I've had a few friends tell me things like: "Oh, I wanted to catch up by reading your journal, but I got too depressed so I stopped," or: "I haven't read your LJ lately. Any new catastrophes I should know about?"
So, here's a moment entirely free from MS or Aspourette's angst: tonight, after
janradder cleaned one of his old Beatles' records, he put on the White Album, and Arie, Éiden, and I danced and danced and danced and danced.
When I decided to become a parent, what I'd really looked forward to was dancing with my kids, as I have such great memories of dancing with my own parents and my sisters. Thanks to Aspourette's, it was hard for Arie to pick up on why dancing might be remotely pleasurable, or else he just wanted to jump, flap his hands, and become whipped up unpleasantly. Thanks to MS, dancing has been something I had to do only when things were working.
Well, tonight my body was working, and Arie was calm and inventive, and he and Éiden and I switched dance moves back and forth and back and forth, we did the special waltz hold which involves Mommie holding them in her arms and spinning and spinning.
Arie made up his own wonderful floppy distinctly Aspie dance, and Éiden and I imitated it, adding in our own flourishes.
"Why Don't We Do It In The Road" has never had such youthful, innocent exuberance.
It was delicious.