It’s not writer’s block.
Because then, I’d stare at the screen and wrack my very soul for something to write…
No… I have TONS to write about. VOLUMES. ROOMS OF VOLUMES.
NEIGHBORHOODS, FULL OF HOUSES, FULL OF ROOMS OF VOLUMES… but, honestly, I don’t feel like it right now. I can’t explain it. I’m too……….tired… to write.
We’ve been invaded by mice – clearly, the Nihm variety, that seek only to outsmart the traps Kory patiently lays for them.
Chad, the squirrel, came back …. the nostalgia of Thanksgiving bringing him to our door once more (or mayhap the heady perfume of banana/peanut butter milkshake, but whatevs) and hilarity and squirrel growling ensued.
The Teen is back. Mostly. I mean, he’s visiting at the moment (wherein visiting= hiding in basement and eating an entire box of chocolate donuts in one night)… but there’s news on his front.
The Baby will be 2 ENTIRE years old on Thanksgiving and I owe that kid a blog in a major way….
I’ve had forty-billion “AGED MATERNAL SENIOR CITIZEN GOD YOU ARE TOO OLD TO HAVE A BABY TESTS” that mostly consist of me sobbing at my desk and then… everything turning out to be probably ok. There is also a lot of this:
Them: Oh! You’re 37!
Me: Yep.
Them: You don’t LOOK 37. (squinty eyes)
Me: Well, thanks. The chub helps. Makes one look younger.
Them: Hm. Well. Now that we know you are 37, please sit down so we can discuss at length the hundreds…no, THOUSANDS of ways everything can go horribly wrong with your unborn child, the birth, and you… all the many ways that you and your stupid ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE are going to screw everything up for anyone.
Me: Wow. I’ve never felt so old in my life.
Them: We haven’t even GOTTEN to your weight yet, sucker.
I’m losing weight, as I always do my first trimester… but otherwise, doing quite well despite my obvious need for a walker and an assisted living plan.
The holidays have snuck back up on me. I’m kind of looking forward to them this year. I’m hoping that I can avoid any horrible family fights and dramatic sudden escapes in tears this year… and have a Zen couple of days. I’m too tired to be outraged and too over it to stir up another pot, as I did last year.
I admit it, the holidays don’t always bring out the best in me. I get over-stimulated (oh, stop it) and cranky and mostly just want to be at home… so all the NOT BEING AT HOME starts to wear on me and sometimes, as a result, I act a teensy bit badly. AHEM. Several glasses of wine have been known to help this process along.
This year, I vow to NOT accuse my deeply religious father-in-law of having a Jesus Superiority Complex. I vow to not tell him that his church is a sham.
I vow to not compare my best friend to the Virgin Mary forced to give birth in the barn, after a miscommunication about dinner plans.
I vow to not say the words, “You are all against me!” on Christmas Eve.
Oh yes, I did.
Life… is just tripping along and I’m hoping this little update will act like a metaphorical prune and gets things moving along again.
Sometimes, a little nudge is all you need.
