Hey, look! I'm updating!

I brought Aaron's laptop with me to my therapy appointment (I would've brought mine, but the hinge is broken, so it's now, practically speaking, a desktop) so that I could finally do some blogging from the cozy coffeehouse where I park myself for an hour or so after my appointments. And - voila! I'm telecommuting!

Things at home have been too hectic lately for me to do much updating from there; my attention has been too divided to focus on completing sentences, much less paragraphs. Thus it was that I overlooked my blog's one-year anniversary last week, the day after Noah's second birthday. I've been rereading my posts from last September, and thinking: How much more optimistic things seem now! How much difference a year - and powerful prescription antidepressants - can make! I blinkblinkblink and suddenly my toddler is running and climbing and chasing his brother, my three-year-old diaper-wearer is a four-year-old preschooler, my husband is finally stable in his career and making a realistic salary.

And then there's me. I'm still here. I'm still here. I have mood-altering drugs and intense psychotherapy to thank for this. I made it another year.

I cannot stress this enough. I made it another year.

At the risk of melodramatics: I still count time by Septembers. There's the ingrained schoolyear-ness of it, sure, but for me, Septembers bear enough time-marking events to make them worth starting a new calendar for. My mom died in a September, for instance: September 13, 1991. Sixteen years ago, now. That seems so outrageous - how can I have lived longer without her than with her?? But I haven't, of course; have you tried living without your mother? She's still there, despite her death - still shaping and influencing and guiding my path, by having birthed me, by having mothered me for ten years. I do still miss her, quite a lot.

Other noteworthy Septembers: 2002 - the year I found out I was pregnant. Pregnant. The jaw-dropping, world-invertingness of it - quite a shock, especially for someone presumed infertile. Until proven otherwise, I guess. 2005 - the year Noah was born, and the year that we packed up our home in Virginia and moved five states away to Aaron's parents' basement - moved home to family and midwestern winters and unemployment. Not to mention all those other Septembers managing retail stores, suffocating in preChristmas shipments that had to ship from the vendors right now, but couldn't go out on the sales floor for another month - the feeling of being buried alive. And all those Septembers of new school years, new classmates, new teachers, new dread. September - placeholder of doom. Harbinger of Daylight Savings Time, of the tiny deaths of leaves and grass and bumblebees, of winter's looming darkness and slushiness and high heating bills.

September, with its sense of utter impendingness.

And yet: This month, I'm coping okay. (Again, I'll mention: the drugs. Oh, those wonderful drugs!) This month, enough impending good seems poised to drop on us, maybe I can overlook the pessimism skulking in corners. This month, I'm sure I've mentioned, I signed up to be a (ahem) Creative Memories Independent Memory-keeping Consultant, and - I like it. (I'll really have to write more about this later - it's not as dull as it has the potential to be, honest.) Honestly, it may just be the cult-ness of being an Independent Anything Consultant, but I truly think this is a Good Thing, the doorway to many Good Things - additional income being only one of those. I really do feel optimistic about this.

Also, Aaron just got a raise at work - enough of a raise for us to finally feel like he's being adequately compensated for his position, and - not least of all - that we're maybe going to be able to pay some of those, whaddayacallem, bills. And!, he's on the cusp of starting a new position at work, one that'll bring not only another pay increase but also a lot more opportunity for creativity, and a lot more job satisfaction. (Amazing, how two years ago we were homeless and jobless, trusting God to lead out family where He wanted us - and He did. I'm not sure I've quite grasped this yet.)

And then there's David's preschool, which he started last week. I didn't write about how agonizing it was to decide whether to send him to preschool, or to school at all - I put a lot of energy into trying to convince myself to homeschool him, and I felt a lot of pressure (mostly from myself) that schooling him myself would be better for him, would be The Right Thing To Do. (Do you know how hard it is, as a parent, to figure out what's The Right Thing To Do for your kids?? Holy kamoley, is it daunting. I've always been an exceptionally good second-guesser, but not until I had kids did I realize just how much more you can second-guess your decisions when there's a helpless little person's entire future happiness at stake.) In the end, I decided to give preschool - and, eventually, school - a try; we'll keep evaluating as we go (more second-guessing!) and change course later, if we need to. I sum this decision up in a sentence or two, but I really can't overemphasize how hard it was for me to get to that point. And the conclusion is: He loves it! He has been perkier, more talkative, more cooperative in the past two weeks than I think he's ever been, ever. Amazing - for once in my parenting career, I may have done the right thing for my child! Years from now, I'm going to pin a note to his jacket for him to wear to his first appointment with his therapist: Whatever he tells you, I didn't screw up EVERYthing.

Goodness, I had so much I wanted to talk about, and none of it ended up in this post. But I suppose it can wait; NaBloPoMo is just six weeks away! (Who's with me this year?)