My Son’s Ribcage

My son’s ribcage is expanding. I know this because he feels different when he sits on my lap. Naturally, he is growing, that is what children do. He is getting taller (the top of his head just grazes my chin). He weighs more (it is an effort, now, to carry him upstairs). When he was a baby, he would curl up and rest his head in the area between my neck and shoulder, like he was molded to fit that singular space. I could be still for hours,


Expressing Thanks

On a friends facebook page, she posted a simple note stating that people don’t seem to say thank you enough. They don’t. She’s right. But her post has been overrun with people explaining why they don’t give thanks, some even going so far as to say she isn’t being sensitive enough to ‘issues’ people may have. It is unreal to to see people actually getting defensive about being reminded to say thank you. People are being actually being grouchy about gratitude.

Depression is a Duplicitous Asshole.

Everyone battles something. Some of these battles are episodic and some rage over the course of a lifetime. Many of these battles are so private that they happen without anyone else even being aware of them taking place.

Today I learned that a man I respected for his ability to share himself so publicly died. His depression had reportedly been growing in severity and yet he still entertained. And I felt the harshest of reminders that just because someone is bold enough to speak openly about struggling with a disease, they are far from free of it’s grip. Just because someone’s job is making us smile, it doesn’t mean they are carefree–it just means they are very good at their job.