Mum was the word

a typical day of laundry, mid-pediculosis. Looks quaint in sepia tone, no?

It’s like I’m waking up from a long sleep.  Why, hello there. Hello! The word sounds funny having not used it for so long. Hello! Hello! Hello!

Yeah, weird.

I got a lovely note from Sarah at Mum in Bloom, saying kindly, “where are you? I hope you are okay.”  Thank you, Sarah. Thank you for asking. I am. Everyone here is, knock wood. Here are a few of the factors in my vaporization from the interweb:

1. Big deadlines. Been writing lots. Lots of articles, press releases. The biggest news is that one project is a book manuscript, a co-authorship with Beth Bader, who writes over at Expat Chef. Food and families, families and food. Recipes, tips, resources, and a tad or irreverance.  It’ll be out in like a million years. But our own deadline is November 1. For many, many months, this seemed far away. I was able to say things like, “oh, it won’t take long to complete.” “We’ve got so much of the information already.” Then, around the time I came back from carpentry camp, the deadline became real. Surprise: it takes plenty long to complete a book. It’s not complete yet, but I see a light, which means I am in a tunnel, and I am nearly through.

2. Small people. Weeks of no child-care at the end of the summer. No camps, no school, just kids, bored and restless. I literally did a victory dance on the first day of school.

3. Small creatures. I should have known not to test fate with that victory dance. My karmic payback came on the second day of school, when we got a phone call from another 2nd grade family. This was a phone call no one wants: head lice. We were not spared. Just like that: weeks gone. Laundry, so much laundry. Non-stop vacuuming. Nose hairs being burned off by pediculicides, which is just a fancy way of saying hideous toxic chemicals.

My face in Merrie’s wild curly hair, pulling out all signs of pediculosis, which is just a fancy way of saying bugs. Did you know that lice reproduce sexually? Yes, tiny bugs were gettin’ busy, makin’ whoopie, beddin’ down, knockin’ boots, right there among the shafts of my daughter’s hair. I tried not to think about it too much.

Did I mention I was supposed to be finishing a book manuscript during this time?

4. Big pain. I sat hunched over my daughters hair and I sat hunched over the computer. For a solid month, I sat. I sat so much that I threw my back out. Yes, I am possibly the only person to ever throw her back out from sitting. Yes, that is humiliating. Don’t pity me, though: in my younger, healthier days, I once mocked a man who threw his back out while putting on socks. There’s that karmic payback again.

my new chair

5. Big ball. Physical therapy, yoga, long walks, stretching, bike rides, one of those giant medicine balls to sit on while I write. I am sitting on it now. No, I do not feel silly. Yes, that is only because you cannot actually see me. Yes, sometimes I bounce up and down on it like a small child.

That’s where I’ve been. May we just pretend it’s two months ago, please?

Hello.