December has been kicking me in the face, with work stress and reading stress and my general inability to get everything done that needs to be done, so I didn’t update for O’s birthday on the sixth, or the finalization on the eleventh. So much later than I thought it would be, and I’m still not sure if it was a big deal or not.
I spent the week of Thanksgiving having reason to feel both grateful and guilty, and here’s the account of the illness that provoked it all. Warning : this gets really gross really fast. Far grosser than the snot!Hitler mustache. So I’m just going to put it all behind the cut. I’m not sure if I have anything profound to say, but it’s definitely the biggest thing that’s happened to O and me in the last month, so it’s worth writing about.
You’re going to be eleven months old in a few days, and it’s been an incredible almost-year. You know I love you beyond reason, and you’ve made it clear how much you’re attached to me. And that’s what we have to discuss; your affection is becoming a bit of a problem. I’ve got no objection to PDA, strong touch, or even an occasional affectionate punch, but I do have a problem with being awakened from a nap by being bitten. In the eye.
[I have no idea why this is showing up without a title, but the title of this post is : Falling into the Guilt Trap and Reflections on Dance Camp]\
For me, at least, there’s been a profound disconnect in my life between things I know intellectually and things I know experientially. I’ll know something in my head and my heart and gut will disagree profoundly. It leads me to question myself a lot (Do I really like this guy, or do I just think I do? And does it even matter?), beat myself up (I know I should be over this by now! Submit, emotions!), and overestimate how well I’m dealing with some things (Of course I’m over this, I’ve thought about it enough and I’m bored with it now). This has been brought home to me recently when it comes to O.
I wrote a whole speech for O’s conversion that was going to announce and explain his ritual name, but when the time came (both at the mikveh and at shul), I just riffed on these things a little more off-the-cuff. But for those of you who weren’t there, now that O and my lappy are both better, here’s some of the reasons for his name.
Avshalom Iyov Avraham ben Avraham Avinu v’Sarah Imanu
The conversion happened, and was lovely and sweet and meaningful. I’m going to post the program I wrote up for attendees at the mikveh below, and post my notes for the naming speech i gave later, when O isn’t being so needy (he’s got another cold, bless him). Feel free to crib from this if you’re planning your own conversion ceremony and need to explain what’s going on to various well-wishers.
Baruch Hashem, we have a tooth!