Pillows, nudity, and inside jokes.

I didn’t realize what an uproar not updating this blog as much as I used to would cause.  Obviously I’m not writing in here just to tick off my fan base.  Both of them. 

My sister just thrust a computer into my lap, promised to play with Rowan for a few minutes, and told me to write.  Putting me on the spot, and telling me it’s time to spew forth words full of wisdom and elegance is NOT the way to get me to perform.  I have a small case of performance anxiety.  And by small I mean a huge, whopping one.

I asked Rowan what I should write about and after much deliberation he suggested the riveting topic of pillows.  Now, I love a good pillow as much as the next guy, but as it turns out, I’m just not as enlightened on the subject as I thought. 

Kristi gently pointed out that I have yet to share the story of the time Grandma walked in on me getting dressed.  I haven’t talked about how I was standing there stark naked, and she kept talking about going out with her boyfriend, and that they were having cabbage soup for lunch, all the while I’m standing there, shivering, afraid to move, thinking that if I did, Grandma might notice that her granddaughter didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.  As amusing as that anecdote may be, I think I’ll just skip that one, and pretend it never happened.

It’s funny, as much as I have going on right now, I just don’t feel there is much to write about.  Not that anyone would care to read about, that is.  My life is just one large “you had to be there” kind of joke.  I went from a very pleasant, albeit, bland existence, to a colorful reality, that requires full participation every minute of every day. 

 I was momentarily caught off guard by how quickly everything changed.  Rowan took it the hardest though.  Moving is hard for anyone, let alone a VERY routine-oriented two year old.  Sure, it was a short-distance move, and he can visit Nana and Bapa and his old house whenever wants, but it’s not unlike a divorce.  Half of his stuff is still at his old house, in his old room.  His primary care givers are living in two separate houses, and his routine has been disrupted.  He’s starting to get the hang of things though, and every day he’s a little less clingy, and a little less whiney.  His resilience and adaptability are admirable.

Now that I have fulfilled my responsibilities as a blog owner, I am going to spend a few hours chasing Rowan and a soccer ball up and down the yard, soak up the brilliant sunshine, and be thankful for a life that I am so blessed and happy to live.

Yeah, I said it. 

I am happy.

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One thought on “Pillows, nudity, and inside jokes.

  1. write when you can 😉 no matter, we love you anyway!

    though it’s kind of funny to think of you standing as still as you possibly can, butt nekkid, hoping your grandma doesn’t realize that you’re in your birthday suit. She might try to lend you her bra! 🙂

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