Family Misc.

We're back, finally, from our Michigan trip. Which was two weeks long. Enough time to immerse ourselves in our extended family's life, but not so much (hopefully) that people tired of us and started muttering that they wished we'd go.

Traveling with the kids was a relative breeze, compared to how it used to be. The hardest thing by far, about taking them places, is getting home. The part where I want to collapse on the couch and go through mail and eat and then fall asleep.

That's not possible, of course, because there are little ones to feed and to calm and to put to bed.

***

I left Harbor Springs with a lump in my throat. I felt like a snake that'd swallowed an egg as we drove toward the airport. Not that I want to live there again. I don't. I adore Seattle, where people don't wear coral pants dotted with tiny lobsters while taking themselves completely seriously, where I can put colored streaks in my hair without suffering many double takes from passersby and where there are always new alleys and doorways to discover.

But I do miss my parents and my sister. That part about being here is hard and, I imagine, always will be.

***

Kitty Cat's appointment with a gastroenterologist is tomorrow. I feel a little like a dead man walking. As in, I'm quite sure the specialist will instruct us that it's time to go gluten free. Which also means that our lives could drastically change in 24 hours.

I made chocolate chip pancakes this morning. I'll do cookies, brownies, cake...whatever she wants tonight.

I'm trying not to think about it too much, because if I do, my stomach will start cramping and my breath will come far too fast.

***

I've been ruminating a lot about marriage. What's good about it. What's not. How well I fit into the institution. How I can be sweet and appreciative and, within the same day, turn sulky and bitter. How tension often seems to be present and how confusing it is to know if this is something inherent in the dynamic between J. and I, or if it's something that I, alone, perceive. Maybe even generate.

Going to Michigan is always its own lesson in marriage. My mom and dad have been married 42 years. I watch them a lot, listen to them, try to figure out what makes it work. My mom often tells stories about the rockier first years, about how they stuck with it, about how wonderful it is now, like a creamy dessert after a particularly dry and chewy first few courses.

Yeah, yeah, I say. I know. I know. No one said it'd be easy.

***

My dad used to be into photography. He had a Nikon SLR and his own darkroom, where he sometimes let me help dip thick paper into shallow trays of chemicals and watch images emerge.

Here's a shot of me he took when I was about Kitty Cat's age (four).

It hung on the wall for a long time during my childhood. Then it was replaced by cows. But different versions of it float around my parents' house. I brought this one back with me. (My mom knitted that sweater.)

And now here I am, all jaded and pink haired and married and knitting, too, and developing my own interest in photography and pining and writing and getting ready to go to Chicago for a blogger's conference and drinking lots of coffee (albeit, decaf) and wine and wishing I could just let things be.

Comments

[kcinnova]

You are not just a photographer and a writer, you are also a thinker -- and thinkers mull over these things.

[Lisa]

I have been lurking and reading your blog for quite some time now--very enjoyable and a nice change of pace from the adoption blogs that I normally read (I too am in the adoption line hence the pathological reading of adoption blogs...). I live in Chicago and was curious about the blogger's conference. Can you tell me a bit about it? I've been blogging for a little over a year and have found it quite theraputic to say the least. Would be interested in the blogger's conference if you can share.
Cheers,
Lisa

[Holly]

Good luck tomorrow.

[Laura from the Chi]

Angie -- you're gonna be in my town! Have fun here in the Windy City.

I know about that lump in the throat. Every time I leave my small Kentucky hometown to go back to Chicago, I usually cry for about the first 15 minutes of the drive away. I'd never, ever, EVER want to move back, but part of me will always be there.

[Jennu]

Good luck with the doctor. If you do have to go gluten-free, just remember, it's a hassle, nothing more. It may be a huge hassle, but it's one that you're completely capable of dealing with.

[Lisa]

Good luck tomorrow. No matter what, you will handle it superbly.

I'm coming to Seattle next week for a conference. I am not packing any pants with lobsters or even horses on them, which seem to be the thing around these parts. :) Your post was spot-on my experience of going home, and of marriage. I wish I wrote it down as well as you!

Enjoy the Chicago conference!

[Vanessa McGrady]

Two things: Ask Jeanne (Mommy McGrady) about the gluten thing as she's been gluten-free her whole adult life, no problem.

#2: Please share the marriage thing when you figure it out. I don't get it and don't see what it's good for, unless you are getting divorced from a man who makes a good living.

[BOSSY]

Lord, sister, so much to talk about, so few hours to stay awake chatting in our parallel beds like Ernie and Bert!

[Stacy (mama-om)]

I've been thinking of you... I hope the appointment went well. I am happy to talk with you about the gluten-free thing if you'd like.

I am wishing you and your family well throughout this transition...

Love,
Stacy