You know how sometimes an old friend will cross your mind and you’ll think “I’ll write! I’ll call! I miss them!” and then life runs its normal course, and time slips away, and it is months (or – gasp! – years) later and you start to think, “Gee, it might be awkward if I called now,” or “It is probably too late to respond to that e-mail, anyway”?
And you know this is silly, because whenever an old friend calls or writes to YOU, out of the blue, you are more than thrilled to hear from them?
It starts to feel like it is somehow too late to get back in touch – or in this case – getting back to blogging.
But I’m getting back in touch.
How have you been?
It’s hard to avoid the use of the word “busy” here. I’m tempted to say that my life has been busy, that I’ve been busy having and raising babies, working, living life. But I don’t really like that word. It seems rushed, harried, un-fun. My life has been full. And mostly fun.
Pistachio arrived in late-January. My dearest third. My baby boy. He is a delicious – a scrumptious! – little human.
Life with three children under the age of four? It is… well, GOOD. (What, were you expecting me to say “busy”?) Three small, loud, needy, hysterical (in both senses of the word) people do require much time, love and attention. But that lovely third child has made my days feel more like a dance than a tennis match. I struggle to keep the beat sometimes. But three means it is no longer either/or, him/her, you/me. Three means us. I am, surprisingly, less stressed than I was with two. Perhaps this is due to the new balance, but perhaps it is me letting go of things, too. Whatever the reason, three is good. So good.
So here I am. Back on track. Back at it. A return to my Sarky self.
I hope you are well. I’ll be in touch. No really, I will.