My Village

Oh . . . wait . . . I know I'm forgetting something . . . something I should do at least three times a week . . . oh yes. I have a blog. Hello, poor neglected bloggy friends. After several weeks of debate, I've give my gallbladder its notice, and it is being evicted on Friday. As a result, my crazy is in overdrive, and I'm convinced that Something Terrible will happen. Thus, welcome to the first in a series of maudlin posts wherein I weep like a Senior at graduation about the fact that I may never see you again. And, OF COURSE, I know that is not true. However, tell that to google (a little tip: NEVER google Gallbladder Surgery Risks). But my wise mind knows that I have no room for complaining, so onto the gushing.

I feel guilty moaning about my gallbladder because so many of my friends are hurting now. In fact, MoxieClean is having surgery today, and its a far more serious situation than mine. Her cleaning blog is still in its infancy, but I've known her IRL for almost four years now. She's loud and hilarious, and she makes me believe that I can tame the jungle that is my house, no maid required (Oh, lottery winnings, where fore art thou?). 

Katie from Mendy Lady (picture above) is also having a rough month. May brought suckage, not flowers to her house. A year ago, she and I were two names on a list serve passing on the digest in the night. What difference a year makes! Her beautiful daughter will turn one this weekend (giving me reason not to languish in bed milking my recovery for all the novels I can), and a week after that, I can celebrate the anniversary of meeting one of the most special people in my life. She's an honorary Auntie to Tavy, and she makes my life infintely more sane.

Also a year ago (May is pretty significant in the history of my life), I met D and her son S, and they too have become an important part of my life. Oregon feels a little greyer each time they abandon us for the cool kids of California. Last Spring I also started going to my mothering meet-up group, and I have met so many amazing ladies through the group, many of whom I now consider my closest friends. I discovered our local babywearing group (and a new addiction), and I met even more like minded mamas. And before the meet-up group, I still had my knitting friends, writing friends, and neighbors. I had this blog and all of you who give me an audience for my ramblings. Prior to having Tavy, Freak and I dreamed of moving to a particular small quaint town (the same one we drove to avoid our large hospital's 60% C-section rate). Now, I can't think about living anywhere else.

It's the fifth anniversary (see what I mean about May!) of closing on this house, and the sixth anniversary of meeting Freak, and I've now been a professor longer than I was a practing attorney. My life is filled with the sort of richness I spent the first 3/4 of my life longing for. In the day to day stress of juggling motherhood and toddlerhood and professorhood and would-be writerhood, I often lose sight of just how lucky I am. I spent hours lamenting how I need in-town grandparents to make my life easier, but I fail to see the village all around me. Without you, I would be mothering from a cave, writing in the dark, and talking to myself.

Comments

[Katie B.]

*sniffle* That's not just the cold, y'know! Seriously, tears in my eyes here.

You are a fantastic friend, and I am honored to call you that. This year would have been so very much less without you! And this month would have sucked so much more, too. XD

Oh yes, the other ladies you mention are pretty spiff, too. :)

[debe]

you and your gang were the first people we met in oregon, and i'm so thankful for that!

i am sending you a billion well-wishes for tomorrow. i am... um, a lazy, lazy, puking machine lately, but seriously, if you need anything, let me know!