Things I Would Blog About

Monday night of last week I was sitting in the study of my new apartment (ok it’s actually a little alcove the building management calls a dining room, but since formal dining is beyond me, I stuffed some desks, computer, and books in there), leaning back in my beat up old comfortable computer chair that’s missing its arm, watching my daughter play with her puppy, and chatting about nothing with this very good looking person I know, and then it suddenly struck me that I love my life.

I love my stupid, narrow hall way-ed, no linen closet, overpriced- for- what- it- is apartment. I love that little argumentative, constantly full of frustration and sarcasm, little freckled faced blonde God gave me.
I love my carpet spotting, fuzzy faced, butt waddling when he walks, lazy, pansy-arsed, scared of the dumbest things dog.
I love my good lookin’ friend.

I love my cut-off blue sweat pants that say Moab down the side and make my butt look huge! I love the stories I have to tell, and the ones I can’t yet, and the ones I finally spit out to the right people with satisfaction, and the way more things make me laugh than make me cry.

Sitting there I remembered that feeling I get sometimes when I am watching a movie and I look at the city the characters live in, or their houses, or swanky flats, or flawless skin, or adventures, and just something about their lives seemed so much more interesting, or promising, or just…you know, like a movie. Better. And I would think how nice it would be to be in the character’s place. But sitting there I realized, I didn’t want to be any of them. I wanted to be me, in this apartment. My life suddenly seems full of promise and I get to be in it.

And I thought, “Hey, I should totally post the feeling this moment is giving me on my blog.”

But then…dun dun dun ....

The following morning, Elsa woke me up at 5 am to say she did not feel well. By the time she woke me up she had already…how do I put this delicately for those with no children? She had thrown up all over her bed.

We spent the next 3 days, both of use throwing up violently every few hours. I know there were at least 72 hours in which I did not keep any food in my stomach at all and if I retained 2 ounces of fluid a day that would surprise me. These 3 days were followed by several days of feeling better, but experiencing excruciating stomach aches after eating even slight meals. Elsa described the same thing.

Yesterday was the first day we both were both "normal" again. And so my lovely post about my lovely moment got side tracked.

Then I got to thinking, I am continually thinking of things I should post...and I am continually getting sidetracked.

I was going to post a summary of those things I will probably never get around to, but I am a bit tired. Instead, at the top of this post, is a picture of the cutest kid there was in Utah County Halloween night.