Confession Friday

OH. MY. DOG. It is FRIDAY. And not a minute too soon.

Time to confess…

• …that I had a moment of realization last night in which I went “OH!” and then, when BDH asked what was up, “…tomorrow’s ONLY Friday. We still have ONE MORE DAY TO GO until the weekend.” So, that shows how up-to-here I am with this week.
• …that I am woefully behind in getting back to people. Posting has been slow to nonexistent this week. I haven’t kept up with others’ blogs. Kendra and Alana, I owe email responses to you. Carmen, I need to send something off in the mail to you. I need to send a package, LONG PROMISED, to my niece. And anyone else I’ve missed — I’m sorry. I’ll get my shit together, I PROMISE. ACK. What HAVE I been doing with my time??
• …that I really miss nighttime. I am, and always have been, a night owl (provided I have time to sleep the following day). I have always done my best work and been at my most creative at night. But now that I am getting up early and hanging with That Baby all day, I have to get to bed reasonably early and so night time is full of a little relax time or maybe some work, followed by preparing for tomorrow, followed by a quick read and then bed. But so many great ideas, and good posts, and plans and thoughts, come to me late in the evening, and I can’t do anything with them. Just this week, I was lying in bed Monday night, and I came up with a fantastic post. But I was in bed and needed to get to sleep, so I was all “I’ll be sure to write it down tomorrow”. By morning it was gone.
• …that something in my garbage smells funny. But I am cheap, and the garbage bag is not full yet, so I refuse to tie it off and put it out until it is full. I AM SO CHEAP I WILL PUT UP WITH A WEIRD SMELL RATHER THAN THROW OUT A HALF-FULL GARBAGE BAG. Gah. Therapy. Really. It’s worth the money.
• …that I have been in a significant amount of pain this week. There’s something wrong with my knee. Okay, something probably STILL wrong with my knee, because if I am honest, I injured them both in university. I think there may be a bit of cartilage floating about in there that’s causing some irritation. But who knows? Between torn cartilage/meniscus, PFS, and likely arthritis from neglect, it could be ANYTHING. But I initially injured them playing university ball, in the dark ages of sports med, and back then, there wasn’t anything you could do about it. And now that physiotherapy and sports medicine has advanced enough that there probably IS something that can be done… I haven’t a competent enough doctor or the time without That Baby on my hip to deal with it.
• …that I sucked it up and signed up for an obligatory orientation course for my daughter’s upcoming speech therapy. This is significant because a) I am pissed at the fact that I even have to attend a stupid course, arranging free time without Stinkerbelle to do so, and 2) I am pissed at the speech therapists for taking 7 months — something like 20 percent of her LIFE — to finally get my daughter in for therapy. And it may not even be ACTUAL therapy; it may be an “Oh, we should touch base before the client gets pissed” sort of appointment. Well, let me tell you, Wee Talk — I ALREADY AM PISSED. And my kid is talking like crazy now, NO THANKS TO YOU. But I am doing this because I OWE IT TO HER. So don’t expect me to be exactly receptive to what you have to say after all this.
• …that because of my knee injury, I had to stop exercising. AGAIN. Even yoga was too much. It’s fine; I know I need to take it easy. But what sucks is that my reward for exercising every day in January was going to be a trip to the yarn store to buy some yarn and needles. And now that’s off, and I’m going to have to wait until February. DoG knows I don’t NEED yarn, but it was going to be a bit of a treat. So that’s kind of a bummer.
• …that I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that we can’t adopt again. It’s really a hard reality to face, but it IS the way things are. But it is hard. BDH and I have talked about it, and we know it’s just not a possibility. As much as we regret it, it IS the responsible decision. And we are lucky enough to have our dream come true in Stinkerbelle, so we really can’t complain or want for much, if we are honest. But still, every time I see someone announce they are adopting again, or read about how their second/third/umpteenth adoptions are going, I admit that I struggle and my heart pangs and I feel jealous. It will just take time to come to accept our reality, is all. All my life I have dreamt of a house full of (adopted) kids, and it just takes a while to let go of that dream. But it is getting easier, bit by bit.
• …that I have been accumulating a list of movies and shows that I am interested in watching. Most of them are period pieces or odd, nice little movies that nobody has ever heard of, or shows featuring some of my faves that I am curious about because I love these actors’ other work. Thankfully, my Netflixation and the Tubes of You can help with quite a few of them because they are also not current. If I had to buy or rent all these things I’d be bankrupt. Now it’s just a matter of finding time to watch them. Good thing I have a knitting challenge to help me with this!!
• …that there are moments in my day, when my daughter says something to me, or I watch her run to greet her daddy in her jammies, or she spontaneously does or says something new, or she gets a certain look on her face… I admit that I did not think it possible that my heart could continually fill up, and that I could fall in love with her over and over again. But it is, and I can. And it makes everything worthwhile.