No, no need to run to your calendar, wondering if you'd missed a week or a few days. Let me rephrase it as, "It's October in my house."
I love October. I love the hint of fall, the decorations, the impetus to cook with pumpkin, the shows on tv, and of course, Halloween.
This will be the first time in my three daughters' lives that we haven't thrown a Halloween party. (Note: I would like on some of my posts from previous years about those parties, but eh, there's too many. If you want, just type in Halloween party in that search box up there.) The Boy has had one year without one -- we'd just moved to town and didn't know anyone.
Along with that, this weekend, I realized that Little Warrior and I are going to miss being at home for a third of October. 6 day hospitalization next week, then a four day, ending on Halloween.
So, in my position as O Exalted Queen of the Universe (at our house, anyway), I proclaimed that this past weekend began October. We got out the Halloween boxes. The party decorations are staying in the box for the year, but no fear, we have some nice little house geegaws. Happy little ghosts and jack o'lanterns smile at me from around the room.
It helps. I'm having a little bit of a hard day. I remember this happening after last scan, so I can just shrug and know that it'll pass. You worry so much about the scan, then you get the good news, and have that relief, and it feels good, but it's not something that permeates your being. Inside, you know that it just means they don't see anything. There are no guarantees. But its something. And even though it's a good something, you just kinda sink a little bit back into reality.
It'll pass. Meanwhile, as far as we're concerned, it's October.