Elizabeth is one. And I am still Lorazepam-free. (But a note to parents: If you think you worry too much, just watch five minutes of Bubble Wrap Kids. I guarantee, you'll be singing your own praises!)
Abby went to live on a farm. (No, not that kind of farm. You know, the one your parents told you "Lucky" went when you were
a kid.) I managed to keep it together until the moment she was walked
out the door and I closed it behind her. And then I broke down. As I put
her beds away, I sobbed. As I swept away the excessive traces of her
fur, I sobbed. I felt like I had failed her. And
I'm sure there are many pet-enthusiasts out there who would agree. But in many
ways, my failures as a pet-owner are my successes as a parent. And that's indisputable.
I still haven't started Lost, but I do think I've finally
managed to defeat this cold/cold/flu thing. One of the unfortunate
side effects of this latest kick to my immune system was having to
forfeit my scheduled day at Ste. Anne's Spa last Friday, and possibly my entire
deposit. Everything was set. A eucalyptus body wrap at 10:30. A
three-course lunch at 12:00. Yoga at 2:30. And afternoon tea at 4:00.
Instead, I settled for eucalyptus-scented shower gel, which I swiped
from our guest bathroom; a breakfast sandwich, which I was sure I'd see
again in the near future; a leg-to-mattress friction exercise, which briefly remedied my
cold chills; and a double dose of Pepto Bismol, which tasted distinctly
like liquified Dubble Bubble with a dash of chalk. But I'm no connoisseur.
Elizabeth still freaks out over lemons. What gives?
I no longer set my alarm for 6:30. Or at all, for that matter. But I still hate deadlines.
Someone did throw up at my New Year's Eve party...twice. Thank you to (then) three-month-old Harper for keeping the tradition alive!
Oh yeah, and I'm entertaining the idea of taking on some "real" freelance work....
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