sueeeus

It’s been that kind of a morning…

Where the head is pounding so hard that it wakes you up at 3 am and you lie as still as you can hoping you can relax enough to go back to sleep and pray that the headache will be gone when you wake up, but you finally give up and stumble downstairs to take 4 ibuprofen, yes, 800 milligrams, then lie as still as possible waiting for them to take effect, knowing it will be at least 20 minutes, all the while wondering if you should perhaps go try and throw up because possibly if might make you feel better, and you actually nearly talk yourself into trying it when you hear the baby crying and need to get him a bottle and hopefully get him to go back to sleep so that you yourself can go back to sleep and hopefully, oh hopefully, wake up without the headache.

Where, two hours later, you get up because the baby is up again, and you are blissfully happy that the headache has receded, even though you can feel it lingering and you keep on hoping that it won’t return as you try to calculate through the fog that is in your brain how many hours you will have to wait before you can subject your body to any more ibuprofen.

Where you call in sick to the office, but you have to keep the baby home all day too, because, after all, he started all of this, with the pink eye and germs he brought home from daycare, and he can’t go back for 24 hours.

Where he feels fine and wants to play and you’re miserable with aches and pains and congestion and phlegm, all on the way to a full blown sinus infection, so you barricade him into the living room with the sofa making most of the barricade and you lie down so that your body spans the rest so that he is fully enclosed and can play with a pile of toys while you try to sleep a little bit more, just a little bit more.

Where he plays with the lid to his drum and decides to bang it on your head. Oops, says his expression, but not really.

Where he thinks it is not much fun at all to be confined to a play space with his mama when there is a whole house to explore beyond her.

Where you finally think you are ready to handle some coffee and toast, because your tummy is grumbling and your head is starting to pound again, but you’re not sure whether it will help or hurt, but you don’t dare anyway, because you don’t want to make any noise since the baby finally fell asleep for his morning nap, so instead you go whine about it all on your blog…

It’s been that kind of a morning.

Last night I was lurking among the handful of blogs where I tend to lurk, and I happened upon a link to an intelligence quiz on Angie’s blog (Angie who has an amazing home, accomplishes incredible projects, both in quality and quantity, and is about to have a baby, hooray!). I decided to try it, just for fun. The score key says 1-5 is average, and 19+ is genius. I put alot of pressure on myself, because I like to think that I’m kind of smart, and I’d hate to find out otherwise. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got past 5! I was also relieved to find that I didn’t have to go in order, so I could go through the list and finish what I could figure out and go back to the stumpers. I finally gave up, with a score of 31, and googled the remaining two that I couldn’t figure out. I’d have never gotten them, no matter how long I tried.

I had to make an enthusiastic comment on Angie’s blog, and in so reading, discovered that she is in the company of greatness, as it is now even more evident that there are geniuses in the blogosphere. I think everyone who commented had scores in the high 20s and up. Far beyond the 19 genius level. I am not surprised! I always marvelled at how intelligent everyone out there in blogland seems to be, with all the witty and clever things they write about. I think the set of population who are bloggers (at least in the sphere of blogs where I lurk) are smarties, yes indeed.
I envision Barney Fife’s expression when he’s all puffed up and pleased with himself — the one where he takes in a great big snort of air through his nose and mutters something like ‘yeh’.

Geniuses! The lot of us!

…in the one where I use real names and write out some of the deeper things of my heart, where tears are often shed, and comfort is often found. I write in this journal on momentous or meaningful occasions, like birthdays, Thanksgivings, Christmases, anniversaries, new year’s days, days of losing loved ones. And such.I started this journal on January 1st, 1994. I also sent one just like it to a certain Sweet Pea, but alas, it was lost in the mail. My fault. I should have wrapped it like Fort Knox.
See Tears.
I have many journals, though. All currently in work.
There is one for the master To Do list (top left). The first page is entitled, Projects in the Scheme of Things. There are pages with different categories of projects. Art projects. Sewing projects. Photo projects. And such. There is the special occasions journal (top center), mentioned earlier. Proceeding clockwise. The everyday journal, started on March 26, 2000. This one is filled with lists, dreams, thoughts, worries, hopes, disappointments, and such. Not just those reserved for special occasions. The last entry was on my 40th birthday, earlier this year. Next is the prayer journal. I write out prayers for people in this one. I recently started writing fragments of thoughts that might one day be turned into something beneficial for mankind, in the form of children’s stories. The fragments start with prayers for healing of broken hearts and how things in childhood are often carried into adulthood, along with the pain, tears, shame, doubt, misunderstanding and myriad other emotions. And such. The next journal is another list journal. A list of family members and gifts and projects that pertain to them. And such. We come to the pregnancy and feeding journal. This one is well worn. The title page says, New Beginnings, New Life, 17 May 2004. I started this journal the day I found out I was pregnant. My friend A., my college roommate gave me this journal. It has a beautiful picture of a ship on the cover, that reminds me of Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Dawn Treader. What a fantastic name. In this journal are thoughts and feelings, pregnancy experiences, doctor visits, letters to my unborn child, and, for the third trimester, a record of every single thing I ate, what time I injected insulin, how much and what kind. I was so disappointed to have acquired gestational diabetes, but I managed it well, and it disappeared when the placenta came out, just like the doctor said it would. In this journal is also recorded an entry for every time I’ve spent connected to my companion the Lactina. Time and amount. Milk for a year. And finally, the last journal. A sketch pad of sorts. Another project journal.

Journals are very therapeutic. I love journals. I love the written word. I love paper. And now, I love to blog. But I still write in my paper journals as well.