I have been out of it for about the past month. Between the holidays, Trampoline’s move, and my own work there has just been too much to do. Toss in an adorable toddler who is more and more aware of too much multi-tasking by mom, a rapidly passing pregnancy and an attempt at having some sort of relationship with a husband and you have one thinly stretched mama.

I have known that blogging would feel good.
Be centering.
Deliriously distracting.

But we don’t always do what we know is good for us now do we?
Even in this month of lofty resolutions.

Now I have five minutes, or rather I am making five minutes and you know what?

None of what I really have to say or vent is going to do anyone any good.
Suffice it to say I am just one unspoken sentence past being able to write anything constructive.

Petty. Ultimately unsatisfying, yet totally human.

I wish I could go and sweat and grunt this all out on a track or in a gym. I worked out at the Civic Center last week and was swiftly reminded of my increasing responsibility to take it easy.

Panting and pregnancy aren’t a great combination.
Alcohol is out.
Screaming would scare the baby.
Punching stuff just makes you feel dumb.
Talking it out hasn’t worked.
Avoidance is more work than it’s worth.

What does this leave?


Little bit of elbow grease, a nice citrusy solvent of some sort, rags, a sponge, and the wide open expanse of my mind to just hammer away at my angst and the grime.

I may actually enjoy this.

So, my apologies to anyone who has checked in for an update, first for the absence, second for my return. The non-whining void was probably better.

I’ll work on getting over this hump. I hope everyone else is enjoying their January and the truly odd weather we’ve been having everywhere.