The Age of Reason. Sort of :)

I'm home today---my husband has a nasty migraine (though really, is there any such thing as a non-nasty migraine?) and has been suffering from it since about o'dark thirty this morning. So it's pretty much me and Roisin today. This, coming on top of the Cold Virus of Doom (which we all had over Yule and are all---still---trying to get over) makes me really want to go throw a pity party, table for three. We're all just getting sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Which brings me to my daughter. She's had the crud since Christmas day (and for one of Dante's rings of hell, nothing quite matches a sick, cranky three year old with parents who've had roughly three hours sleep between them.) When Roisin is sick, she alternates between being cranky and being clingy. But as she's been getting better, I've noticed something.

I can reason with her now.

No, I'm not talking about advanced level discourse---we'll not be solving the problems in the middle east anytime soon, or ending the war in Iraq. But she's getting to the point now where I can talk to her and at least explain what she's doing wrong and what Rob or I have asked her to do. I don't pretend that she immediately does it, or that we don't have to repeat ourselves---she's three, after all. But it's the difference between not being able to explain to her (because she wouldn't get it) and being able to communicate fully with her.

It's a nice change, if a little unnerving at times. She's changed so much in just the last year---it wasn't so long ago that we were seriously considering having her evaluated for a possible speech delay. But to look at her now...she's growing more into her own person. And I wonder what else she'll tell us.

To My Daughter, on Her Birthday

Today, at 2:45 am, you turned 3. (When you read this, I know you'll wonder, as I used to with my mom, how in the heck I could remember the exact time, but trust me. When your life changes forever, you tend to take notice of the time.) They dried you off and your dad and I waited for your first cry and there it was---thin, but annoyed as hell. You were a fighter---but then, after all we went through just to get you here, I knew that.

When I look at you now, the only sign of your NICU stay is the couple of IV scars you still have---you might lose them in time, but I sort of hope not. They're your history, symbols of how strong you had to be before you even knew what strong was. And, incidentally, how strong you made us. You were there for five weeks, and every day we saw you, every day we took pictures. I'm glad we did, because to look at those pictures now and remember, is to see a miracle.

You're walking and talking and trying so hard to figure out your world that you astonish your dad and I both with how much you're understanding. And you've discovered the fine art of pouting, lower lip and all. Your dad and I are doing our level best to teach you right from wrong in spite of the lower lip tremble, just so you know. (And by the way, it's very cute, that look. We can't give in...but it's cute, just the same.)

So this is my wish for you on your third birthday: that you continue to be strong and healthy, that you love carefully but fully, and that though you won't always agree with us (I can guarantee that) that you'll never doubt how very much you're loved.

Happy birthday, Roisin. :-)

Actually, the Winter Solstice is the reason for the season....

Dear Co-worker,

I've known you forever. You're a good person, and a great friend. And I'm thrilled you've found your faith again. I really am.

But, for the love of [insert deity of your choice here] can you please stop sending me religious emails? You know I'm Wiccan. This means that I celebrate Yule at this time of year, among other things which we've talked about and which I know you know about.

I don't want emails about how "Jesus is the reason for the season"---it's a nice rhyme, but it's not true, since Jesus wasn't born in December.

I don't want emails about how we should pray for our country (apparently, we need to pray extra hard now that our president is reaching out to members of other faiths. Right. Because this is SUCH a problem, and the fact that 1 in 8 Americans is on food stamps is a minor concern. /end sarcasm.)

I don't want emails about how there should be prayer in school. There shouldn't be, unless it's a private religious school. I believe strongly in the separation of church and state.

I don't want that email about St. Theresa's money prayer that I know you've sent me ten or twelve times in the last year---don't you think the saint has better things to do than monitor our emails and keep track of who forwards it?

I don't want the email on the latest conspiracy theory/doctored picture/email scam that you've received and decided to send to me because "I'll know if it's fake." Your trust is touching, but really, I use Snopes.com. Nothing complicated or mystical. Trust me.

And finally...before you hit "Send," please think twice. I know the temptation is to assume that everyone around you is some form of Christian, but a good many of your co-workers and friends may not be. We are not all the same and many people keep their beliefs out of the workplace. I don't have a problem with your beliefs. Please respect mine.

Things I Learned from My Cats :)

1) Love carefully, but love fully.

2) No matter what the question is, sleep is the answer.

3) Don't forget to sleep in the sun whenever possible.

4) Stop and listen to the birds.

5) Never underestimate the ability of small silly things to make you happy (anyone seen a cat with a shoestring lately, or a piece of foil? 'Nuff said.)

6) Stretching feels gooood.

7) There's nothing wrong with being independent.

8) Don't be afraid to take a risk for fear of looking silly. If you fail, you can always claim you meant to do that in the first place. (This isn't completely original. George Carlin had a skit years ago in which he talked about how cats would fall and yet make it look like they meant to do that. But I think the principle holds true.)

9) Getting through life is at least 90% a matter of attitude.

10) And finally, there isn't anything wrong with the world that a warm cat, a soft blanket, and a cup of hot chocolate can't cure.

My thanks to Tess, Tasha, Shadow, Cilla, Earl, Elvis, Griffin and Sochi who taught me these lessons. May Bastet watch over you all.

RIP, Soichiro-chan 1994 (???) - 2009

I had to say goodbye to a good friend today. I had to put my cat down today.

Sochi found me in 1997. Those of you who are cat people know that you don't find them---they find you. Sochi found me in a muddy, oily hole-in-the-wall segment of a parking lot (literally; he'd crawled into a loosened area of brick to hide.) He'd been dumped---to this day, I can't imagine that. For the 12 years I was privileged to know him, Sochi was the best example of a cat. He was faithful and fearless and a good friend and companion (and, until I met my husband, he was my most stable male relationship.)

He had such personality, I can't begin to describe it. He might have had some Siamese in him (I certainly couldn't tell it from looking; he was a tuxedo cat through and through) but he sure was vocal enough to make me wonder. There was one meow for "it's time to get up and feed me" and another for "it's time to go to bed" and several thousand others for all the conversations he had in the course of a day. For the longest time, it was just he and I and his talking made me feel much less alone.

I let him go today because he was old and sick and his kidneys had finally, finally shut down. He was a good friend and among the best of cats, and I owed him a graceful exit (and so much more.)

Sochi, my friend, rest in peace. Go play with Tasha and Tess and Shadow and Ginger and Gypsy and Schatze and Klein and all the other animals we've loved and lost. They've been waiting for you. I'll miss you.

It's Me. Posting Again :)

Hi everyone,

Sorry, I fell off the earth there for a bit (well, not really---I was active on my fanfic blog, just not here.;) I've spent the last month or so trying to stay off the radar at work (and mostly succeeding) and trying to keep track of an active, growing toddler (and definitely succeeding there. :-))

We're looking at moving to a larger place after the holidays. No, not to a house---we don't have near the money we'd need to pull that off, and in this economy, I'm not sure we want to take on a California-sized mortgage just now. We're looking at moving to a larger apartment so that the wee one can finally have a room of her own (yes!) and my hubby can have some place for his book business that doesn't involve, oh, every other room in our house. :)

Which brings me to the one change that I fear will be coming sooner rather than later. Sochi, the cat whom I almost had put to sleep in July, is ailing once again. Nothing wrong with him besides being older than Noah, but it's obvious he's coming to the end of the road. I just hate the idea of having to be the one to make a choice to end his life---but after all the years we've had together, I think I owe him more than keeping him alive and in failing health just so I don't have to make the decision. It's a tough call, again, but one I think we'll be making pretty soon.

Tomorrow is Veterans' Day here in the US. If you are veteran, or are serving now, thank you.

Please Don't Feed the Drama Llama :-)

I know it's been a long time (well, a couple of weeks) since I've posted--sorry about that :) I've been busy writing, but the bulk of my time lately has been spent keeping up with (and staying calm around) our resident drama llama.

Yup. NA strikes again.

In brief, she went to my supervisors to blather about how I wasn't doing my job properly. [insert eyeroll here] Without being too specific, the mistakes I made were a direct result of her piss poor communication skills, incomplete directions, as well as some things I should have been made aware of, but wasn't. (I'm not sure who dropped the ball there...but it's annoying, no matter what the ultimate cause was.)

And while I will apologize for mistakes I legitimately made--because, hey, we all make them---I'm not about to fall on my sword just because some attorney with an over-developed sense of drama decided to (metaphorically) stomp her feet and throw a fit.

Other than that...life is going pretty well right now. Hubby is healthy. The wee one (who is not so wee---but growing like the proverbial weed) is happy andalso healthy and (blessedly) normal (or at least as normal as she was going to be coming out of our gene pools. :-P) And I've been writing a lot on my fanfiction blog...it's nice to have the muse back. :-)

I could do without the drama, though. Le sigh. :)