I'm Siiiiick

 Actually I'm mostly better now and I feel like my body is kind of looking around going what the hell just happened.

The flu has been tearing through my schools like fire through a paper factory. I got my flu shot (and my Covid shot), I have washed and sanitized the first few layers of skin off my hands, I have tried to maintain a healthy distance, but I kind of knew I was a dead woman walking. We had weekend plans because it's December, and we could have cancelled it all but everyone was working under informed consent and still wanted to do everything.

Friday night we went to the Christmas outdoor market with Matt's colleagues, two of whom were from California and wanted to try a beaver tail and... be cold, I guess? I love the Christmas market and really like these women. We picked up Maryam to drive down, and on the way we were trading funny stories about my husband, who suddenly realized that connecting the woman who knew all of his embarrassing stories from the office with the woman who knew all of his embarrassing stories from whom was perhaps a regrettable choice. Then we realized that Camille knew many of his embarrassing stories from travel, which closed some kind of magical miserable loop for him and was very enjoyable for all of us.

Saturday was my second annual Festive Special date with Holly, Kerry and Nat. Our group chat keeps me from committing violence on myself or others several times a week. 

Saturday night we had no plans, so we asked our friends who we will be seeing this Saturday for the big Christmas party if they wanted to come over for a ... small Christmas party? We had decorations up and the main floor was clean for fifteen minutes and it seemed like we should do something festive. Matt bought some cheese and crackers, I bought twelve bags of chips, Margot and Michael brought Lynzie for Lucy to play with, it was a really fun, chill night. 

(Adorable picture of Lucy and Lynzie that Blogger will not allow me to show to you because it is dumb and hates joy)

Sunday I woke up and I was sick. And worried I'd infected everyone else. But everyone else who was sick was sick right then or the next day, or is still not sick, so I am not Patient Zero. I thought it was just a cold because I didn't feel horrible, and usually the flu takes me down hard overnight. By bedtime I had a fever and my throat felt flayed and my ribs were so sore that coughing was agony. The last time I had the flu Matt and Eve had to fly to Florida without me for March Break and I almost died, so then I was kind of scared. But I slept for most of Sunday and Monday and by Tuesday felt like I was turning the corner. Last night was a kind of stoned-on-cold-meds fever dream that I spent half asleep and half awake and middle-of-the-night texting my niece who is in England and Suzanne who is in perimenopause.

My niece is brilliant and hilarious and we have a lot of similar mental health issues, so our text chain is robust and far-ranging. One of the best episodes in our history was when I met her first girlfriend and tried to say 'hey' but choked a tiny little bit and so it sounded the slightest bit like 'gHEY', which had us all doubled over howling with laughter. Her new girlfriend is bi, so under the influence of opioid cough syrup I texted "hey, remember when I met your first gf and said gay? I was thinking what if I meet this one and it all goes great and then at the end I say 'bye' and you scream "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU". 

Today I ventured back into the world (masked again) and am only sort of experiencing that terrible alienated-from-the-world feeling that comes from trying to get back in the swing after being out of the swing. I haven't baked anything or wrapped anything yet, but there are actually some days left before Christmas (time has truly lost all meaning). My husband who supplied me with icy drinks and popsicles to soothe my burning throat seems unscathed by illness so far (I made sure he got his shots before he traveled for three weeks out of the last four, and often his immune system is what we call "China Strong", so fingers crossed). The kids are both vaccinated and okay - it feels counter-intuitive to be bringing them towards, rather than away from, my flu-ridden city. We just have to make sure my parents stay protected. 

Love and bleach, friends. If you can't stay sane, stay healthy. 

HA ha ha ha ha. No.

 Contrary to what dear Steph understood, I did NOT catch the 'eat peroxide' text before I sent it, just soon enough afterwards that it didn't sit there radiating poisonous (ha) energy. 

As for Engie and thinking about times when that would NOT be an autocorrect, my friend Holly (HOLLY) of the Slutty Mrs. Claus fame (in addition to just wearing the costume, when she came out of the dark loge at the end of the night she realized that one side of the top had ripped open and her bra was fully displayed. COME AND GET HER, BIG RED) said that her husband had dumped the cleaning brushes in the sink and poured tomato sauce on them, and then she sent us this from Google:

Husbands, be on guard. We might have to erase our chat history. Possibly related, shortly afterwards she sent us this, lamenting that it wouldn't get here in time for our lunch date on Saturday. 

Tiny. Jockey-shaped. Keychain. 

It was very cold and blowy, but all of us ventured out for various reasons, after much group encouragement, which is only one reason why this chat is such an enormous gift, even when we're talking about penis-shaped stuff. 

Tuesday night I went to a really fun dinner with a bunch of my husband's sales people, a couple of whom I have met. Even the people I had never met were very friendly and easy to talk to. I had to text Suzanne for a pep talk beforehand because this kind of thing makes me so anxious, but once I got there it was pure enjoyment, which is a really nice thing.

Wednesday was also cold and it snowed/sleeted all day. I had to clean my car off after morning school AND afternoon school, and it was sticky snow that was almost impossible to get off. The roads were also quite bad, and I was determined to get to the library to drop off books and pick up holds, but it really wasn't the best decision. Fortunately neither the school nor the library are very far from home, so I got there with only a few minutes of slow, harrowing, slippery driving.

Today I was doing a few errands before Matt needed the car for a work lunch. You know that moment where it suddenly seems like everyone has lost their minds in the Christmas run-up? Today seemed to be that moment here. People were running stop signs, blocking grocery aisles, giant trucks were pausing in the exit lane, then maybe turning, then pausing again. The checkout person at Farm Boy seemed determined to do everything in as slow and awkward a fashion as humanly possible. I was packing my own groceries, and he kept putting things down right beside him, which was more than an arm's length away from where I was bagging, which....? Maybe he was new, I thought. Maybe people have a lot going on (most of them do) and that is why they are driving dumbly. So I managed to only complain in my mind, and also only curse at people driving in my own car without using the horn, and that was the best I could do. I also mentally wished them all happy holidays (and maybe a driving lesson or two).

All to say, I am trying to lean into the Christmas wackiness and maintain a sweet-natured equanimity (WHAT? It's theoretically possible!) and I am so grateful for everyone online and in real life helping me not to go medical on someone's obnoxious-Ford-F1 ass. 

(Also another really fun penis post is here. It was a game the whole family could play! You know, if you find your day lacking in Penis Talk). 

When Your Head's Not in the Game

 So I had a rough night Sunday heading into Monday. I don't know if this is common with migraines, but one feature of many of mine is that it isn't readily apparent that I'm getting a migraine. I just have this nagging feeling of things not being right, like maybe I'm getting a stomach bug, and why is my mouth so dry, and I get really irritable. Even though this accumulation of things should make me think 'migraine', it's often hours before it does. It's somehow an annoying feature of this syndrome that its nature makes it unrecognizable.

So I woke up Monday morning and just felt Bad. I used to be cranky any morning I had to wake up early, and to forestall just being a bitch across the board I would not talk much. I've gotten over that - having kids sort of makes it necessary- and my husband and I generally chat amiably while getting ready and then as I drive him to my mom and dad's, where he drops off the dog and either takes their vehicle to work or walks the rest of the way. Monday morning I was sullen and silent and stabbed the radio button off spitefully when I started the car and it came on too loud. Matt got out of the car, grabbed the dog carrier and said "have a good day". I muttered "don't fucking tell me what to do", but I waited until after he'd closed the door.

I made it through the work day and did some errands and picked up Lucy and visited my parents, then came home and decided to actually cook dinner. I made sheet pan chicken thighs and cauliflower with a balsamic sauce, and I mixed everything and laid out everything and put it in the oven and for some reason I put on the exact time the recipe said and then just walked away and trusted that that would work. Why? I NEVER do that. I ALWAYS put less time than the recipe says and check on it.

I was at the kitchen table writing out Christmas cards when I suddenly got a whiff of burning smell, and then a delivery man rang the doorbell and Lucy lost her mind, and I had to deal with the delivery and Lucy just kept barking, and then he left and I had burned the shit out of a whole meal for the first time, like...ever, maybe?

I was feeling like this maybe just wasn't my day. I put the sheet pan on the top of the stove and texted Matt that I had just burned dinner and he should not walk in the house and say "is there something burning?" if he valued his life. Then I typed "you can eat perogies", which he had bought the day before. Except it autocorrected to "you can eat peroxide". When I saw that I started laughing so hard I couldn't catch my breath, which reminded me how dry my mouth was, and then I started crying a little, and THEN I realized that I had a migraine (and texted my husband that 'peroxide' was a lot more hostile than what I was going for).

So if I accidentally wrote anything profane in a Christmas card that comes your way, I apologize.

Christmas Car(d)nage

 I love sending Christmas cards. I hate sending Christmas cards. My (non)system for Christmas cards is so ridiculously chaotic, I keep telling myself I need to amend it, and yet I do not.

I assume the normal way to do Christmas cards is to buy a box of Christmas cards for that year, or order a certain number of a pre-printed card with family photos? I am bad with tech and for some reason I don't want to send the same thing to everyone, so instead I buy any box of cards that catches my fancy near Christmas or after Christmas. Then I sit at my table with a giant varied pile of Christmas cards and look at my list of addresses and sort of go by vibes on which person gets which card.

And the photos. Do I narrow it all down to one great family pic, or put three or four varied ones on a card? Ha ha ha ha no of course not. I get a selection of wallet photos printed and then again, based on which members of my nuclear or extended family the card receiver is familiar with, I pick a few relevant photos. 

It's DUMB. The past couple of years the photos have gotten here late, this year I can't even remember where I ordered them from so I can't even track the order. I also always have way too many, so if you get a Christmas card from me it will be full of small random pictures from last year or three years ago or ten years ago - feel free to throw them out, at least this way I don't have to. 

I also like to keep one card from every kind of card I send. 

Clearly I am a fan of the stylized triangular Christmas tree. I also like the Little House in a Dark Woods theme, or anything with snow.

Some of the quirkier choices. 

I have mostly stopped buying cards with glitter. I am like a magpie, but it's annoying for other people and probably not great for the environment. 

I am of the firm opinion that Christmas card envelopes should be red. Unfortunately I often forget about this when buying the actual cards, or the design of the card persuades me that it's worth the trade-off. But seriously. They should be red. 

I started writing and addressing cards Friday night without organizing anything, in the midst of an insane allergy attack. I got ten done, but it was not a joyous experience. Today, for the first time in many years I actually took everything out of the Christmas card bag and the Christmas card box I haul all the stuff around and separated out the cards I am keeping, the cards I can send, address labels and, oh look, on the plus side sometimes I discover a forgotten treasure trove of stamps.

Score!

Everything is sorted into old Christmas card boxes, and I feel quite a bit more serene sitting down to do the rest, except for the part that my system is still kind of bonkers. And with Canada Post still doing rotating strikes, a lot of them are probably going to be late, which is fine, I guess (it's NOT FINE, I don't WANT them to be late, *stamps foot*) 

Oh well. For a change, the snow started hours after my husband got home rather than minutes after he left (he's been gone three weeks out of the past four, I should perhaps begin calling him my 'occasional lodger' instead). 

The tree in the wreath ornament from my last post is from All Through the Night, a crafter that makes figures out of cotton muslin which are then sprayed with an adhesive. They are at a craft show I go to every year, and my mom has bought many of the angels for Eve which I will photograph when I get to that box. I had already made a purchase one year and then saw the wreath and had to make another purchase because I had to have it. 

Wanna See Some Giant Balls?

 I went for a walk! I wore a winter coat! And a thing that went around my neck sometimes and around my ears other times. And real mittens, with fleece inside. The temperature is officially at 'my face hurts' level. But it's also sunny and I kind of love it, it feels a bit like pouring grapefruit juice through your head from one ear to the other. We had such a long weird fall that when the wind whipped up you were liable to be smacked by a current of madly whirring snow AND a clutch of elm keys. 

I'm in a pretty good system for decorating. My aim is to get up the stuff I like the most without also having a bunch of bins and boxes also decorating the main floor, so I go down every couple hours and bring up one box, take whatever I want out of it and bring it back down before bringing up another one. I do this all very carefully because I have a constant fear that I'm going to break my neck falling down the stairs when Matt's not here and not be found for days - wait, I guess if I broke my neck it wouldn't really matter if I was found for days. Except for Matt, that would be unpleasant for him. 

Anyway. 

My favourite pieces are out.

The card stocking is up. It is reminding me that I am way behind on my Christmas cards, which is lame because I was so excited that I could actually mail some this year, but oh well, we do what we can. 

There's nothing on the tree yet but it's nice to have it lit. I don't know about you, but my philosophy in December is 'give me all the crap that lights up and give it to me NOW'. I will probably put the generic ornaments on before the kids get home, and then we'll have our decorating session and photo shoot where they put all their personal things on.

I am going to share the most ridiculous thing that is making me so happy right now, which is the result of a not-great thing. So I mentioned that my running shoes and my boots and orthotics all needed to be replaced at once, which is annoying financially but we can afford it, so, grateful. I got new running shoes, got fitted for new orthotics, and remembered my friend Nat had generously given me a pair of Docs that didn't fit her well. 

Both my old running shoes and my old Docs were really tough to get on. I know it's hard to think about how you put on shoes when you're not doing it, but if I'm standing up I lift the shoe up, stick my foot in, pull the back mostly on and then rely on putting my foot down to get it the rest of the way on. This didn't work with my last pair - I would have to bend down or stick my foot on a step or something and really crank my thumb in to not let the back fold over and drive me insane. Similarly with my Docs, it was a real struggle to wrestle them on. I would often be driving to visit my parents and pick up Lucy after work and actually cringe at the thought of having to get my boots off and then back on, with my feet tired and sore after working all day.

BOTH my new Asics and new Docs slip on like a dream. I guess I got a slightly different style of Asics, and Nat's boots are a slightly different style. And oh my goodness it makes a disproportionally big difference to how easy it makes getting ready to leave the house. I used to feel so frustrated and ungainly and like this must somehow be related to being too fat (my feet being too fat? I don't know, self-loathing is complicated). 

Comfort and Joy!

Oh, and lest I be accused of click-baiting...

This is the First Day of the Rest of Your December

 I always post the day after NaBloPoMo is over, and then I think, with adorable optimism, "maybe I will keep posting every day! What a good way to think deeply about more things and write more!" I will leave it to your good sense to assume whether or not that has ever worked out.

I had an amazing weekend but didn't get a lot of sleep, so I came home after work and sat on the couch for a bit and then got up and tried to address some things I wanted to get done. Matt put up the tree before he left for Phoenix on Sunday (we finally said goodbye to buying real trees and got a Costco tree last year and I love it), and put the garland on the stair rail. So there are fun sparkly Christmas lights, but a fair bit of mess around them. I wanted to clear off the dining room table, get all the bags that are at the top of the stairs to the basement with all the Christmas shopping I've done so far and take them downstairs, maybe clean out the dresser by the front entrance because I like to stow small Christmas presents in there so they don't get lost, and maybe bring up a few Christmas decoration boxes.

So far I have cleaned off about a quarter of the dining room table, then cleaned out one drawer of the dresser and laid out all THAT stuff on the table, cooked some Asian noodles and stir-fried beef and broccoli (but not eaten any), and brought up zero boxes. And my knee and back hurt and I'm tired.

It's fine, right? I mean, I know it's fine. I don't really feel the Christmas panic I used to sometimes feel at the beginning of December. The kids aren't even home until the 19th. I want to get some decorations up in time to enjoy them for a bit, but I should do that in a way that does not make me feel exhausted and overwhelmed, because that is a prime example of Defeating One's Purpose. But goodness gracious is it STILL difficult to figure out a good balance between doing enough to make the season feel festive and magical (I was grocery shopping today listening to Christmas carols thinking "Does the kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you 'be of good cheer' REALLY sound like 'the most wonderful time of the year?) and not so much that by December 20th I'm collapsed in a heap of glitter, cookie sprinkles and scotch tape, snarling and brandishing a candy cane threateningly at anyone who approaches.

I am also sort of watching the last Mission Impossible movie, because Angus rented it yesterday on our account (from Charlotte) so I figured I should watch it while we have it, and also marvel at the weird-ass gifts technology has brought us. It's... loud. I didn't really get into the first few, but then when Angus would come home we often went to see one together and I gained more of an appreciation. We had been mocking how Tom Cruise kept coming on the screen before other movies talking about how cutting edge these movies were, and then I said to Angus one day "so I read the review for the new Mission Impossible movie and ... apparently it's really good, and pretty cutting edge." Right now I'm thinking maybe I only like MI movies when I see them with Angus?

I'm going to go eat some stir-fry while I ponder these various matters.

30 Days Has November

 Usually I try to end NaBloPoMo with something a little more auspicious, but I was at a cottage weekend and then went to see Wicked with a friend after getting little to no sleep last night, so I'm going to phone it in, and visit everyone and wrap up tomorrow. Had a fabulous time with the same girls I've been cottaging with every November for, um, wow, a lot of years. Here's a more detailed post with better photos from three years ago. It was a very women-of-a-certain-age gathering - we talked about who was divorced and having great sex with someone they met on Tinder and then we compared pill organizers. You know you're at that age when you wake up and the Amazon cart you can't remember if you pulled the trigger on contains joint health supplements and shampoo for thinning hair. I can't think of many people I would rather get old and cranky (-ier) with.

Thank-you to San for corralling us all this month, it was so much fun hanging with my regular blog people and meeting some new ones. It's December in two and a half hours and I'm hardly paralyzed with fear at all.