Waiting for my nails to dry...

I woke up yesterday with strep. Both of the kids had it last week so I guess it was inevitable. My throat was a little sore, but mostly I am just wiped out tired. I've been in bed for two days and Bill's had the kids to himself that whole time. I miss all that snuggle time and play time with the kids! Not to mention that Saturday was our anniversary.

Anyway, I'm feeling better and I can't sleep. So I did the mani/pedi thing and I'm waiting for my nails to dry. (Yes, I can actually type without messing them up.)

It's funny how you seem to think more late at night. Maybe it's because we're alone. Well, I am anyway. Bill won't come sleep downstairs until I wash the sheets! Back to the point: I'm thinking too much. I've been to three funerals within a year. My grandpa died last year of natural causes, his wife and my beloved grandma died this past April from Alzheimer's, and a friend's mother died too young from cancer. Reflecting on these funerals and memorials has made me consider what I would want.

First, I want a party, a wake. Everyone should have beer or wine depending on their preference. I want to be remembered for the funny things I said, the kind things I did, and even the mistakes I made. I want everyone to tell the best story they have about me.

Second, I want my friends to help Bill raise my kids. My friends are my extended family and the closest things to sisters I've had. It took me 25 years to find these women and they are integral to my life. I see them every day and my children see them every day.

Third, I don't want to be buried. Cremated is fine, I guess, but who wants to have to take care of that? How weird to have someone's ashes in your house. I suppose some may find comfort in that, but I don't think I would. I would prefer to have my body donated to science so maybe I could help someone down the road. There is a place in Tennessee (I think) called the Body Farm. It's a place where this guy uses bodies willed to him to study forensics. That would be good.

Fourth and most important, I want people to try to not be sad. I'm really trying to live each day the best I can. I love my life. Trust me, I'm not goody-two-shoes. In fact, I believe I'm referred to as "surly" in some circles. Apparently I have a look (my face in repose?) that could drop you from across the room. However, I realize how lucky I am and I try not to take it for granted. My husband is exactly my match, our kids are precious. I am able to stay at home with my children and raise them. I have great friends. My life is perfect for me. I could not possibly ask for more. We are not monetarily wealthy to some people's standards, but we can buy what we like at the grocery store. I still think twice about spending money on frivolous things, but we make sure we take at least two major family vacations a year (usually including Disney World). I don't want people to be sad FOR me. I'm not. I understand that they will be sad for themselves; I would be if I lost any them.

Having written all that, let's be clear that I'm not suicidal. It's just stuff I'm thinkin' about.