Stitches, Spots & Death Threats

So, how do you know that I am just a regular person and not some seemingly perfect (actual perfect ones don't exist) blogger that posts all these amazing and beautiful and timely projects?  Well, the main one that comes to mind right now is that I am still posting about Christmas even though January is mostly over.  That probably violates a lot of unwritten blogging rules.  AND, I only manage to throw in a beautiful project every once in a great while.  All the rest of my posts are mostly just me trying to keep a handle on my life.  So I refuse to feel bad.  And I will stop comparing my little corner of the blogoshpere with those mega monster blogs with all the amazing and beautiful and timely projects.  Which I love.  And hate.  They inspire me and drive me crazy, all at the same time.

Besides, those bloggers probably never get thinly veiled death threats from their extended family members, all under the guise of Christmas popcorn.  Seriously, would you dare to eat this popcorn?

And I'd be willing to bet their husbands don't slice open their fingers while trying to split wood with a tomahawk.  And then patch themselves up and run to an urgent care center where the doc doesn't even bother to clean the wound before stitching it up.

Maybe their kids get sick just in time for major holidays, but they probably don't take pictures of them while they are feeling so miserable and unable to move off the sofa.

And when Christmas morning rolls around and the plague-like virus has made itchy red spots appear only on their faces, hands and feet, they probably don't carry on like nothing's wrong.  And they probably would have noticed earlier that a certain daughter was scratching those itchy red spots which appeared on her face and they were spreading and scabbing and looking generally pretty horrible.

And yes, I purposely chose a photo that made those horrible spots look much more subtle than they actually were.  Believe me when I say that there was nothing subtle about them.

In my defense, since my children didn't seem to be critically ill and the horrible spots seemed to be the last stage of the plague, I totally stand by my decision not to drag them to the same urgent care center and sit there for half of Christmas Eve.  We have taken 5 people there since Thanksgiving and I hope to never see the inside of that place again.

But, since this blog is about trying to find the melody in the midst of the cacophony of my life, and not about how I measure up with the rest of the blogging world, I will end with a photo that simply makes me happy.  In the middle of all of our holiday celebrating and finger slicing and plagues, baby B had the opportunity to meet her grandmother for the first time.  Fortunately for them both, her visit was timed to perfectly coincide with B's remission from the plague virus.  Strep came before, fever and spots came after.  But the week Grandma was here, B was feeling great.  

And they became fast friends.  It was so fun to watch their interactions.  How delighted Grandma was with B--with her smiles and her antics and how much she loves to figure things out. I probably could not have captured that feeling if I had set about trying to.  But somehow, it showed up all on its own.  And that is why this photo makes me happy.  And why I share it on my oh-so-less-than-perfect blog that reflects my oh-so-less-than perfect life which is beautiful but hardly ever timely.