OK, so I'm tired of not blogging. I can't tell you how many times I've had wonderful posting ideas and simply didn't feel as though I had enough time to do it. But I've got to. I LIKE blogging. I like posting. I like COMMENTS! But when you don't post, you don't get comments. And when you don't post, you don't remember all the cool things your children have done. And when you don't post, you don't get some things off your chest. And when you don't post, you don't think to take candid pictures of your children, because, well, you don't need to put pictures on the blog you're not posting to!!
So, this is what I'm gonna try to do: I'm gonna TRY (notice the capital letters, hence the STRESS), to post a couple times a week, or even every day, even if it's just a little smidgen. A little tid bit. A little bit o' nothin'. And if it doesn't look all nice and pretty and fluent and sensical, well then, that's life. This blogging thing is something I just want to do, and if I have to go against my own stupid neurotic tendancies in order to get it done, then that's what I have to do.
It's a growing pain, but I can deal with it.
And speaking of growing, Gabe turned 4 weeks today. He doesn't look all that different to me, but I gawk at him every day. So I'm sure I wouldn't notice much change. He's definately getting heavier. THAT I can feel.Libby will be 4 tomorrow. We went out today to let her pick out some presents. I thought this would take some of the stress out of trying to figure out what to get her. Not exactly what happened. There was too much to choose from, so she picked the very first thing she saw, even though it really wasn't something she'd want. When it came down to it, I picked out the things I thought she would want. No different than if she were never there. Oh. At least I didn't have to wrap anything.....she wanted to use her new "stash" right away, and that didn't bother me in the least.
Speaking of "We," my Mom is in town for a week. I cannot TELL you how wonderful this is for me. Mom (and often Dad too) comes around these here parts roughly twice a year, and I get treated like a queen. They are such a help, and spoil me rotten, and we just ENJOY ourselves. We're talking Scrabble tournaments here, people! But basically, Mom and I are two peas in a pod, and I just love her to death, and my kids do too, and sometimes a girl just misses her Mommy.....
Especially when she only has one more day to relish her 20's, and 30 sounds awful scary. I can't be a kid anymore. How do you change your personality to fit into the mold of an adult? 30-year-olds are ADULTS. I am not. I don't really want to be. I don't THINK that way. How can I justify hanging out with my teenage friends when I'm in my 30's? I'm serious. I enjoy the young people. I don't want to get too old to be considered "fun." I don't want to get too old to BE fun. (And don't get the wrong idea here: I have as many friends in their 40s-80s as I do 13-30)
Man, I just don't want to get OLD. Is that too much to ask? My brain didn't grow up with my body. And herein lies the rub. I'm a kid at heart. A kid who doesn't want to have to start THINKING about their heart. Catch my drift?
Any condolences from the peanut gallery would be mighty appreciated.