I didn’t die, I didn’t get sick and I definitely didn’t convert back to Christianity. I’m just trying to get my life together and carve out some space and time for myself. I was doing so well there for awhile and I missed this blog when I took a break. I really did.
My problem is that posts seem to come to me as I’m lying in bed at night, when I’m just too damn tired to get up and write. Or when I’m driving the car, and writing would kill me and my whole family. I’m not a good note-jotter because I always convince myself that I will remember (with unparalleled eloquence no less) all the things I want to say. Then Declan throws a cup at my head and Paisley starts screaming “Mom! Mom! Mom” and quels surprise, I lose it. I am forever awed by mothers who stay at home and write novels in their “spare time”. Okay, awed and maybe a little bit suspicious.
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. About motherhood and womanhood and feminism and justice and anger. And what I’m going to do about all of those things. We are trying to decide whether we want another baby and I am also wrestling with the idea of going back to work (in some capacity anyway). These decisions have sent me into an existential tailspin and I have yet to come up with any concrete answers but I do feel like I’m making some headway. Will post in more detail as details become ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶i̶s̶t̶i̶c̶ available.
In the meantime, here are some pics of what we’ve been up to: