Time Flies

So in my current condition, I've found myself wishing away time - specifically the next two months of my life. I've received lots of warnings from friends that this is a dangerous practice. Time goes by too fast as it is, they tell me. But when the mere act of sitting on the toilet is almost as painful as a root canal without Novocaine, the idea of moving on and getting past this little bump in the road seems like the best thing that could happen right now.

I'm feeling a bit better today, and am concerned this is due to the amount of time I've spent flat on my back in bed this week. Because the reality of my life for the next 7 weeks doesn't include lots of time in the bed. It includes a 20 pound slug who has a different therapy or social appointment every day of the week. When I consider that I - with the help of my mother who would sacrifice just about anything to help me - have to somehow get through the next 7 weeks, time suddenly feels like it is moving with the same vigor as a stream of blackstrap molasses.

It's only when I take a step back from my current reality that I realize how quickly life does pass us by. Five years ago I was living alone with three cats and happily teaching fifth grade. Might I add I was also thin and fabulous? In five years I've accumulated a husband, two dogs, two kids, a bigger mortgage, a new hometown, and about 70 pounds. (Ouch. That's hard to admit!) I also lost a career and one cat along the way. Honestly, it seems like only yesterday that I walked into MacNBobs, sat down beside the handsome man I'd been spending hours and hours talking to on the phone, and looked into his eyes for the first time. Oh yes. Time flies.


Before I go, I think it's only fair to share with you that little baby boy Hogan does indeed have a name. Typing "baby #2" is getting old, so let's just all refer to him as Jay and I do. As Mac. Mac Hogan. I wanted a "k" on the end of that name, but Jay prefers it without, and I'm going to let him win that fight. Mac is short for McGuire which is , of course, a family name. My Dad's grandmother was Minnie Belle McGuire Steele. She was a rather stern looking, solid woman - an unimportant fact until you consider that Lois has a huge portrait of her namesake on her wall. I think a portrait of Minnie Belle might give Mac the terrors at night. But never fear! Mac's middle name will be Robert - in honor of the Pops - and his baby picture is anything but frightening and will have a place of honor over Mac's crib. I like the thought of the Pops watching over our boy every night.

So let's start the countdown to McGuire Robert Hogan's arrival. And let's hope that countdown ends in a flash - before the Tylenol with Codeine prescription runs out.