It started a few weeks ago, and then kept snowballing. It kind of all culminated by the end of last week when I got a flat tire during my lunch break, and was stuck downtown until someone could come and get me. At least I had the good sense to get my Dairy Queen blizzard first or else some pregnancy hormones might have gone crazy. Is my flat tire a big deal? Nope. Not at all. Those things happen. But after watching and hearing and feeling for my friends through all of their BS the last couple of weeks, it was really the last thing that I was hoping for.
And I think everyone knows sometimes your head space just gets too full of CRAP, and then everything seems like a huge deal. Sometimes they are, but most of the time it's just stuff getting blown out of proportion. That was me this weekend. It went from a sad week to a busy weekend. Last night I was on the couch, watching the clock for eight to roll around so I could feel ok about going to bed.
Also, I am a fixer. I don't like to watch my friends hurt or be sad or mad or confused. I want to do something MAGIC, and make it all go away. When I can't it sometimes makes me feel like a bad friend. Which is DUMB. And I know this. But still, it happens. So I spent the last few weeks not being able to fix things, and to watch one thing after another happen to people I love. I don't like that part of life. I like fairies, and Christmas trees, and presents, and chocolate factories, and Waiting For Guffman. I want everyone's life to be peaches and cream all the time. Absurd? Absolutely. Doesn't change the fact that I want it that way.
Last week, I got a reminder that bad stuff happens but so does good stuff. Really good stuff. Some friends from church were expecting their second son. Ultrasounds and tests had shown that he would be missing his corpus collosum - the clump of stuff that connects one side of the brain to the other. They had met with doctors, specialists, etc to help them prepare for the arrival of their son, and what to expect for his life. The little man arrived last Thursday. Wholly complete with a brain ready to learn how to scream his little head off. I quite frankly don't care if you don't believe in miracles. That was one. Plain and simple. God said, let there be brains, and there was. The end.
Before I was pregnant, I would have been ecstatic for my friends. Happy that their little guy can just starting scooting and pooping along in life. Now, I am still all of those things. Maybe even more so. It makes me think about the Newton, and how I am grateful that we are healthy (so far, anyway). That I know my friends are dealing with horrible things in their lives, but they are strong women. They will survive. Miracles still happen. Flowers can make any day better. And November is right around the corner. New month, new days, new good stuff to happen.