I am guilty of displacement today. I didn't want to think about the funeral, so I focused on getting Bub to Therapy on time (we didn't, but the 9:30 people no showed and Bub got moved in...prolly cuz we prepay 2 weeks in advance....) and getting Zbear to her 12 month appointment at 15 months....yeah...lets just say we've been having some scheduling issues lately....
Now I find that Zbear is 31.4 inches and only 21.5 lbs. She's underweight for her age and her length. I'm very depressed about this. Her NP wants me to start adding nut butters to her diet. I'm scared to try what with all my food allergies and sensitivities and Bub's milk allergy. So I'm taking a deep breath and going to get some almond butter on monday....after I get some sleep. Also, Joe and I are debating whether to put her BACK on formula or maybe try adding malted to her soymilk. I'm thinking we're going to go back to formula...I feel terrible. She eats really well. I give her lots of variety. WHO would think MY kids would have concerns w/ being UNDERWEIGHT?!?!? Bub is a stick, and it looks like Z will be too. Why do they get my recessive genes? *sigh*
Z has now completed her polio series. Next series will be Hib I think...Still deciding.
Then after getting the zb'er home and in for a nap, got ready and went to the funeral. It was very sad. that's all I'm going to say about it.
So afterward, I displaced my upset-ness by making dinner, then going to a choir practice that I just realized I got the performance dates wrong and will only be able to be in the production by the biggest finagling I can acheive, and then went to the library. Found a new book on Autism and newer/researched therapies. I think I may review it ....SEE, I'm doing it again.
then instead of dealing w/ my sadness, I did the dishes, convinced Bub that he had to clean his butt-butt after pooping, (washed my hands....), and cleaned my refrigerator because I forgot/didn't get around to cooking a chicken, and it went REALLY bad, and since I'm going to be doing more displacement here in a min by cooking several meals to feed my little fambly during my next rotation, I didn't want to put yummy food into a fridge that smelt horrible. You know the movie Labyrinth? the "bog of eternal stench"? yeah, that was my fridge. 409 is my friend. :p Plus I'm getting laundry done.
But really, I know what I'm doing, and I know what it is. But knowing what you are doing and why you are doing it doesn't really help you deal with it in the end...it just seems to make the anxiety about it bigger.
I' haven't had that many people that really meant a lot to me die, the few that have were 100s of miles and years distanced, Not someone I spent time with every week. But I'm not trying to come out as a caloused person that wasn't close to her dead relatives...it's just that I was really young when they died, or that I was never close to them to begin with...the one exception to that was my Tetka, but I hadn't seen her in years, and then when I tired to call to keep in touch with her, her English vanished, and my ukrainian is pretty much non-existant, then her hearing went, and when she died, it was like she was already a memory. (does that sound awful?)
It's kind of scaring me how hard I'm taking this. And I did realize he was important to me before all this happened, I know I griped about special requests, but I always did them because beneath the bluster and the drunk sailor impressions I knew it meant a lot to him.
I'm getting all morose again...better displace and make some enchiladas (w/o cheese) and meatballs and brisket.