I think that I might be even more pheromone-driven than most people. I truly love to just sit quietly with my husband and/or my daughter and breathe them in. In fact, when I'm mad or freaked out, if I can just put my head on Don's shoulder and breathe in his scent - right at his neck - it calms me down instantly. If I'm sitting or lying next to Lily Ruth, I am almost physically compelled to draw her in closer and bury my nose in her hair.
I completely understand if I've just lost you.
A friend asked me what Lily Ruth's verbal skills were like right around her first birthday, so I pulled up my blog to find out. Am I the only one who reads their own blog? Anyway - in reading my older posts, I began to feel as though I've lost my voice. The woman who wrote here a year ago was much funnier. My posts feel like lead weights to me these days. They used to feel like balloons.
At any rate, if you see my voice around, let it know that I'm looking for it.
In a concerted effort to actively celebrate more things in our life, I created a table for my Mama's birthday. It felt really good to not just say 'I love you' and cook her a meal, but to put effort into our surroundings for the meal.
In case you can't tell, my Mama likes bright colors :-P Lily Ruth and I had a ball picking out decorations at a local store that specializes in Mexican imports including folk art, traditional decorations pottery and party supplies. Big fun!
I must have said it several times in an effort to keep her focused during our shopping trip, because after we left, Lily Ruth kept telling me 'I just need a couple more things.'
Lily Ruth had her first truly awful nightmare. She woke up screaming around 4 am on Tuesday. She said that there was a man. We brought her in with us. She calmed down quickly, and went back to sleep.
She has repeated the tale of the man under her pillow who is going to get her to every adult that she has had contact with since then. She's really worried about it. We've talked it through more times than I can count. Daddy & I have both told her that there is no man. That it was a dream - a picture in her head - and not real. We've told her that she is safe. Mama and Daddy and Keely and Bing all keep her safe. No one is going to get her. We've shown her that there is no man under her pillow, under her bed (it's on the floor) or anywhere near her bed, but she remains unconvinced.
Yesterday, she napped next to her bed because she didn't want to sleep on her pillow :-(
Last night was miserable. She threw an epic screaming fit when Don tried to put her to bed. A few hours later (!!!!!), I was able to talk her into returning to her room and getting into bed, but it was almost midnight before she fell asleep.
Today, she still wanted to talk about it almost constantly, and I am out of ways to comfort her. I feel like a broken record, but I just keep telling her that she's safe and loved.
I soooooooooooooo wish that I knew how to fix this!
Continuing the celebratory theme, it's Don's birthday, and I bought him a present. While this might not sound like a big deal to you, it is to us. We had fallen out of the habit of celebrating. Other than (wonderful) family dinners, we had allowed birthdays to go unremarked. No gifts to each other. No decorations. No parties.
Explaining how this came about is a long and painful story. I may write it out, but not here. As part of our healing process, we are returning to real, joyful celebration as the norm, not the exception. Toward that end, I purchased a nice gift for the man that I love, and I'm throwing him a party. It feels wildly extravagant, and I'm going to be working my butt off between now and the party in order to make it all happen, but you only turn 40 once. It really does need to be celebrated.
What's going on in YOUR brain these days?