November is here, and with it comes NaBloPoMo. It is time to really crack down on posting every day. I don't always have a ton of time, energy, or mental clarity, so I can't say I will use each day's writing prompt, but I'll try to cover them when I can. This is a good exercise to get me back in the habit of blogging. I miss it terribly. I miss my peeps. I don't have a lot of peeps anymore.
What is Your Favorite Part About Writing?
I think it's that I can just monologue. I talk to my husband about everything, but sometimes I have to be careful. I have to mind his feelings. I have to not sound so crazy. I have to pause for questions and opinions. I don't mind any of those things, but they slow a person down and sometimes derail my thoughts. When I write, it's more stream-of-consciousness. I can just go and explore my own mind and stick it on the page. So what if I sound crazy? If feelings get hurt, I can explain my thoughts. Questions and opinions come in the comment box, long after I've finished saying what I needed to say. It's a better outlet than therapy for me because I can just say what I need to, go down the rabbit hole, and find out what's really on my mind. It leads to a lot of introspection for me.
Em is growing with insane speed. She's so big all of a sudden. She'll be 3 months old on Nov 10. Sometimes, I think, "Only three months?" It feels like I've had her forever. I asked J just last night, "Were we alive before she was born?" She's such a fixture in our lives. I know her schedule, her needs, what makes her laugh, what scares her. I can have the worst day and then she smiles at me, and it's okay. Other times, I think, "Has it been three months already?" It seems like just yesterday I was in the hospital, holding my squishy newborn. I was in shock that she was ours, that we were taking her home, that there would be no TPR to wait on or judge to approve our parenthood.
Monk is amazing. His conversational skills have absolutely exploded. And he has this way of cocking his head to the side and nodding sometimes, this weird reassuring gesture when he speaks. I asked him this morning what he wanted for breakfast, and he said he wasn't hungry. I said, "No cereal? Yogurt? Pop tart?" He thought about it and said, "Well, maybe I could just have some candies." Nodding his cocked head the whole time. He's also started to call things beautiful. "It's just so byoo'ful." Love it. He's started using the phrase my mother has been waiting for... "But Mooooommmmm." My mom is thrilled. I am amused. I'm sure that will wear off with a few more days of it. He's like a 12 year old in a 3 year old body.
I'm kind of bummed about the approaching holiday season. From the time I was born, every Christmas Eve was spent at Mamaw's house. After she became bed-bound, we moved the festivities into her room. Pictures from last year include a very pale and sick Manda sitting by her bed as we opened gifts. I was just barely pregnant and entirely sick. She was so happy for us. This will be the first holiday season without her. I have no clue what we'll do on Christmas Eve. Miss her. That's what we'll do. I'll miss her and think about how much I wish my daughter could have known her and wonder if she can see Em from where she is and I'll cry. Does heartbreak like that ever truly heal, or do you just get used to the pain?