Do you love me, do you, surfer girl?

I don't like apologizing for not posting. I'm the real victim, as my thoughts haven't been summarily cataloged since I last said anything in this form Whatever.

So the boy is almost two. That happened. Time is relative, I suppose, and I am beginning to understand that much of parenting is trying to forget the terrible moments and clinging to the good ones. The rest of parenting is realizing that in the long run, the universe fades to black, so this 8 minute car ride home with a screaming 2o-month

old in the back seat will also end. I suppose I'm not as sentimental as some parents and not as pragmatic as others. It's hard to wax poetic but I feel like a parent who doesn't is selfish or grumpy or just plain depressed. I have great times with The Boy. There, I said it.

Work is well. I wish that in nursing school I had learned what the role of nursing was; that is, the patient advocate, the doctor's eyes and ears, the family liaison, etc. But I don't think I could have learned that without doing it. So I'll keep doing it until I figure it out and then make profound speeches at dinners out and such.

I guess there is more to write but there never is. It's all been done. Except this.

Also, here is a picture of us now.