a summary
Oh, hey. I used to write this blog, right?
I don’t know. I’m in a funk. I think about not writing, because who the heck wants to read I really just want another baby every day? I looked at a picture of a newborn today and just yearned. I imagine ways to have another.
I could write about…the new job? Not really. It’s fine. Kinda nice to use my professional brain, but I’m also wiped at the end of the day. Oh, and the building has a cricket problem. I’m okay with a cricket or two, but this is a straight up flock. Creepy dead, half-dead crickets. And the kids like to chase them to make them hop. Eeeeeee.
I attended the RESOLVE Night of Hope and got to wear one of Sherri Shepherd’s super shiny shoes. They haven’t posted the pictures online. Bummer. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
I guess I’m just here. Busy. Living this life, feeling guilt about still wanting more. Someone asked me if I cry every day about not having another…not at all. I don’t. I’ve shed too many tears – I’m too resigned. Or too scarred. Or I know life could be so, so much worse.
We took some portraits on Saturday. I can’t wait for the proof album to be ready. BabyHope had a blast (finally!) on the shoot, and I think we got some good ones. Perfect for the new house. That will be ready when they damn well say it will.
That’s that, folks. Oh, there’s more. I just won’t burden you with too much awesomeness all at once.
Hold My Hope 
I can understand that you could write a post about yearning just about every day. It’s ok to want more.
A flock of crickets? Well, if that’s the worst part of the job, sounds ok.
Housebuilding always takes longer than planned, it seems. I’m glad not to have first hand experience.
That’s the place I am in right now. I can write about how I want to have another one and how I think about it a lot but at the same time I’m ok because even though I want more, I am a parent and still get to do most things parents get to do. Lather, rinse and repeat.