I'll Never Write a Novel

The Memoir of a Personal Essayist OR Confessions of a Theatre Widow

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Now that's funny

So, six months ago I posted a comment declaring, "I'm back!" I then proceeded to disappear for half a year. I could tell you I planned it as sarcasm but I would be lying.

I had a baby, actually, which is totally blogworthy. Only, I was so wrapped up in living it that I didn't take time to write about it. I often said, "Ooh I should blog about this." But I didn't. I will try to get back to those gems another day. We'll see how that goes.

In any case, today's inspiration is actually my friend, Jill. We snuck into a little email conversation through a group conversation and I asked how she was doing. She had to run, so couldn't write much, but sent me to her blog for a quick update in the meantime. Now, you go: http://www.fecklessessentials.com/

Wow! Jill's honesty, thoughtfulness, intellect, fortitude, passion and fabulousness came right through from these world wide webs. I felt like I was keeping up with Jill, but moreover, learning from her. I have no grand delusions that my blog can be that awesome, but it's nice to be inspired.

I can't promise that I will keep writing regularly. We just have the here and now.

For now, I am writing in between moments of trying to get my daughter to stay asleep for her nap. I have been putting the pacifier in her mouth every couple minutes, but I know she's tired and I hope she'll be out for a bit. It doesn't help that there is thunder and lightning rocking the sky outside. The rain is pouring and I can actually hear it all through the baby monitor as well as in real life. It's really quite lovely, except for the crying that's now wailing in the monitor. Ah, motherhood.

Maybe she can't sleep because she's got a mama-inflicted wound on her hand. I was trimming her pinkie nail last night and, voila, I trimmed a little pinkie finger, too. It was awful. She cried for a little while, but not long. But the bleeding, aaacckk, the bleeding, went on an on. There was blood on the jammies, blood on the sheets, blood on the toys. I called my own mom and confessed I was a bad mother. She, of course, confirmed that I am not. Every mom I have spoken to about this sympathized that the feeling is hideous. C'mon, baby blood is hideous. The only person who told me that everything was fine and not to worry about it was my one sister without kids yet (bless her). She was trying to be nice and helpful, I know. I told her I promised her I will just sympathize with her when it happens in her home down the road. Now I have to hold to that promise since I put it in writing. The Babes is doing better today (the baby bleeding has ceased), but it really breaks my heart to look at her pinkie. Aagh.

Now I have to tend to the totally awake girl, who never did nap. It's time for, something, so I need to focus on figuring out what!


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