Only the sad. . .

Why is it that the awesome days, the cheerful days, the relaxing days are never the ones that motivate me to blog? I worry that when I look back on these days that it will seem as though all I did was barely keep from coming undone! There is a certain aspect to my days that is very stressful. There is a certain aspect to our lives that is so busy and so crazy- but all in all we have a lovely life, a lovely baby, and a lovely life.

However, since I am blogging. . . . This was the first year I can remember where we did not go up north for Christmas. Mike's schedule was very odd and very short this year and it made going up impossible for all of us. So we didn't go . . . and it was so nice to not make the car trip with the baby. It was so nice to not have to pack or plan for all the things Anya would need. It was so nice to make the house neater and get a chance to catch our breath rather than just rush-rush-rush. However, the combination of not going with the general irritation of spending every Christmas minute trying to make Anya and everyone else happy rather than do what I wanted to do put me in a FUNK. Like a "cry in front of Niel" funk. Like a "what the hell do I care" kind of funk. I have not been a very happy camper for the last few days. I desperately want a break, but I desperately do not want to leave Anya with anyone but Niel. I have a very hard time trusting people, but there is a new craziness to my illness.

Lately I have been having a lot of trouble not focusing on Anya's death. I can chock this up to Eddie, or life, or just general weirdness- but it is my reality. I feel that if I let up my focus for one minute, I may miss something and she will die. This is exhausting, but not untrue. She is moving so much now- crawling so much that she is constantly one step away from danger all them time. It also effects my willingness to let go. Daycare is paid for all through winter break but I have only been able to send her for a 1/2 day. I can get so much more done when she is not here, but I get anxious to send her. Death is something you can't control, and the way I have made peace with it is to make every memory mine. The memories I have can't be taken. They are mine- forever. I feel like if Anya is to die at any moment that I better spend every minute I have with her making her feel loved and creating those memories.

Fucked up, right? Seriously fucked up. I need to figure this out. I just don't know how. Anya could live to 103 or she could die tonight. How do I make peace with that? Especially if I am a factor in her death? What if I don't watch her closely or hurt her accidently? These are all real possibilities so I can't just dismiss them as bizarre. I know, more than anyone how real they are, but I do need to find a way to make a sort of peace with them so I can be more . . . more. . . well, me. I need to get back to me.