15 November 2012  Dribs. Drabs.  I wrote a long post yesterday.
It started out like this:  I am anxious.  The post was largely
about the upcoming Thanksgiving trip the twins and I are taking
to see John's parents, brother, and sister in Michigan. These
trips always make me anxious, but it's difficult for me to write
about my complicated feelings around John's family and our
interactions in a way that is honest but also honors them. I
love them and care about them and value that they are a part of
our lives. It's also true that it's a complex, complicated
relationship we have, and that part of it is anxiety-inducing to
me. I'm trying to focus on the good things that always come from
those trips, most notably the joy that Maddie and Riley bring to
John's family. It's palpable.  I'm going to leave that at that.
The trip, however, is not the only thing making me anxious. I am
generally anxious about all kinds of things. It feels awful.
Most of the time, I pretend that I am fine. I do not make the
time to acknow