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Snapshot 12.20.16

December 20, 2016 by Carrie Anne 4 Comments


what i'm up to–It feels like it’s been an age since the election, and my last post. I’m still crying about it. I don’t if I will ever stop. Thanks to everyone who sent me a little note (or even an email!) about my absence. I truly appreciate it. Many times I’ve pulled my chair up to the keyboard but I just couldn’t get very far. In addition to the turmoil and stress in the country, my little world has been rocked further by health problems in myself and my immediate family. This year has been incredibly tough, and I know that many of you feel the same way. Sad stuff aside, let’s talk about what I’ve been up to!

–Anthony has been on two week-long work trips across the country this month, further making any blog updating even more challenging. He’s hadn’t been in an airplane since a trip he took to Guatemala before he met me. It’s been a learning experience for both of us, and I feel pretty battle-hardened in the single parenting-while-ill arena.

–Earlier this month I was unintentionally live for two and a half minutes on Facebook. Join me next week for my unintentional podcast! This isn’t the sort of thing that typically happens to people, unless you are me. This is the sort of ridiculous thing that happens to me all the time. I apologize for anyone watching and wondering when something exciting is going to happen. Spoiler alert! It never does! Though I do sing an improvised rain song to Elias, as it was raining.

–We’ve hosted an annual Christmas party for friends for years now, and I thought that with Anthony’s travelling schedule and my illness and the general terribleness of the year that we might have to skip it. At the eleventh hour, though, after talking to my friend Laurel, I decided that getting together was probably something we all really needed. I’m glad I did it, as this year we had the most epic Thrift Store Gore Gift Exchange ever, plus we somehow found a 7+ minute version of Last Christmas to sing via karaoke.

–I’m on a short run of steroids again to deal with a respiratory problem that turned chronic. Being on steroids is like riding on a jerky, out-of-control park swing. Swing goes up, and I love steroids! I have energy to keep up, even when plans change! Swing goes down, and I hate steroids! I’m moody and anxious and sad and sleepless! It’s exhausting without the possibility of rest. Thankfully I’m just on it for the short term this time.

–Isobel told me she wants to give all the cats Christmas presents. Specifically, she wants to get our cats a kitten.

–I knew ordering an inexpensive Christmas tree from China was risky, but I needed a tree I could afford that could get here in time for the last-minute Christmas party. You guys, take a look at our “full size”, “6 foot tall” Christmas tree. Even my cat is underwhelmed. It’s all decorated now and I think it looks lovely, but I still giggle to myself every now and then when I walk past.

–I was playing Goat Simulator with Isobel when she suddenly says “WARNING: this game is extreme amounts of fun”

–Someone found a migrating tarantula at my MIL’s school, if you want to have nightmares forever.

–One night Isobel rolled over and, in her sleep, clearly said, “Toys.”

–Elias’ two favorite phrases are, “No way, pants!” and, “I’m cray cray!” (I guess I may have said he was cray cray once or twice.)

–Isobel: “Kingston, you can call me any time! But not like literally any time.”

–Isobel: I want a job at See’s Candy! //Me: You can’t just eat the candy, you know. //Isobel: *looks offended*.

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IT STARTED OUT WITH A KISS HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS.

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Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Peen.

Atlas rolled around in some chalk and now he’s a magical rainbow floofer.

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Filed Under: Scrapbook Tagged With: chronic illness, chronic life, Crohn's Disease, Domesticity, Family, family life, Home, Home Life, Snapshot, Weekly, What I'm Up To

Poem: It’s Morning

November 17, 2016 by Carrie Anne Leave a Comment

It’s morning.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Wake up. Do it again.

The daily struggle.

The trumpet of your enduring battle

calls to you.

Dig the last remaining bits

of hope

from the dirt

under your fingernails.

Get up.

Do it again.

 

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Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: poem, Poetry, writing

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