sueeeus

I’ve had a box of course work that I’ve toted about for the last twenty some years. I don’t remember why I saved it for so long, other than a vague notion that I’d refer to it once in a while and refresh my memory of lessons learned. As if I would need to know how to do a Laplace transform. Or remember Thevenin’s equivalent. Or differential equations. I have used the equations I learned in economics for calculating amortizations and present and future values, before the advent of the www with its plethora of readily available calculators, but now there’s no need to remember how to calculate them by hand. It does astonish me, somewhat, to imagine that those squiggly scratches made some kind of sense at one time. Oh the things we can do when we’re young!

I bought this pencil in 1982 or 1983. I put much consideration into the quest for the perfect pencil, and it was a splurge, at $8, for a student on the brink of poverty. It continues to serve me well, and it reminds me of my youth. In retrospect, money well spent.

College for me was drudgery. I didn’t enjoy engineering school. I wanted a decent paying job at the completion of my degree, so it was merely a means to an end. I couldn’t imagine spending so much time and money on an education that wouldn’t serve me. That was back when I naively thought that the road to financial stability was the road to happiness. How often I’ve looked back and regretted not investing more in my heart. How different my life would be now.

All the same, my path is my path, and here I am. Learning to revere the journey. Learning to revere the day. This day. This moment. Now.

Had I not followed that path, where would I be? I can’t imagine a life without my beloved boy, so all steps that led me here were necessary steps in the journey.

So I wouldn’t change a thing.

And look at me now.  Mother of a superhero.  Can it be any better than that?

There’s really no significance behind the picture, other than I think it’s pretty. I like the way other bloggers post pictures of pretty or interesting or pretty interesting things on their blogs. I don’t have pretty or interesting or pretty interesting things happening in my life, in general, but why not post a pretty picture to add a little flourish to an otherwise dull post?

I’m analyzing the side effects of this Zoloft journey. Objectively and subjectively. The diarrhea was very short-lived, thankfully. Less than one day, really. Today is Day 4.   I feel a little dizzy or loopy, tired, and scattered.  Less anxious, though.  My neck and back are killing me, but that’s probably from my chiroquackery.  Yesterday I had the mother of all migraines. I don’t know if it was Zoloft related or not, but it’s certainly nothing that I want to repeat any time soon. There was less than no appetite, and nausea for sure, but those accompany migraine, so I can’t determine whether one caused another or whether one exacerbated the other, neither, or both. Migraine does a number on blood sugar, I see. No food and elevated glucose. I’d have liked to have taken ibuprofen to help the headache, but recently read that ibuprofen usage at the time of conception dramatically increases the chance of miscarriage. Not that I’ve conceived again, but if it’s at all in the realm of possibility, another miscarriage is the very last thing that I want to experience any time soon. So I took some acetaminophen. It didn’t help. I waited a few hours, did some frantic Google searching on the safety of Vicodin with Zoloft, found nothing concrete, and decided to just take the plunge and hope for the best. I stockpile my Vicodin, if ever I get a prescription, so that I have something for emergencies as this. It helped, in that it kept the pounding at bay so that I could get through the day. I thought the caffeine from some strong coffee might help, but I simply couldn’t stomach the idea of anything.

Did I mention that I was watching five kids this weekend? 15 yog, 11 yog, 7 yob, 2 yob, and 6 mos girl. Sitting on the floor at 3 a.m. holding a teething infant with diarrhea and a blistery red diaper rash, trying to change her diaper without inflicting too much pain, feeding her, comforting her, and trying to get her to go back to sleep, all the while breathing slowly through the pounding in my head, and repeating over and over again, Oh dear God, Oh dear God, why do I think I want another child, Oh dear God my head hurts, please don’t let me throw up. Granted, it’s a big step to go instantly from one child to five, and the migraine made it nearly unbearable. I love my nieces and nephew desperately, but how relieved I was for that day to be over! It takes a full night’s sleep for me to recover from a migraine, for some reason.

It fills my heart to bursting, though, to watch the joy in my son’s face as he plays with his cousin. Two rugged beautiful boys chasing each other in circles, running non-stop through the house, upstairs, downstairs, round and round and round, inside, outside, and back again.

It fills my heart with wonder to watch these beautiful children, and untold gratitude that they belong to us.