of it and tell myself “Consider the alternative. (the cancer) Acknowledge, move on.” (both the cancer and lupus) But wallowing for a bit is good. And normal.
Peter hollers at me to lay down, always by making me laugh first. He’ll literally stand there and wait until I stop what I’m doing and go lay down. Part of me wants to say “you’re not the boss of me.” but the other part of me knows he’s right, so I retreat to the white heaven of my bed obediently.
To be so loved and cared for so unconditionally is a permanent Thursday Love. He is the ultimate. (But for fear of you thinking he is perfect, may I add, that he is an extremely loud talker and quite a gaseous human being.)
I watched Luca and Mia last week while Meg and V did some new house business. Mia was full of sass and comedy and Luca just wanted to snuggle with Emmy on the couch as we watched the girls play. I did not argue and relished the squishy boy in my lap.
We had to banish poor Finny to the playroom and close the door because he was sick. (PS- kids are gross and are constantly sick) He was totally set up though in his jams with snacks, juice and a DVD. He would come out from time to time only to get yelled at by the group that he was sick. It was funny. Mia has found her voice and I love seeing her exhibit such independence and moxie.
Delicious, no? I kept smelling his head. Meg’s babies both have her eyes, which I love. He would cry when I put him down because he was tired and it was almost naptime. So I made a point to put him down a few times to hear him cry out and reach for me. Sick, right?
Because my priorities are out of whack COMPLETELY, I dragged myself downtown yesterday afternoon to get my hair cut and highlighted. You girls know getting your hair done is therapeutic. Throw in an eye brow wax and it was damn near a spa day. I love my hairdresser, Michael, as he is like family. Our family has known him for 20 years. Insane. He calls himself my “brister”. A combination of a brother&sister. I ate chocolates, listened to his tales of life as a single man on the scene and devoured all of the good magazines. Twas a lovely time. But I’m paying for it. With fantastic hair though! Blarg.
Anyway, am I the only person who takes massive amounts of self-portraits after haircuts? Or really anytime? M blows it straight like the best of them, and since I NEVER blow it straight, I like to have a record of how good it can look straight. In one of them you can see Finn behind me in the tub. Notice the bathroom decor too. You can’t see much of it actually in these pictures but it makes me murderous. It’s like being attacked by doilies. Apologies for the horrible light too.
Finny wanted in on the photo shoot action too. My sweet boy.
Michael cut Hadley’s hair last week and she’s rocking a funky a-line bob. I’ll take pics when Hadley’s surly doppelganger retreats and my real daughter comes back.
He cut these crazy, choppy short bangs. I said “Um, it looks like she cut her bangs herself.”
“No, it doesn’t! She looks edgy. She doesn’t want to look like everyone else, Emily.”
“She’s 8, Michael.”
He shooed me away, as did Hadley, who was delirious at her first trip to a place that is not SuperCuts. I do have to say my heart beat faster with pride when she saw all of the beautiful bottles lined up neatly against the wall and she whispered breathily “Product!”
That’s my girl.
One more thing: The book, Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, rules. I’m completely into it. Thanks for keeping me motivated, Mary!
Shoutouts to: EJK for having the adorable AJ, Jenny for being the ultimate bad ass, Tay for getting her Masters (!!!) and my sis for selling her house and buying one. Yippeee!
XO
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