Out of Practice, I'm Afraid...

It occurs to me that I'm a little bit rusty in my use of an alarm clock.

Okay, I seriously considered just starting up a new posting and pretending that I haven't been away for almost six weeks, but I feel as though an explanation is in order.

First off, Merry belated Christmas (is that even appropriate?) and happy belated new year. The one thing we can say for sure looking back on 2006 is that it's gone. Is that for better or worse? I'm not sure. It sure brought a whole lot of challenges (being without a paycheque for the entire year being one, dealing with a premature, colicky infant another), but it also brought some pretty amazing moments (Feb. 5 strikes me as one, and there are multitudinous others too numerous to count in parenthetical form). On the balance, a good year on the family front, a lame-duck year on the career/making any money at all front.

On new year's eve, Steph and I were sitting on the couch drinking our wine and reflecting on the year. We decided (actually, I decided, but it lends the whole thing a bit more credence if I say that we decided it together--more genteel, if less accurate) that 2006 could have been dubbed "The Year of Waiting." And if that's the case, then we have hereby dubbed 2007 "The Year that Something Finally Happens." I'm sure we could've come up with something more catchy, but there you go.

In this time of sober reflection, I'd like to say that I've personally felt in the doledrums over the past year, and I'm only starting to realize the depth of it just now. I think that my lack of excitement about life in general really hampered my ability to fully enjoy things that did go well. It seems that when one is in a slump, even the high points don't seem as high as they should. And then the guilt sets in: why am I not as happy about this as I should be? I suppose the opposite is also entirely true: when one is on a roll, even the bad things don't get one down.

I have to admit, I've lived my life with plenty of time in both areas. Maybe it's an inevitable dance--back and forth from highs to lows. But then again, maybe it's something that we have control over (I'm using the collective noun to obscure the fact that I'm really talking about myself, although I suspect that most have some degree of empathy for my position). I've decided that in 2007, I'm going to do all I can to live a life that is focused on the positive, not the negative. I have so many good things going for me that the lack of any kind of paycheque for the past 18 months shouldn't be what I define myself by. I'm accomplishing good things out here, and, as one of my profs said last semester, if you fail to appreciate the moment you're in for the sake of looking to the future, you miss all the opportunity you have to actually accomplish something while you're there.

Whew. Now that I've gotten several paragraphs out on something I had no intention of writing about, time to move on with what I wanted to write about. Yes, it's been a while. And not only am I rusty at setting an alarm clock (more on that in a bit), I'm also rusty at this whole blogging thing. I guess I just need to "find my voice" as they say; it'll come. Why have I been away so long? Glad you asked.

Where do I begin? When we last left our heroes, they were just overcoming the vicious Noro Virus and preparing to drive back to BC. I'll pick it up there (sort of) and give you the Reader's Digest condensed version of events.

We did get back safely, after a horrible car ride (child in teething pain in a car for 10 hours--you figure it out). Shortly thereafter, both Steph and Theo came down with a cold that just went on and on; Theo eventually developed a secondary bacterial infection (probably bronchiolitis), which meant two trips to the doctor, a terrible set of X-rays and blood work, and a visit to the local pediatrician (twice). If he's not scared of doctors yet, we've still got a little time. Crazy. Have you ever tried to take an infant for X-rays? Not pretty. They use a device that's (I'm not kidding) called a "Pigg-O-Matic." It's terrible, and reminiscent of Silence of the Lambs. For some reason, I couldn't find any pictures of it on the 'net.

Somewhere in the midst of all that, I led worship three times in two weeks, we hosted the most disatrous Christmas dinner in the history of said get-togethers (I'll explain some other time), had a quiet new year's (after cleaning up baby puke from the car--always the last thing you want to do before a new year begins), and had an insane amount of social visits with friends and family. So not only was I less than energetic about blogging, we also had to put Theo's crib in what is normally our office, as Steph's mom (who is living at our place while we're here) has occupied what used to be his room. Instead of kicking her out (which is very uncouth), we moved him, but it meant that his bed was in the same room as the computer, and, since my prime blogging time is just before bed, it was not possible for me to have access to the machine at the appointed time. Satisfied with that excuse? Too bad.

Eventually, all the hoopla ended, and it was time to stagger out of town, which I did. Yes, "I", not "we." We decided that it would be best for all of us if Steph and Theo stayed behind in Langley while I came out here. Thus they will be remaining there for just over three weeks until his birthday, at which point I'll fly back and bring them back here.

What all this means is that I'm living the bachelor lifestyle for a bit. It's fine by me (except the part about not having my family here and being lonely); unlike many bachelors, I can actually cook (and quite enjoy it, truth be told) and clean to an acceptable level of sanitation (and find it important). But re-discovering bachelorhood five years into marriage has been interesting. Okay, I'm only on day two (if you don't include the two travel days), but so far it's been exciting. I can do all the things that are verboten around my house, like sitting here and blogging to my heart's content, or eating a whole box of cookies in a single sitting. Okay, haven't done that last one yet, but maybe I will soon.

In addition, being by myself has led me back to that terrible device we've all come to hate: the alarm clock. You see, with Theo around, there has been no need for an alarm for close to a year (and even before that, because Steph was so uncomfortable when she was pregnant that sleeping in never happened). This semester, however, I have an 8:00 class on Wednesday and Friday mornings, which is unpleasant. With no Theo around, this means that I must set an alarm if I am to be awake in time. I could rely on my internal clock getting me out of bed, but that particular device is set to wake me between 7:30 and 8:00, which is too late.

Last night when I went to bed, I carefully set my alarm for the designated time, and promptly fell asleep. I woke with a start at 7:45 this morning, cursing the foul thing and realizing that I was going to start off the semester by being late for my first class. And then, I realized something: in order for an alarm to actually go off, one must, in addition to setting it to the desired time, turn the device on. Ah. Well, crap. Next time, I guess.

I think this is where I'm going to end it for the evening. Perhaps a little unceremonious, but I've coaxed about all the blood from this stone as I'm going to get--the quality of the narrative is quickly decreasing, and I'm not going to wait around for it to get worse. I'm going to leave this post up for the weekend, and hope that some of you happen to check for a new posting in that time. I'll be back with the regular daily updates starting on Monday. See you then. For real.