Hello you. It’s been a while since I visited my little space on the internet. I suppose there are reasons why, nothing all that interesting. Social Media was bugging me, all the polarizing voices were bugging me, the race to recognition was bugging me, I was tired of thinking and processing so I got quiet. I got quiet both here and in my mind.
I still read a lot though. I read about Amish settlements, Sabbath, Michelle Obama, the Bush sisters, Parenting (Lord have Mercy), some flighty fiction, I crawled my way through a book on trauma, started and gave up on C.S.’s Lewis’ Until We Have Faces. I bought a kindle actually, which goes against everything I believe in, or maybe it’s everything I perceive myself to believe in. But whatever, I can read at night without the light on and if you can believe it - the instant gratification of two day shipping isn’t enough, I must have it now and Kindle is just so NOW. The nail in the coffin, I am of this age.
But I have positive thoughts about gardening and even some seeds sitting on my counter. They serve to remind me that I will garden one day, as well as offer the air of outdoorsy hippie to my kitchen visitors. This makes me feel green and superior, which I like and also serves as proof that I haven’t completely lost my principles. Although, last year it took like eighteen months to grow a little head of broccoli and then I waited a day to see if it would get bigger and went to find it had blossomed into flowers, albeit they were lovely flowers but nothing I could roast and salt. It was really disheartening I know I said I wouldn’t get discouraged by gardening but it is truly hard and urbanization has made me useless. I blame you, history, for my inabilities.
Maybe I haven’t been writing because my brain is mush. Motherhood has softened me in all the ways a person can be softened. The mac-n-cheese I finish off for Colette isn’t helping and the hours logged reading and re-reading and re-reading The Pout Pout Fish isn’t helping either.
As far as updates go, Colette is, “busy” as my dad says, aka she’s high energy. She does a fake laugh that totally wrecks me and she has a deep and all-consuming obsession with balloons. Sprouts is kind enough to place them throughout the grocery store in random locations so that every two second Colette yells, “ba, ba, ba” until I acknowledge, yes, another balloon. This doubles our time at the grocery store, which she doesn’t mind because she’s extroverted and waves at everyone. I on the other hand would like to make eye contact with less strangers. But this is my fate.
Also I got a Disneyland Pass. It’s all very fun but the only thing I have to say about my experience thus far, is that the adults without children who wait in long lines to see characters such as Anna and Elsa, these are interesting people. It’s more than I can understand. I would like to take them to coffee and ask them questions.
I also did a little guest speaking for Nurture at a local church, it’s MOPS by another name. I’m always surprised when nice good Christians read my blog and have interest in talking to me about it or having me speak about my faith. I think, you read my blog?” But did you? Because it’s not really women’s ministry level stuff, it’s all mangled and angry and confused. When I walk in those rooms I feel like the grim reaper, which what even is the grim reaper? Google says its death personified. So maybe less than that, just kind of a wet blanket. I’m not fluffy or encouraging, but I did the talk and I wasn’t nervous, I think I said what I wanted to say and one time a girl laughed at a joke I made, so all in all, I think it was a success.
In other news, Trever looks like a mixture of a homeless guy and Bradley Cooper in, A Star is Born. He grew his hair out, except of course his leg hair which he shaves for cycling. Also he is now in a “street style” fashion phase, which I think is code for expensive sweats. Colette prefers him to me, it’s pretty cute.
I still feel like a new mom. I’m still making peace with what we went through.
I ran into a friend a few weeks after bringing Colette home from the hospital. I ranted about all the ways I was figuring life out. I was trying to understand what happened, what I experienced, what it did to me, how to heal from it, how to be sure I was making peace with it, basically making a concerted effort to FIX IT. He was kind and graciously told me to slow down. “You can’t force your way to understanding and peace, it will just wear you out. Allow yourself to get there, I promise you will.”
So I took his advice literally, and if my life was The Pilgrims Progress, I sat down on the trail and took a nap.
My eyes are blinking open again, maybe my mind will too.