It's been too long. And while it is my hope to be back full force, back to writing at least once a week if not more, the truth of the matter is that life is busy. I can't always find the time to write and when I do, I don't always have something to say.
That's not to suggest that I'm not getting angry at situations or that I don't have a question for the cosmos or that I've found a way to keep my head on straight, because believe me, it's still a daily search. No, it's just that time gets sucked away... and chores/errands take precedence over blogging... life's fires/dramas override daily tasks... and motherhood trumps, well, it all.
This summer has been a time of growth. Not just for me (or my waistline) but for my daughter. She is, whether I try to wish it away or not, becoming a young lady. This was the summer of "the talk" and training bras, of talking back and one tearful tiff. And I wasn't thrilled.
We found time for fun, lots of it! But I, the eternal pessimist, could only see her pulling away, asserting more independence, and me "having to" let her.
We spent a good chunk of the summer at my parents lake house - a place I have fond childhood memories of and a place where many of my own childhood friends now summer with their kids. In this "safe haven" I took the opportunity to let out some slack on my daughter's tight reigns. I left her home alone a few times while I ran a quick errand. I let her play outside on the beach with her friends while I was still having dinner inside with mine. And my father and stepmother nearly passed out when she asked to use the bathroom in a restaurant and I did not accompany her; in fact, there was complete silence at the table until she returned and for all their anxiety, mine was 10 fold.
But I can't hold tight forever. She has to learn not only how to do things on her own, but that she can. I want her to be independent. I want her to be confident. And now is the right time. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
A week from tomorrow, she will start fourth grade. A big year for most, bigger for her since she will be starting at a new school. I told you a few months ago that she was accepted into a special program through our public school system. It has the horrible name of "Center for the Highly Gifted". I don't think she's gifted; I think she's intelligent and quick to learn, and she loves to learn. "Gifted" in my book suggests socially awkward or competitive and obnoxious. She is none of these things but the other students may be. It will certainly be a learning experience in more ways than one.
I've said it before that the start of a new school year has always been my "New Year's Day". It's always signaled for me a reboot, a rebirth, a reassessment of life and how to live it. I've still got the same struggles on my plate - weight, work, worrying about my daughter's future, wondering if I'll ever find inner peace.
Contemplating life's big questions, or at least trying to find the time to...
... all this, and I still can't find a new pair of black driving mocs to replace the ones I wore through.
Well, c'mon now. You didn't think it was all profound musings on the universe, did you? Sometimes, just finding the right pair of back-to-school shoes makes all the difference ;-)