Well, I'm still here. But my blog sits neglected and dusty in a corner somewhere. I didn't even dust it off to reminisce and ponder the fact that my baby has now been alive for half of a year. And if I couldn't be bothered to write about that, well then, it's possible this blog is done. But then, a night creeps in like tonight, when everything is quiet and I wonder...what is going on in the blogosphere? What is going on with those wonderful women who saw me through my pregnancy and those first oh so difficult weeks of Owen's life?
So, I'm going to write a bit, and see what happens.
Tonight is quiet. B is up in LA, staying overnight for work. Owen went to bed early. So I am listening to the emptiness of the air conditioning. There is so much to say and yet...it all will seem mundane if I type it into words. You can't describe chubby thighs wobbling as they quiver to standing. Or how intently he tries to learn each piece of the world. Or the way he melts into my neck when I pick him up in the middle of the night. How do I tell you these things? How do I tell you about him laughing in the pool today, or him crying when he falls down, or his giggles as he touches my neck while he nurses to sleep? Either you know...and you get it...or it is just mine. My little mundane moments of motherhood.
I am rambling. Maybe this is why I don't blog anymore. I'm not the same, systematic person I was before. During my pregnancy, I diligently categorized each symptom, trimester, and important event. I explained it in linear, detailed form. And now, while there is so much to report, my brain seems to not work that way any more. Instead, I think in moments. Owen crawling across the floor at five and a half months. Owen sick with a cold, sleeping on my chest. Owen pulling himself to standing for the first time. Owen taking his first tentative steps, cruising along the couch. Owen, Owen, Owen.
I live in these moments. I live in yoga pants. I live sitting on the floor. I live watching. Watching him.
How did this happen? Where am I? Where is the person who worked so hard at her career and took so much pride in her identity as an intellectual, driven woman? Where is the woman with a sexual, feminine side? Where is the person who brushed her hair and painted her toenails? Where is the person who thought about things other than...him?
I could take this post into a long commentary on being a stay at home mom. But...the cat just settled down on my lap and I smiled. I smiled and realized I don't really care enough to write about it. Why not? Because I am just happy. Happy in this moment. Happy in these moments. For the first time that I can remember since being a little girl, I don't...yearn for things, worry about things, agonize over things, dread things...I just am. Just happy. How amazing is that?
Not saying life isn't hard. Because I am ridiculously exhausted, physically and emotionally. I crave time to myself. I miss things. But...for now, this is where I am. And I know it's not forever. I know I will go back to having multiple facets to my identity. But for now, this is It.