I yelled at the fence guy today. He is doing a very crappy job, I want it better and I’m not going to pay him until it’s right. That’s what I should have said. Instead I told him I was busy taking care of Ramona and Simon and didn’t have time to babysit him too.

I find myself doing that lately. Wondering if the guy who cut me off in traffic would be horrified if he knew “what I was going through”, maybe send flowers. And then I have to wonder, “What if that guy was rushing to the ER with his own child?” Then I’m the jerk. It’s easy to start keeping score like that.

I think I mostly catalog my life as a series of aquisitions and losses. I got a degree, got married, got pregnant, lost the baby, etc. I don’t usually list the blessings in that retelling of my life: Our solid marriage, relative financial security, beautiful home, amazing friends and family. Those are all just a given most of the time, like “Duh! Of course we have a great house, we work really hard!” Who am I kidding? We are lucky. Lucky that we still have choices, lucky that we’re surrounded by such support and love, lucky that our own hearts keep beating through all of this.

Poor fence guy. For all I know he suffers from Fensus Crappiolla’s Syndrome and is heroically trying to do his best under difficult circumstances. And it’s not his fault he walked into the perfect storm of home repair+PMS+skipped naps. Sheesh. I should be grateful that we’re getting a nice new fence.

I need to stop with the ungrateful-state-of-my-heart posts. Even writing this post feels a little self-indulgent. You’d think at some point I’d internalize some sense of humility and gratitude and stop being such a baby. But I have a feeling I’m just going to keep going there, feeling entitled to special treatment and pity.

Anyhoo. We’re making progress with the G tube thing. Ramona will be cleared for the surgery by cardiology on Thursday and we’ll make an appointment for a surgical consult tomorrow. Please pray that all will go smoothly and we’ll have her looking less tubey in no time. Please pray also that the G tube will reignite her interest in eating by mouth. And that her arteries are growing. And that she’s getting stronger. And that I’ll stop keeping track of who’s life is easier/harder than ours.

Love, Jane.

P.S. This picture of Simon just cracks me up because he looks so inebriated. Must be all the fruit. Good times.

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