Dear Bloggy Blog,
I’m sorry friend. You
have been neglected, it’s true. There
are a number of reasons for this; some good, some not so good. My son turned one and has turned into a
mess-making machine of a monster. His
idea of home sweet home is having as many items possible on floor level and
watching Mommy step on them. He laughs
uproariously when we play hide and seek and shrieks uncontrollably at the
bath. He runs through the house with
toilet paper flying behind him, like those message things hanging off the back
of airplanes at the beach. He is no
longer fit for public consumption, unless you don’t mind him toddling around
restaurants flirting with all women over the age of 60 and begging for food
from anybody. He is also completely,
100% adorable. Basically the most
gorgeous kid on the planet. Just when I
think I can’t stand the crud level in my house for one more second he
amazes me with a huge smile, special hug, or new trick. The Adventure of James is more terrifying and
wonderful than I ever could have imagined.
It’s also exhausting.
My interest in blogging has led me to read other’s work more
in the past few months. This has been
most enjoyable, but also discouraging, as the inevitable comparisons niggle the
back of my brain. To be completely
candid, I haven’t blogged because I’m not as funny as I think, not as witty as him,
or have as expansive a vocabulary as her.
I started blogging because I needed an outlet at work, and writing
helped that. Entering the realm of
competitive blogging is dumb. Not for
me. Must put these thoughts behind
me. Any suggestions?
Bloggy, I’ve started a new job. And have had several part-time, “just this
once” opportunities that have ended up being not just this once. It’s great to network with the musicians in
this fine city. I’m loving teaching some
very talented students. And performing
brings me to life in a certain way nothing else does. But it takes me away from home and what was a
routine just a few short months ago. I’m
fighting to figure out when it’s best to make music (and $!!) and preserve that
huge part of my life, and when to say ‘no’ because finding childcare and
balancing everything is way too stressful to be worth it.
Additionally, it’s winter.
In Rochester. Which sucks. I mean, falling snow is beautiful, and there’s
nothing better than having your family in for the day with snow, soup on the stove,
and light jazz in the background. But
snow in Rochester means you aren’t at home, because this city refuses to stop
for inclement weather. It means you have
to drive in it, exist in it, dig out from it, and do so like it’s just another
day. When I was in college this didn’t
bother me very much. I think I was too
busy with music to notice. But since I’ve
been married I notice. And I don’t like
it. Every dreary, gloomy February that
rolls around I start thinking, “I can’t live here another year.” It’s much easier to hide under fleece
blankets and glaze over watching Gilmore Girl marathons than acknowledge its
soul-sucking existence. I am more than
ready for spring. And being depressed
about it is the pits.
So, there are some of my excuses dear blog. But if you wade through all of that you can
see, on the other side, that I have posted today. I did it!
Here’s to a few more in 2013, and to the sun coming out sometime in
the next 3 months. Please.
 |
| This kid, and his daddy, keep me going. |
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