Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Drop the shovel...

Sometimes you just watch your friends shovel themselves into the hole that they are in.  You can see the complaints coming ahead "Help! I'm stuck in a hole!" but you know if you say, "Hey, if you keep digging, you might find yourself in a hole shortly" they won't stop.  And they always look surprised to find themselves in the hole.

Sometimes they'll get a rope and some help out of the hole, but often they just begin to start making steps out of the hole when, oops, there goes that damn shovel again.  There they go digging like they're in that old 80s video game of Dig Dug.  And there, again, is that surprise: "What? How did this happen? How did I get in this hole?"

So, next time you find yourself in a hole, and wondering how you got there, check your own hands: are you holding a shovel? Often the answer to how to get yourself out of a hole is to begin by stopping digging.

Drop the shovel.  And just because you begin to get your head out of the hole and think you're out of it, don't pick up the shovel again.  Look around.  Is your whole body out of the hole? No? And why do you need that shovel anyway?  Where exactly do you think you'll go?

This happens with relationships, with money, with possessions, with dreams, with all sorts of scenarios.  We find ourselves in holes.  It's natural.  It happens sometimes.  But for goodness' sakes, just drop the shovel.  And drop the surprise.  And, um, the whining.  Yeah.  That too.  And find a way to work your way out of the hole.  Chances are you didn't get in the hole overnight - it takes a long time to dig a hole deep enough for us to fit in - and chance are, then, you won't get out overnight.  Do the hard work.

Teddy Bear Nursemaid

So, I've been in Canada about a month and a half, and my poor sweet baby has had two incidences of feeling sick enough or bad enough to stay home from work.  So I've had two opportunities to play nurse-maid to my sick baby.

And I must say I've done a smashing job of it.  I've discovered that the job is quite easy.

Let's face it: what we need most when we are sick is rest.  Sleep is the best way to allow our body time and opportunity to heal itself.  So, sleep is what my baby gets.  The first time she was sick - battling strep throat, she slept about 21 hours each day for about three days.  I did what any good partner would do.  I stayed with her while she slept.  And, um, slept myself.  It was, after all, a good way to allow my immune system to stay strong to avoid contracting the strep throat myself.  (I could post a gruesome picture showing the infection growing on her tonsil, but I imagine she'd rather I didn't...)

Today (er, yesterday?) my baby had a horrible headache when she woke, and I did what any good girlfriend would do.  I stayed in bed with her and slept while she slept it off herself.

Unfortunately, my friend insomnia decided THIS time to come visit me this evening.  He thought I'd had enough rest and sleep in the last few days, particularly considering I had gone to bed early the night before myself.  And so she sleeps now, in the middle of the night like she's supposed to, and I return to my old craft of blogging.  The lost art.

Because I am the teddy bear nursemaid.  I heal by allowing you (well, not YOU, but, the sick person who happens to be my partner) snuggle up to me like I'm your teddy bear, while we let Mother Nature do the hard work.  Who needs chicken soup (particularly when your baby IS a chicken, and there's all sorts of cannibalism questions there) when you can have rest and snuggling?

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Old Friends...

It is natural that when you move, you may lose a few friends along the way.  There are some friendships that require your presence to be maintained.  And some friendships that survive the distance, and which may also survive infrequent contact.  Time, often, is the only way to tell which friendships will be which.

Some old friends, though, frankly you are glad to be away from, and you hope they'll lose your number, your e-mail, and forget how to contact you.

Tonight, one of my old friends, nonetheless, whom I was hoping to leave behind has seemed to catch up with me.  Yes, that's right, my old friend insomnia.... My how I've missed you.  NOT.  You could have stayed back in the U.S.  Nothing here in Canada requires your presence.  You may move on, my friend, and return from whence you came.

Insomnia when you're single and when you live alone looks different than insomnia when you're with someone else.  First of all, when you're alone, and you toss and turn in your bed, at least you aren't keeping someone else awake.  Second of all, then, you can stay in your own bed while you wait for insomnia to be on its way.

Sharing a bed with someone else means that there is a moment when you finally decide you can't be helping her sleep, and if you're going to continue to be wide awake, well, then, you might want to be nice to the one you sleep with and go some place else to be wide awake.  Trouble is, of course, is half the time they realize you've gotten up and left, and you may not have solved anything.  Except, of course, you can blog in peace without worrying about the tip tap of fingers on the keyboard waking them further and making them wonder when the hell you're gonna fall asleep so they can too.

In the time that has passed while trying to fall asleep, my mind has wandered in many different directions.  But I will spare you those wanderings.

Suffice to say, my old friend, I wish you'd stayed back in the old place.  And with that, my eyes begin to droop...