Things I could be blogging about today...

I've been sitting around trying to put together something other than complaints about my kids' sleep habits or links about the election. I haven't come up with much, so instead I'll just list the things that I am not going to blog about.

1. What a crappy job I feel that I have been doing lately as a parent
2. How badly Marc and I need a evening out
3. Which pieces are missing and need to be replaced from my breast pump
4. Christmas
5. Bok choy

Probably should have just posted some pictures, huh?

An indicator of my mood today...

Marc: Can I get you a shot of espresso, honey? Upside your head?

Given the opportunity, I would take '07 back and do the whole thing over again, making the one change that would change everything. Instead, we just keep moving further away from that day, taking with us what we've learned, how we've grown, and the blessings that have found us.

Despite everything, Olivia thrives. As difficult as her illness is on her, I have come to realize that she will never in her life be as unaffected by it all as she it right now. Right now, we do the worrying for her. It hurts my heart to know that it won't always be so, but for now, I love that she is such a happy (albeit napless) kid.

Marc and I have weathered storm after storm and have a relatively unscathed marriage. It isn't perfect, but it is stronger.

I continue to miss NYC and fantasize about life in the city, but if we were still there, we wouldn't be here with our families and I honestly don't know what we would do without having so much family so close. It's beyond nice having two grandparents, seven parents, and seven siblings within a day's travel from home. (If you need for me to diagram this for you, just let me know. It's only complicated until you hear the explanation.)

Friends have offered to learn how to care for Olivia so that we can have some time to ourselves; a certain someone has even taken a class. We've made some new connections here in our neighborhood and Olivia loved the weekly playgroup that we went to for several months before the holidays got too hectic.

We have two extremely helpful women in our corner, constantly helping us out with the day to day of diabetes care: our nurse practitioner at the endo's office and our pharmacy tech at the local pharmacy. I can always count on them to go the extra mile and do what they can to make things run smoothly.

All in all, when I think back on this year, these are the things I think about. I am nostalgic for the year that could have been, how different things could be, but I am not sorry for the way that we have dealt with it all. Symbolically, I am glad to see 2007 go, for the feeling of having something new coming up. I hope beyond hope for new advances, for a cure.

So, onward to 2008...

 

Happy New Year!

Marc and I went out together...alone...for the first time in many, many moons last night. We'll call it Date Nite 2007. We're trying to make this happen with a little more frequency, but for now it seems to be an annual event.

We went to Table 2 and I was pleasantly surprised, because I have read some less than stellar stuff about their service. Service last night was fine, the food was great, and the martini was damn near perfect. So that was nice. We went to the theater for a late movie and I think that I could have sat in the lobby for a couple of hours watching all the teen drama going down. The place was so full of free-floating anxiety, angst, and lust...it was well worth the price of admission.

I was prepared to love The Darjeeling Limited as much as I love Wes Anderson's other movies, but I didn't quite and I am not entirely sure why. I just felt too conscious of the experience of it as a Movie. Know what I mean? Instead of being totally captivated by what Anderson had created, I felt sort of annoyed with Owen Wilson and his peacock feathers. It definitely had its moments, especially the very beginning and the scenes with the boys in India, but I felt a bit meh about it. Maybe I'll like it more after I see it again.

(I know, I know...I'm sort of phoning this one in, but it is Sunday.)

"You can burp on command?"

"You didn't know that?"

"That's what I love about you, honey. Five years of marriage and I am still learning new things about you."

"Happy anniversary!"

Painting in progress.
Marriage intact.
Pictures imminent.

Happy anniversary, Marc. I told you this morning that these have been the best four years of my life. Good times are better and hard times are easier with you here. You are one of the most grounded, trustworthy people I have ever met and I feel so grateful to be your wife, your friend, and the mother of your child. I love you, sweetheart.