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Late 30s going on 70

A cloudy sky with a small hole of bright blue

It finally feels like fall here, it was about 48F when I took the kids to school and daycare. Enjoyed getting dressed for that sort of weather, not so much sunscreen and sweat. And my ears don’t hurt in the wind anymore thanks to the hydroxychloroquine, turns out that was Raynaud’s. But the joint pain is much more obvious with the cold. That might improve over time, but this is my now.

Late-30s going on 70. I’ve been taking a lot of comfort in Ursula Le Guin’s writing, as usual, but her writing on aging and the fallibility of the body is particularly resonant.

The pain in my feet, knees, and hips was enough the other day that it suddenly dawned on me. Do I need a cane? Maybe I need a cane. Let’s get a cane. I found a secondhand one online from some estate sale in California and sawed it down to size. I won’t need it often, but there’s something about having something that I picked, that someone else previously found useful, that I modified just for me, that makes life-changing pain a little more visible when it’s not that obvious, pain that I can’t explain to acquaintances, friends, strangers, without bursting in to tears. Having something to hold, to lean on, to signify “hey, maybe let me take that bus seat if that’s alright”, is really comforting.

I’m hoping that visual signifiers will also help with the kids. That’s the hardest, most sorrowful part. Reminding him that I have “inside boo-boos” when he wants to play bath monsters, “I know mommy”, running to ask daddy instead. Her looking at me carefully with her big blue eyes saying “oo okayee?” when I wince after she jumps in to my lap. Yes, I’m okay my love. I’m not, but I’m okay enough.

My dad has dealt with chronic pain for years. I had no idea how much it drains the soul. I’m sorry.

It’s not all bad. Like I said, my ears don’t hurt in the cold now. Though everything else does, how’s that for a tradeoff. I can have dairy again, the lactose intolerance was a part of it all. And my highest and lowest notes are back with zero effort on my part, which was truly a shock.

So many things to be thankful for (insurance, savings, time, Sam, friends, family, neighbors, modern medicine, our walkable neighborhood, a good rheumatologist). And Carole King. How had I not listened to “Tapestry” in full before. What an unbelievable album. I put it on in a particularly low moment after I stumbled across a video of Aretha Franklin singing “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman” at the 38th Kennedy Center Honors gala. Every song on there is fantastic, but I was full of tears after the first line of “Beautiful”.

“You got to get up every morning with a smile on your face / and show the world all the love in your heart.”

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A bird

I came across a sparrow yesterday on the busy corner near B&A’s daycare on the way to pick them up. It looked like a tiny pile of leaves on the concrete, and people kept coming *this close* to stepping on it by accident. I realized what it was in exactly the same moment as a dad and his kid three steps ahead of me, the little boy started whispering worriedly. I picked it up gently and put it in the nearest reasonable spot, a very tall planter with a lot of greenery. It was like nothing, a little mound of trembling lint with claws. I know you’re not supposed to move stunned birds but I figured there was no way it wasn’t going to get flattened like a pancake otherwise. And it made sense, I was literally seconds away from daycare where they had a bathroom right by the door and I could wash my hands.

In the few remaining steps to daycare, I was instantly overwhelmed by a huge wave of deja vu and dread. I suddenly thought, “bird flu…” and was mentally thrown back in to the earliest days of the pandemic when everything was dire and nothing was certain, when we were wiping our groceries down with bleach wipes, wearing masks when passing someone on a trail in the woods, living with a permanent empty lump lodged somewhere between our throats and the base of our skulls and thinking, “Surely this isn’t right? Am I doing something wrong? Is this what I’m supposed to do to stay safe, to keep everyone safe, to make this go away?”

I washed my hands for 40 seconds and tried to stop thinking about it, but the feeling lingered the rest of the night, this existential what-if-I-just-seriously-fucked-up feeling, and it’s still sort of present now. I know it’s extreme but also, life feels pretty extreme right now.

I picked up AB and BB, and told BB about the bird. We walked up to the planter and found it still there, but under a few more leaves. It was gone by the same time the next day.

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Hello again

Red dragonfly on a wooden rail in the sun

It’s been a while! My site has fallen majorly by the wayside which both feels appropriate (see first point below) and makes me a bit sad. There’s a lot I’ve already forgotten. I want to analyze a bit more why I haven’t been posting… but that’s something I need to think a bit more about first.

A few notes to catch up on major points, and then hopefully back to posting semi-regularly.

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A postponed postpartum story

This is a mega-post about our daughter AB’s arrival a little over two months ago, with a bit about BB’s birth three years ago thrown in. I wanted to note some of that at the time but never did.

It’s mostly so I don’t forget, but maybe someone else will find it useful too. Maybe AB in the future if she ever decides to have kids.

This gets a bit in the weeds. If you’d rather not read about things like breastfeeding, IVs, episiotomies, etc, probably best to skip this.

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