Twelve days since my last post? Seriously? My only excuse is that I am caught in some winter doldrums which are preventing me from wanting to do anything but sit around wrapped in a blanket drinking hot tea. I'm interspersing all that activity with frequent naps, of course.
The cruise was wonderful, and I will be posting more about that on my other blog shortly. I have to be honest and admit that it has been difficult to re-acclimate myself to the lack of 24-hour buffets and tropical drinks around here.
There is a lot going on in our household, some good and some bad, but all of it stressful. While I was gone, Thomas came down with a stomach bug during the night at school. It freaked him out pretty badly to be sick away from home, and the experience has resulted in a terrible bout of homesickness. Yesterday we received a letter from him, the most pitiful epistle you have ever read, begging us to let him go back to being a day student. I don't know whether I ever mentioned how he begged to board for over a year, how he swore that he would not change his mind, or how Ron and I agonized over the decision and the money involved. We are sticking to our guns and hoping that spending weekends at home will hope him get over this, but oh my soul it is heartbreaking to drop him off sobbing his heart out.
Also it seems that after eleven years of staying home with the children, it may be time for me to go back to work. (Now it's me who's sobbing.) Coincidentally, there may be an appropriate position available in Ron's department within the next few weeks. I don't have any real objection to contributing to our family's finances, but those long years out of the workforce bring up all sorts of insecurities in me. Do I still have anything to offer potential employers? Do I still possess two brain cells to rub together? And most importantly, what in the name of heaven would I wear?
Lastly, for now anyway, I learned today that I need to have a biopsy done on my thyroid. The lovely young (why are all the doctors I've seen recently so stinking young?) endocrinologist spent an alarmingly long time describing what it would mean if my nodules turn out to be cancerous. I am not particularly worried, since I have been told at various times that I probably had a pituitary tumor, a brain tumor, and a pulmonary embolism, and I didn't in fact have any of those. Am I being punk'd by the medical profession? Nonetheless, I am predictably unenthusiastic about having needles stuck into my throat.
But hey! I am thrilled about the amount of awesome TV that's been available the past couple of weeks.