Wow. I struck a cord yesterday, huh? As Randy said, I should have stated my intentions earlier on because, to a person, y’all made me feel better about this whole breastfeeding fiasco. Sounds like I’m not alone with my troubles. If you haven’t reached out already and given me the opportunity to say it directly – it gets better, friend. Life is so much nicer here on the other side. Though the hormones are still all wackadoo. What’s that? You might have a couple weeks of depression-like thoughts when you decide to quit? Ugh. One more reason I’m not a fan.

And on that note, on to today’s post. I swear I said my theme to August was “fun”, but this one has been weighing on me too long, too. Let’s get it out of the way and tomorrow I promise I’ll be back to bigger and “funner” things!

A story has stuck with me, but it’s not my story to tell. I kept pushing off a literary reaction, but then Pablo had this picture up on Facebook yesterday.

Woof. It’s kinda hard not to get all philosophical when that’s thrown at you. Thanks, A!

Here’s the deal for the four of you out there that don’t already know my friend Nicole. (Yes, another one. I feel like I could use “Nicole” in place of other words like the Smurfs use “smurf” at this point…) Recently, Nicole finished up her perfectly healthy pregnancy by having a daughter that was not perfectly healthy. Instead, Miss O only made it 36 hours here on earth. Nicole (at least on “paper” and electronic means) has been A-MAZ-ING in her faith in God and His plan. So unflappable that once life gets back to normal (whatever that’s supposed to mean now), I want to sit down with her and talk about it. I need me a God like that.

Meanwhile, I’m over here pacing the floors, yelling and crying in disbelief. This is just not supposed to happen. It’s just not. Babies do not die. They come home and get cuddled by mom and dad and wear ridiculous hats. They may catch a cold or not gain weight, but overall they are lively piles of goo that turn their parents into even bigger piles of goo every time that they smile.

Then, because I’m an only child and an a-hole and like to make it all about me, I come back to the two little nags that I can never turn off:

How Can I Be This Lucky?

How can a life go so according to plan its unbelievable? People would not watch the movie of my life because the drama is so minor.

Am I the only one that lives in constant fear of what’s going to happen next? Of what’s going to destroy the perfect balance of their lives? Who else bears witness to situations like Nicole’s and can do nothing but collect cards and candy bars and worry about what’s going to take her own daughter’s life? It’s like I have some sort of good life guilt.

It’s not fair that everything is coming up roses for me. It just can’t last. But to live in fear is not a way to live either.

Do as I say people, not as I do.

Who Gives A Rip About the Little Stuff?

Nicole is my health coach, so there really was a reason to think about the clean eating challenge and this situation in the same breath. It got me thinking, if we could all die tomorrow, who cares if I eat the chocolate cake? On the other hand, Nicole just suffered a major tragedy, the least I could do is give her this minor win of having a successful team.

Yet, in a world of babies not coming home and legendary comedians not thinking they are good enough to use oxygen, who gives a rip that I’m still five pounds overweight or can’t keep my kitchen clean? Life is too short for this nonsense.

So carpe diem they tell us and for the most part I do. I don’t have a soul-sucking job. I scrap together pennies to take vacations. I eat the cake. I write this blog post instead of the lesson plan I need for class tonight. I asked out the dude and then dumped the dude and was in the right place at the right time for the next guy, the right guy, to ask me out. I live my life.

But when does living life get in the way of maintaining order? On my deathbed, I will not say I wish I swept up Noah’s hair more often, but I still feel guilty every time I see a fluffy tumbleweed roll by.

Woof. I’m confused. Happy for myself, scared for the future, and sad for my friend. Ah, being a lady with free flowing lady hormones coursing through her veins. Ain’t it grand…