Alright folks. Here it goes. I’m back from the place I landed when I fell off the face of the Earth. Well, not really back, but let’s just say I’m sending smoke signals. And while I doubt that anyone actually *missed* me, I feel that I owe an apology and some sort of explanation to what few readers we do have and to my dear friend Laura for my absence.
First, my grandmother died. We mourned, we partied, we traveled all over the state. And then all over it again. And then. Masa went to Costa Rica for five days and I was thrust into flying solo for a while. And then. My work kicked into 85th gear and I’m moving like that girl from “Small Wonder” (remember that show? talk about dating myself…) just to keep up.
I am living on a knife-edge of sanity, people, juggling countless balls and – somehow, god only knows – managing to keep them all in the air most of the time. But I know that one false move and everything that I’ve worked so hard to keep together will come apart. I knew the score when I signed on to be a working mother. I knew that it would be hard. But the reality is so much more. Just more. Of everything. More difficult, more fun, more stressful, more amazing. Just … more.
So there you have it folks. My life exploded and the force knocked me, once and for all, off the face of the Earth. The End.
But it’s not, really the end, is it? Because when has being super busy at work ever stopped me before? I mean, I’m writing now, aren’t I? I could carve out time if I really wanted to. So the other piece of the puzzle is that my mind, when it has a spare second to think its own thoughts, has been largely occupied by one thing. One thing that I have not, even as I write this, figured out how to deal with on this blog.
Come the end of April, Masa and I will be officially Trying To Conceive.
We are done with condoms. I’m due for AF around the 18th and after that… it’s on. Now while this has been occupying most of my free thoughts of late, and while I am sure I’d have plenty to write about where my head is regarding this huge life-change embarkment, I hope that you’ll also realize that it is very difficult for me to do so, both for obvious reasons (well obvious if you’ve read any portion of this blog besides this one post) and not so obvious ones (the deep dark reaches of my own heart and soul.)
So it’s not that I’m *never* going to open up about my own TTC process or that I feel like I *can’t*. It’s just that, as of right now, I have yet to really land on a good way to go about it. And if you’ve ever been in this position (TTC), you know how it fills up every idle mind-wandering and colors every thought until it’s enough to make a girl crazy.
And yes, I could write many different things about subjects other than reproduction. I have, in fact, started several posts about this or that. Funny stories about tiny cats and silly moments with my boys. But it all feels empty and false. The words just don’t flow they way they should, and I’m loathe to spend time to write, refine, and then hit publish on a post that my heart isn’t in. Especially when my time is just so precious right now.
Maybe now that I’ve gotten this all off my chest, it will be easier. Maybe I won’t feel like I’m putting on a weird fake robot mask every time I write some inane filler post (which, let’s face it, are also necessary at times). We shall see. And perhaps, along the way, I’ll also come to terms with my own feelings and be able to share those too.
But for now, my apologies.