A little bit of sunshine

If you are particularly perceptive, you may have intuited recently that I have been unbearably cranky a little out of sorts. For about a week, I’ve been making a conscious effort to shake off this funk – but I was having a hell of a time doing it.

Then yesterday, I was driving through the drizzly, grey remnants of a freezing rain storm, and I felt a break in my internal cloud cover. It was as obvious as that; I just felt a little bit lighter, a little bit brighter, and I’ve been feeling better – more like myself – ever since.

So what made the difference? I think sometimes sadness just has to run its course, just like a virus. But, a few of these things might have helped:

I went to see the doctor yesterday about a spot on my arm. I’m fair skinned and freckled, and have had a lifelong love affair with the sun, and so one of the number one things I fear most in the deep dark part of the night is skin cancer. When I saw a rough patch with little pustules like I’d never seen before, I called for an appointment as soon as possible. You know what it was? Stress-induced eczema. (What is this stress thing to which you refer??) I’ve never had eczema before, nor has anyone in my family, to my knowledge. But I’ll take it over skin cancer any day!

I’ve been very hard on myself over flunking my French exam. I’ve spent the week cursing Trudeau and his bilingual utopian ideals every time I heard or read a word in French. Coincidentally, we had our last French class this week, and I was so demoralized I almost didn’t go – except I’m quite fond of the teacher, so I did. They had a nice little layout of snacks and goodies (that alone was worth the price of admission), and the big boss came around to hand out certificates of achievement for all the students, which was also a nice touch. The thing that restored my faith in myself, though, was a special award of distinction for the person who made the most improvement through the year – and they chose me. I was deeply touched and absurdly pleased.

And then of course, there are my adorable boys. They have been (searches for a word to replace ‘hellions’) a bit challenging lately. And for the love of all things holy, would it kill them to sleep beyond 5:30 in the morning? But last night we had one of those nights where I wonder why I find it so difficult to balance everything the rest of the time.

Simon, tearfully, having just crashed face-first into the carpet, in response to my question “What did you hurt?” : “I hurt… I hurt… I hurt … myself.”

Tristan, pushing Percy around a Lego track: “I am doing a very important job. This is important. Very very important. This is a very important task.” (pause) “It’s not so important.”

The wisdom of babes. He’s right – it’s not so important.

Related posts (automatically generated):

1. You think he learned this in school? We’re driving back from the Carp Farmer’s Market, a bag containing fudge and homemade salsa and fresh cukes and tomatoes at my feet. The boys are chattering in the back seat as we meander through the back roads bisecting rolling countryside. “Mom, I know how to say cow in French,”...
2. First kiss Although I truly love to travel, I’m glad that my job doesn’t require me to be away overnight very often. I’m off to a conference in Kingston for the next couple of days, and while I relish the idea of no cooking and no diaper changes and a bed I...
3. The big PR roll-up for September I get a lot of e-mail. A LOT! But that’s okay, I like it. I’m just not terrifically good at keeping up with it all. But if someone has taken the time to write to me, I often feel obligated to answer them, or at least share the information they...
4. Greeting cards, free shipping and 50 per cent to charity on Mothership Photo! I‘ve got all kinds of neat stuff going on over at my Etsy shop for Mothership Photography! I finalized my first sale this week — cool, eh? To celebrate, I’ve got new products and a couple of special deals. First, in addition to fine art prints, I’ve also created greeting...
5. Another twist of the knife I just spent 30 minutes transcribing the infamous letter, delivered surreptitiously under cover of night, to share with you. (No, I haven’t posted it yet. I’m still pondering how wise a decision it is to publish it.) The whole time, I could hear the boys above in their beds, playing...