Advil, I love you

Time does fly. Nearly May. Days and days since a post.

Family flew through town last weekend (too short!). And Eden's been walking around our little neighborhood pointing to the bushes, the hot tub, the bouncy ride-on horse saying "I do that with my cousins." The house was full -- we feasted on pad woo sen, went out for dutch babies, poked around the antique market, went to Catalina (some of us -- Silas had his first real sleepover) and got sick.

Fortunately, I think they got out unscathed, but I've come down with a weird disease that involves my going about life as usual and then suddenly being sapped of all energy and achy.

It's been sobering to feel weak like this. And to feel so powerless, drained -- I haven't cooked, haven't gone to the store, got Silas to school 40 minutes late. I'm once again being forced to slow down (this seems to be a theme). So I am, inching through the days, and thinking a lot about Ben's mom who feels weak like this (much more than this) all the time. A brief glimpse of perspective.

Ben's been away and advil has been a miracle. Advil and hanging out at home. And sesame street (the whole full glorious hour of it). And my sister who ended up coming over-town yesterday because of strong winds, who bought me soup and groceries. And friend who offered to make me dinner tomorrow night (!) without even knowing how much I needed it. And a friend who offered to have me over to eat with her family even though she just birthed her fourth child less than a week ago! (fortunately, we both realized that my coming would make me a terrible friend, but she really was serious when she asked).

My body is telling me to stop typing and to sleep, so I must. A LOUD yelling cat in heat is now standing somewhere outside my window that doesn't close all the way. Awesome. And so I go, bed piled with quilts, bedside table with books, cough syrup, and glasses of water. Goodnight.