Tilted Head Off the Charts

Abby had her 9 month appointment today. She is absolutely great. We crack each other up. She is 70th percentile in weight, 90th in height, and off the charts on head circumference (like her mommy). It's all those brains, of course. She was highly peeved by the vaccination, but got over it immediately and even forgave the nurse -- she is such a jolly old elf. Smile at her, and she's yours. I had so much fun with her, I didn't want to take her back to day care. As luck would have it, she made up for missing her morning nap by falling asleep on the way back in the car. I knew she needed the sleep, so I sat with her in the parking lot. I worked on my blackberry while she snored a little, all tilted head and squidgy toes, and the cool breeze came in the open window and it was total peace. Well, total except for the blackberry. Eventually, I got hungry. I so didn't want to wake her. I ended up driving to a drive-thru (about 4 miles; keep in mind that I was sitting in the day care parking lot, which is within walking distance from my home) just so she could sleep longer. She woke up when we arrived, once again, back in the parking lot, and she beamed at me. She was annoyed and rudely surprised that I intended to leave again, however. I hope she'll forgive me.

I haven't talked lately about my physical condition. I am probably too distracted by presidential politics, and that's probably a good sign.

Anyway, lately I've been feeling pretty good. My back hurts, but not as much. We spent a week at the lake, and the bed was really amazing. I felt the difference in my back immediately upon awakening the first day. Since then, I have done more research and I think what we need is a latex mattress. I've got my finger on the trigger of buying one -- I'll let you know.

Unfortunately, we then spent last weekend at the beach house, with a horrifically crummy mattress, and my back told me about that, too. Luckily, my myopic internist finally gave me some muscle relaxants, which help alleviate the huge back pain. Now it's more like somewhere between 'small' and 'large', without 'huge' figuring in (except, sometimes, at night right before bed and before the medicine starts up).

I've been holding Abby in my arms more. Last night, I even sort-of danced with her (to Sugarland), bopping up and down in one place with her in my arms. What a great feeling. And good exercise! My left hand is still gone. My balance is still not great, and my stamina is nowheresville. I am weak. But I feel like maybe, just maybe, most of this can be addressed by working hard, if slowly, through exercise and perseverance. I guess that's part of the mystery around neurological muscle dysfunction, though -- if there is something neurologically wrong in there, it might make my muscles weak, giving me the impression that I can work out and get stronger, while there's really nothing I can do. In my case, though, I am, in fact, demonstrably stronger now than I was, say, when I started physical therapy. It may be that I'm still nowhere close to where I want to be, but I am starting to believe that I can make it happen, that my body has not forsaken me. I'm going soon to see another neurologist, Richard Restak. He is supposedly a rock star, and I was referred to him by another of my doctors, to give me a second neurological opinion. As long as he doesn't want to stick any needles into me (especially electrified ones), I'm all for it.

Next week I have an endoscopy and colonoscopy scheduled. Hip, hip, hooray. Checking for ulcers and God knows what else. I'm also taking some new pill for weird womanly cycles -- again, who knows what's going on. Probably nothing. I had a biopsy, and it was normal. Whatever.

I need a meditation practice. I am more sure of that than ever. I know how to meditate -- I'm even pretty good at it -- but I'm not good at getting myself to do it. Having the baby and all the other aspects of our crazy life just makes it that much easier to find an excuse.

I've been thinking about it this way, though: before I was married, I felt like all my time was taken up. No time for anything. Then I got married, and made time for my husband and his family and a wedding and a new house. I was sure my time was taken up, no time for anything. Then I got pregnant, and found time to squeeze a baby in there. Surely now, when I feel like all my time is taken up, there is actually still plenty of time to meditate. It's an illusion, this sense of no-time-available. All that's required is to say 'no', sometimes. Especially to TV.

And thus far, all I've done is think about it. I'm going to stop writing right now, and go meditate. (p.s. I lied. I went back up and edited this a bit. Now I'm going to stop, and go meditate.)