First, let me just acknowledge that it's been a long time since I wrote. Then, let me acknowledge that I am not too sorry about this because the baby is happy and healthy, and that accomplishment has absorbed the majority of my time in the eight weeks since she was born.
So, another reason for my lapse in blog updates has been because most of my days have sort of started to run together into one, long, bleary-eyed day that is punctuated by fluctuating amounts of sleep that can't really be called 'nights'. I have entire expanses of time in which I can't identify one thing that I've done, said, eaten, or written. So when a moment of time appears in which I feel somewhat coherent, I will take some time to write. This is one of those moments.
The final excuse for my blogging absence is that there really hasn't been anything funny to write about. I could go on and on about the baby--how cute she is while kicking her little legs in the bath, how she loves to pee on the changing table, how I am routinely covered in a fine film of baby vomit, how she started to smile about 10 days ago and it's been the happiest 10 days of my life--but I am so obsessively in love with this baby that those things would be all I ever write about, and I would lose what remains of my readership. I'm telling you, I would write so persistently, unwaveringly about the baby, in so much unnecessary detail, that even her adoring grandparents would roll their eyes and think to themselves, "Dude, give it a rest."
There's also something distinctly unfunny about having a baby. The things that I might have laughed about in other peoples' blogs about their babies are not the least bit funny to me. What? They cried when their babies got their 2-month vaccinations? That's funny! Their baby won't remember and will be just fine! But when my baby was lying on a cold table, naked and screaming, it was not funny. She may have been just fine after a moment, but I wasn't. And it wasn't (and still isn't) funny. When the guy on the radio was talking about his wife's weeping response to putting their baby in daycare, it was a funny story. But to me, lying in bed at 3AM, worried sick about turning over the most important person in the world to me to strangers so I can go to my detestable job for 8 hours a day, it is anything but funny.
So, that's how it's been over here. Poor Chris. Send nice thoughts his way. He is handling my new-mom insanity with about as much patience, love, and humor as anyone ever could. Sometimes I stop paying attention to how awesome everything is because I'm caught up in something negative (I clipped the baby's nails the other day and accidentally nicked her tiny fingertip, which caused more crying for the two of us, for example). But then sometimes, I take inventory and realize I have an amazing husband, a beautiful, happy baby, and healthy family all over the world who loves the three of us, and there is so much to be grateful for that my attention is pulled in the right direction until the next moment of parental clumsiness.
But enough about that. The other thing that has been going on recently--really, the only other thing of any interest--is that Chris gave me a sewing machine for my birthday and I am trying to make things. I have a history of poor follow-through when it comes to, oh, everything, but especially crafty things like this. That's why there is an unfinished painting of a squirrel in our closet, and the reason that the only thing I have ever knitted has been scarf after scarf after wonkily-knitted scarf. But I am determined to get good at this new hobby. First, though, I have to do it "the Christina way". This basically entails jumping into something without really paying attention to the way others have successfully done it for years, failing or at least falling short of my own expectations, then resigning myself to the fact that I need to follow the directions, at least for a little while. And that's why there's a half-sewn tube of fabric sitting next to the sewing machine which will probably never become the skirt I'd like it to be. But someday...someday you'll see me wearing something I've made. No, not another hole-y scarf. I mean something I've sewn.
OK, hope all is well with you!
xo
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