It's a good day for the baby to be napping, Sister to be at her dad's, Husband to be out running errands, and me to be sitting in front of the computer sipping hot chocolate. What I ought to be doing is hauling firewood from the huge, damp pile in the corner of the backyard to a dry spot on the porch. If the "wintry mix" of precipitation that the weather forecasters have been threatening us with ever materializes then I'll be sorry I didn't. Just now, though, I'm enjoying a bit of peace that doesn't include any sort of cleaning, laundry folding, emailing to Brownie parents, or firewood hauling. Very, very rare for me.
I'm feeling a little less like an insecure harpie today and more like my regular, even-keeled self. I took Beth's advice and just came out and asked Husband last night why the hell he was looking up his ex-girlfriend and did he contact her. He had not, of course, gotten in touch with her and I know he never would. But she's just published another book, he told me, which naturally does not help with my just-under-the-surface angst about being only a stay-at-home mom. I'm working on that.
The nice thing about being 35, though, is that I've finally got some damn perspective. And here it is: This is my life. I am making it and living it and it really is a lovely life. A bit full just now of poopy-diaper changing and servicing the needs of 2 demanding young girl children, but lovely for all that, too.
In keeping with the introspective theme here, I'll disclose that I spent all last week mentally drafting my retirement post. I had decided, after hurting the feelings of a close friend with a flippant mention of her daughter's eating habits, that this blog really wasn't what I'd meant it to be. I had become too concerned with entertaining an audience out there and less with just recording daily life here, journal-style, as my own personal reference guide. This is a big part of why I've kept journals since I was 10 years old. The stories in your past shift each time you tell them to someone else. If you write it down when it happens, though, it's like a compass you can pull out when you need it. I've been surprised many times when I've gone back into my old journals to look something up and been able to see how much my story to others had been distorted from the original over the years.
I'll stop trying to entertain now. I'm going to make the switch to journal-keeping here, and if it gets to where I don't want anyone reading it anymore then I'll make it completely private. I'll see how it goes.