Growing scabs.

I've had a stretch of great days lately, to the point where I believe I might have the day-to-day stuff down. I love my kid. He's hilarious and adorable and even when he's a grouch, I can let it go. Something clicked the other day when we had an awesome pediatrician appointment; I felt like we were on track for the first time since he was born, like we had made it out of the woods. (Or... the current woods. I suppose there will be woods and woods to come all life long...)

Yesterday I actually thought the sentence "I feel DELIGHTFUL today!" and it was true. Full of delight, I visited friends and then saw new friends at support group and had chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. I felt a lightness that I had not recognized for months, something that felt like myself.

Today I caught up with my sister on the phone and, as one does with sisters, we talked about things a bit deeper than the day-to-day news. "You seem defeated," she carefully observed and our conversation led me to confess that I don't believe in the world the same way I used to. I have a hard time seeing how my future is bright, how we're all headed some way other than those terribly pessimistic movies that I never let myself watch like Revolutionary Road or Blue Valentine.

The magic that I was always able to conjure up for myself and my future has been unmasked and diluted, like my life will end up "okay" at best. Even writing this, there's a tiny flame that ignites when I write these thoughts, a flame that scowls at the pessimism and wants to prove it wrong.

Deep down- deep, deep down- I just really do not want to settle for ordinary.