Back From Rehab

Some of the two people who read this blog (hi, Mom!) have wondered why I am not updating more. It’s a combination of things, really. I’ve been laying low – as low as a mother of a spastic toddler can lay – with a few minor but nonetheless nagging health issues. At the same time, the Canuck and I have both started very challenging new jobs and are recalibrating to find balance again. My new position involves much more writing than my previous one, with some overlap on the parenting issues I blather on about here, so I scratch the itch to write all day long. When I get home at night, now I scratch the American Idol itch instead.

But most of all, I think it’s just all too much. I mean that a little bit in the negative sense of feeling overwhelmed, but mostly in the most glorious sense. Life with Muffin is just so chocked full. It’s progressing at a rate I can’t keep up with, slipping through the fingers I use to type. I mean, she winks now – or tries to, in a manner that suggests a momentary eye twitch. She announces, “jump” and then gets about 2mm of vertical. She counts to ten, with her own flair: one-y, two-y, three-y. She adores speed bumps, ketchup, bracelets, Kraft singles and toilet paper. In the morning she gives me a yogurty goodbye kiss right on the lips.

It’s hard to feel like I can even do her justice.



Can you actually burst from pride? If so, we might have a real mess on our hands.