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I haven’t been very loyal to this blog. There are many reasons, I suppose. The primary one is that I’m no longer surprised by my lack of control; ape shit is my normal. Bed wetting regression? Meh, laundry. Still waking 2-3 times overnight to nurse? Meh, I’ll sleep again by 2018. Talking back while spitting at me? Take a break, young man. Commute every day by first dropping off the preschooler, and then grabbing a bus and train wearing a baby, and then riding a divvy bike (post daycare drop-off)? Meh, at least there hasn’t been much snow. 

There’s this other thing, too. Even typing it is hard. It’s not my thing, but it also is, because she’s my most beloved and best friend. My younger sister has lung cancer. Her diagnosis tracks with Matilda’s life. She had brain surgery earlier this month. Hmmm, that’s a weird sentence. She’s brilliant and strong and all of the things. I know that she’s giving cancer the finger, and that her life is full of tomorrows, but it puts most of my parenting rants into perspective for what they are – non-unique, self-aggrandizement that gets me through the years of sleep deprivation. 

So, needless to say, the multitude of issues that have arisen since we became a family of four (You thought it would be a good idea to “clean” the entire bathroom with that toilet brush while I was nursing your sister?) are a piece of cake. A delicious cake full of clichés.

Happy 2016! Break a wishbone, laugh, and hold your people close! 

   

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