It’s March. And somehow, Alexis is turning 23 at the end of this month.
Twenty-three years ago today, I was in a hospital bed on strict bed rest, trying to keep her from arriving too soon. She had other plans. She wanted to come even earlier than she did, but the doctors were able to stop my contractions. I stayed there for three and a half long weeks, just waiting and hoping, counting the days. Finally, they broke my water and told us it was time.
We waited all day.
I was technically contracting the entire time, but I didn’t even feel them until I was already 8 centimeters dilated. I didn’t use any pain medication. Partly because the pain honestly wasn’t that overwhelming for me, and partly because I was scared of the epidural and just didn’t want it. I still think about that sometimes, how calm it all felt in the middle of something so big.
When she was born, she was the largest premature baby in the NICU. That says a lot because she was only 6lbs. She stayed there for a little over a month because her lungs were still underdeveloped. Bringing her home with oxygen was surreal. For about three months, those little tubes were just part of our normal. Those early years came with a few ER visits and a lot of worry. By the time she was four, her lungs had strengthened so much. We were afraid asthma would follow her into childhood, but thankfully, it didn’t.
And now she’s 23.
On their way back Saturday, they got a flat tire. Of course, it happened during the long stretch of nowhere, but somehow, it happened right outside a decent-sized city. What a relief that must have been. They got it fixed, continued on their way home, and stopped at Walmart for a new tire, and we picked her up there. Crisis handled. Trip successful. She had fun.
There’s another trend I’ve been seeing lately: creating your own Personal Curriculum. And honestly? I think that might actually be really good for me.
I’ve been doing pretty well with my cybersecurity studies, but I’m starting to feel like I could use a little more structure. Clear phases. Real milestones. Maybe even monthly themes or focus areas. I think having that kind of framework would help me see the bigger picture instead of just moving from one topic to the next. It might also make it easier to recognize how much I’m actually learning, because sometimes it’s hard to see progress when you’re in the middle of it.
Okay, switching gears because I just had a delicious idea.
We have raspberries, and now I’m thinking about making a raspberry matcha. Doesn’t that sound so good? I’m imagining mashing the raspberries with a little honey first. Then, whisk the matcha until it’s nice and frothy. Add some oat milk, pour in the raspberry mixture, and give it a good stir.
Oh! I finished The Black Cauldron (The Chronicles of Prydain #2), and I can absolutely see why this series is so beloved in children’s fantasy. This second installment picks up almost immediately after the events of The Book of Three, and the story feels darker, more urgent, and more emotionally layered.
It’s probably the most well-known book in the series, especially since it served as the inspiration for the 1985 Disney animated film of the same name. There’s something about this installment that feels more grounded and weighty; the stakes are higher, and the characters begin to grow in more meaningful ways.
I did enjoy this one more than The Book of Three, but I also appreciate now why the first book had to exist. It lays the emotional and narrative groundwork that makes The Black Cauldron resonate the way it does. Without that foundation, the choices and sacrifices in this book wouldn’t carry the same impact.
The raspberry matcha turned out so good. The tartness from the raspberries cuts through the earthy matcha in the nicest way, and the little bit of sweetness pulls it all together.
Alexis just came in, handed me three M&Ms, and then left… closing the door behind her. Three M&Ms and emotional damage. It’s just the girls and me in the house, but for some reason, a closed door can make me feel oddly shut out. My anxiety heightens when the door is shut, and I’m alone. I don’t know why. I should probably think about why this happens to me. I’m going to let the door be closed and turn back to my studying.
I’m going to finish up my studying and maybe play a game afterward.
The tickets for Florida have officially been purchased. This trip is really happening. That makes it feel more real somehow, and I can feel a little spark of excitement growing. When the girls were paying their portion, they discovered that Grandma had been quietly putting money into their account. That’s such a thoughtful thing to do. It’ll definitely help them, and it’s sweet to see that kind of support show up.
