Uh-oh My Head

One of the most fun things for me during my most recent Canadian adventure was listening to my little granddaughter C.J. talk ... and talk ... and talk. She's not quite two years old, and she has an amazing vocabulary ... of course she does, she is a genius after all. She said so many adorably cute things while I was there, not the least of which was, "No, Ghee, no!" when we were wrestling or I was tickling her and we both knew what she really meant was, "More playing, Ghee, more playing!!!" And it goes without saying that my absolute favorite was when she said, "Lub you, Ghee," ... go ahead and say it with me ... that's just so stinking sweet. For all of her cute words, phrases and sentences, there was something she said over and over and over that just tickled the daylights out of me and continues to make me smile every time I think about it.

Being the incredibly clever and creative child she is (did I mention she's a genius?), C.J. took the small, well-used word "uh-oh" and made it part of a sentence that covers a vast array of problems that may arise in baby-land. If she dropped her piece of Matt's homemade pizza while she was sitting in her high chair at the table, she would say, "Uh-oh my pizza!" If she was worried that her ever-present nail polish would disappear when her hands were washed, she would exclaim, "Uh-oh my nails!" If she couldn't seem to locate her favorite blankey, she would tearfully wail, "Uh-oh my lankey!" When her hands were covered with the mittens she so despises, she would scream, "Uh-oh my hands!!!!" And on and on she proclaimed ... "Uh-oh my Thomas!," Uh-oh my cars!," "Uh-oh my Violet!," "Uh-oh my wadybug!" "Uh-oh my Ikea potty!" And the sweetest "Uh-oh my ..." of all? When I had a bandaid on my thumb and she touched it and lamented, "Uh-oh my Ghee ouchie." I'm sitting here chuckling as I type those words ... geez, that kid really and truly is medicine for my soul.

Last year I confessed a ton of things about myself in this blog, and among those confessions was that there was a time in my life when I threw back more than my fair share of alcohol. Not only did I drink a lot and often, I had a really high tolerance level for booze ... it required a pretty large consumption of spirits to cause me to become intoxicated. Over the years, I pretty much gave up drinking with the hope that if I was "good" in that area of my life, perhaps God would see fit to "fix" me in regard to that other big part of me that had tortured me my whole life ... I know ... that was rational thinking at its best, right? That plan obviously didn't work out so well for me, and though I never went back to the heavy drinking I had done before, I did have an occasional beer or glass of wine from time to time. And then came diabetes and depression and all the meds that go with those fun pals of mine, and drinking a beer meant planning and timing said beer around medication times and types and blood sugar levels and food intake and calculating how many carbs and sugars the beer contained and knowing that alcohol is absorbed into my system much more quickly and its effects are greatly amplified ... well, you get the picture ... I only drink on special occasions these days.

Remember last year when I wrote about attending my first-ever holiday party for the company where I've worked for more than 11 years? For those of you who considered that a huge milestone in my life (which it was, by the way ... really, really, really huge), you'll be thrilled to know that last Friday night, I attended my second holiday/winter office party. That has to be of monumental importance somehow ... the fact that I managed to fly on four airplanes AND go to an office party in less than the span of one month's time ... it simply has to be important somehow. I suppose the next big test as to whether I'm making progress on overcoming some of my irrational fears and working through my overwhelming anxiety issues will be when spring storm season arrives, eh? Okay ... maybe I'm not ready to tackle the storm season problem just yet ... sheesh ... I got on airplanes and went to an office party ... I'm thinking that's more than enough progress for now.

Our company grew tremendously last year, which means we gained a lot of new employees ... new employees who have spouses or significant others I hadn't met ... new employees whose spouses or significant others I knew would be attending the party on Friday. I get very nervous now when I am in situations that require me to meet new people ... one of the not-so-fun side effects of telling the truth about who I am ... I'm terrified of the possible judgment that may come. I was super extra nervous Friday evening ... between meeting the new people, having to dress up in casual cocktail attire (though this year I did know what that meant, by the way, and I wore my shiny shoes, suspenders, black pants with a pink pinstripe, pink shirt, black tie and black jacket) and hating to go to events like that alone, I was shaking like a leaf by the time I arrived. After engaging in a short time of nervous conversation with a couple of my friends, I glanced at my watch, ducked into the restroom to check my blood sugar, got a plate of food and a low-carb beer and sat down at a table near the back of the room. I quickly polished off both the food and the beer, and headed back for more ... more food and more beer. Suffice it to say that my nervousness eased more than a little following round two, and before I knew it, I was meeting all the new folks with ease and grace ... okay, maybe grace isn't the correct word ... I was meeting all the new folks with ease and the complete and total goofiness that accompanies my consumption of two bottles of light beer. I ended up having lots of fun ... I think ... though I am more than a little anxious about the stories I may hear at work tomorrow. 

Yesterday morning, I woke up with a headache that hung around for a good part of the day, and several times throughout the morning and afternoon, I said aloud, "Uh-oh my head." But here's the thing ... the really awesome thing ... I also woke up yesterday morning feeling loved and cared for and appreciated. I woke up yesterday morning thinking about how many of the young people the night before had sought me out to talk to me and introduce me to the people they love. I woke up yesterday morning and read a text from a friend who was checking in with me to make sure I was okay. I woke up yesterday morning knowing that my pounding headache ... knowing that my "Uh-oh my head" means something so very, very, very important. My "Uh-oh my head" means I'm alive, friends ... I'm alive to feel ... to love ... to be.

"Uh-oh my head" ... "Uh-oh my head" indeed.