I generally disapprove of this sort of post… Mostly because it seems so common to have several of them in a row, promising to get back into blogging, apologizing for a hiatus, etc. But this one is mostly for me, just writing as catharsis and as I type, I’m not sure if I will hit publish. The last 11 months have been hard. There’s been a lot of good, a lot of bad and a lot in between. I had no qualms before they arrived about hitting my 30s. I was happy to be finally leaving the awkwardness of being in my 20s with three kids in tow behind me (especially in a place where new moms tended to be closer to 40 than 20.) But our collective 30s (Kyle and mine, I mean) started with a bang on the last day he was 29 and it’s been a wild ride since then. One which, I think, I hope, is slowing down a bit into a rhythm, a pattern we can at least follow, a form emerging from the abstraction of illness, death, new life, new countries, transatlantic flights, visas and residence permits, travel and general stress that have existed on top of the usual growing pains of a young family.
So here’s to quiet, simple, routine and new adventures in Merry Ole.
“(It)is brought home to me: it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.” — — J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (as spoken by Bilbo Baggins)