A case of time flying without noticing it
While on vacation, alternating between knitting away and dipping my toes in the nearby lake, I realised that I hadn’t written anything here for a month. I began writing a post in my head:
July sort of disappeared, I didn’t know what to do with this space, thought of perhaps taking a little time off, and all of a sudden a month had gone by.
Only later, back in the city, did I realise that not one month had gone by, but nearly three. My last post was written in early May and now it is early August.
I believe this is the time to say: Welcome to the real world, the one where time flies by, life can’t be stopped and no one misses you.
While writing this I have to admit I still don’t know what I want to do with this space. I wonder if I should do something completely different somewhere else, or whether I should just stick with this one and see where it takes me.
Way back what I needed was a space to write about not being and not becoming pregnant. Then came the second line, the kid, and now we are living as a family of three going through ups and downs, trying our best to make the most of our days. Our daughter can be a tough cookie, but something in me refrains from writing about it. J can tell you how often I am inches from giving up and crying, but he can also tell you how often I look at our girl and then at him and tell him how much I love her. Our child is not the easiest nor the toughest. I hate hearing about the easy babies, I hate people not understanding our situation, but something in me tells me not to write about it here. I may not know what this space is for, but I do know what it is not for.
When I first considered blogging, a food blog was what I wanted. I didn’t start with Dooce and go from there. I began with Orangette and The Wednesday Chef and from there I got to the non-food blogs. But back in January of 2008 when I took off on this journey, food was not on my mind. Writing about great cookies or creme brulée disasters seemed far away from the life I was living. I must have been baking cookies, because I can’t remember ever not baking, but I have absolutely no idea how they turned out.
And once again my writing is about what began this blog and how it was different back then.
Some people travel a lot, some people write a lot, some people cook and take pictures of their meals and write great stories about it. I just try to get through the first five days of the week and then enjoy the weekend as much as I can. My daughter is in daycare 8 hours a day, my husband and I take turns picking her up and cooking dinner, we go to bed early, because if we stayed up, we would fall asleep on the couch. That is not interesting blog topics – at least in my opinion.
I still wonder if this place should morph into writing about the things I achieve, want to achieve. It’s the closest I come to an actual theme. I am married already, a mother already, an employee already so my quest for those things are long gone as themes. And yes, in case you’re wondering, this is me writing about not having anything to write about.
We leave for our two-week of American adventure in two months. We are scared about flying with a child, scared about her not wanting to drive for very long at a time, scared about being away from everything that has become a routine, everything that works. And we are looking forward to being away from it all.
I have wanted to go on this trip forever. I have dreamt of it in so many different ways, but never imagined I would be doing it with my husband and our (at that time) 15 months old daughter. But we are doing it and I feel rather proud of crossing the Atlantic and embark on a trip I used to imagine would be all about great American novels, The New Yorker and drinks every night while talking about the scenery. Frankly, I have no idea what our trip will be about, but we are doing it and that makes me extremely proud.