I've been feeling itchy lately, and kind of aimless in a sad way, and it occurred to me a while (okay, a month) ago that I haven't been writing since Faith & Family shut down. And blah blah blah insert boring introspective rambling here, but the thing is that I do not feel good when I don't write. My mind doesn't make sense and my mind is a bowl full of scraps of paper with random ideas and half-thunk thoughts on them, and the wind is blowing and I have to keep the thoughts in and try to make some order out of them and I keep adding more and gah! Just writing this lame analogy is making me panicky.
So. Lining the thoughts up. Just a few of them, tonight, because I'm solo parenting and I need to make myself some energy by watching television and eating ice cream sandwiches.
(If that's not how YOU make energy I am sorry for you.)
1. I am solo parenting, in fact, BY CHOICE for perhaps the first time ever. I mean, there's give and take going on, because I went to New Orleans in November for The Blathering AND to DC in January to visit Lauren, so I have gotten my share of Me Time and it's only fair for Bryan to have his.
But he has travelled for work quite a number of nights over the past six years and the fact is that whenever it has come down it (meaning when I have looked deeply into my own soul and wondered if I had the grit to handle it; Bryan doesn't pressure me) I have always previously been a leeeetle too weak to say, "Oh yes, honey, please take a few nights and go on vacation by yourself! I can manage even more solo parenting than I already do!" Because I wasn't sure the second sentence of that would be true.
Now, however, twins have turned me into Iron Woman (and also given me the perfect excuse to throw myself upon my mother's mercy and beg her to come help me, which she has done this week, which is why I even have energy to write this, as true solo parenting leaves me blubbering in the corner by bedtime).
Holy cow I'm surprised the gods in charge of guarding parentheses from abuse have not come and struck me down.
Annnnnnnyway, the point is, I am STRONG now so I said to Bryan, said I, "Dear husband, please book yourself the [short-ish] trip of your dreams and I will handle the rest. Depend on me." So he is at Vail. He loves it there. (The man started skiing at age three and - no joke - the first time I saw him come down a ski hill I did not quite believe it was him, as he is quite graceful on skis. Only on skis. He would tell you himself that his dancing is an embarrassment. But on the slopes he's quite impressive.)
And because - wonder of wonders - no one in the household is sick at this exact moment, and because my mother is here to help (She is like a human Roomba. I can't believe the volume of chore-doing she manages just... walking around. It's astounding.) I am doing prettttttty well. It's good. Thursday evening will be here before I know it. I'm not even really counting the hours.
2. Hey, look at that! Time for television and ice cream sandwiches.
In less than 48 hours I'll be doing this with Bryan on the couch next to me again.
(Okay. I lied about the not counting hours part.)
3. Sleep is good. Relaxing is good. Balancing the two is nearly impossible when you're a parent of small children.
But someday I'll have plenty of sleep time and plenty of relaxation time and then I'll MISS the small children. I'm pretty sure. That's what they say, anyway.
Yeah okay it's probably true.
(I cannot for the life of me figure out how to post this photo right side up. You get the idea anyway. Linus under the green blanket. Blaise's black eye is not permanent.)