Bibliomama

 I guess I'll just say a bunch of random stuff because I keep sitting down trying to write a post about.... something....anything..... and failing. It's been decided that in the fall Eve is going to McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, about four and a half hours away. She was accepted into the Arts and Science Program, which is really cool - limited-enrollment, interdisciplinary, emphasis on social awareness and developing transferable skills. Matt and I both went to McMaster, and we had friends in the program, and Matt's brother later went into it. Matt encouraged Eve to apply while I was sort of hoping she would go to McGill in Montreal, two hours away in a cool city with her friend Davis. Davis's mom and I (HI JODY) have become really good friends and I had visions of excellent Montreal adventures with and without our daughters. Plus if she was homesick or anything bad happened I would only be two hours away. Well, things didn't so much go my way on this. M...

 I cannot promise greatness today. Or goodness. Or general coherence. I have been going through my blog posts from the first one in January 2009 and noticing how much I talk about coughing and lack of sleep. Since I was diagnosed with sleep apnea which they think started in my adolescence but wasn't diagnosed until I was in my forties, I'm happy to observe and report and remind myself to feel grateful about the fact that I cough less. Something about my airways being chronically inflamed because of all the gasping desperately for oxygen, I presume. It would be really awesome if I could report that the sleep apnea treatment had solved all my problems with, you know, SLEEP, but not so much. To be fair, going up against the perimenopause and Covid anxiety twofer is a tall order. But even before, I was never one of the poster children for a CPAP being a lifechanging miracle. That's okay, I don't require a lifechanging miracle. The CPAP was helping, until I hit perimenopause...

 So in this post , this woman named Shawna followed a link to my blog from Swistle's (everyone knows Swistle, right? If not, absolutely just ditch my blog right now and go to Swistle's if you haven't, she's awesome, big, big fan). And then was surprised and amused to find out that we live in the same Ottawa suburb. That was cool. So on Tuesday I went to the chiropractor and then got groceries. I was grumpy. I was wearing a cloth mask after weeks of wearing nothing but medical ones because my chiropractor is fully vaccinated and I wasn't going to be close to anyone else and I like the smell of the dish soap I boil the cloth masks in and I hate the smell of the medical masks, but everything still smelled bad and I hadn't slept well and we're in lockdown and all I want to do is sleep but I do it badly, and you know the drill. Anyway, I got my groceries and I was loading them into my car, probably wearing a textbook example of Resting Bitch Face, and from the c...

I know I said I was done with the wallowing. I gave my head a shake! I got some perspective! I was ready to move forward!  I am not ready to move forward. Well, I am in theory, but I am just lacking the bodily resources to make it happen. Last night I slept like I had been drugged or cursed by a poisoned wagon wheel. Wait, that's not right. Spinning wheel. Eve said she feels the same, so maybe it's just the weather. Pam and I went for a great walk last Thursday and declared that we would do the same at least once a week. The following Wednesday I looked at the weather and said "oh great, it's supposed to rain for the next six...seven...NINE DAYS?" Saturday and Sunday were sunny and cold and then warmer. I hate when people on social media tell me to go outside because it's beautiful, but I did, in fact, force myself to go outside and do the stupid little walk for my stupid mental health. Saturday I got Eve to go with me, and Sunday Matt and I walked over to my ...