What happened?

I haven’t written a proper update here for quite some time. I’d like to blame life, but there is really no reason I couldn’t pop up a quick link or picture, or at least as much info as I burden my micro-blogging social sites with.

I’ve been stuck, you see. To be fair, I’m still stuck, but at least now I can see a bit better what’s going on, and there’s only one way to fix it – to wrench myself loose, instead of waiting for something to fix itself. Amazingly, no matter how much hoping and wishing you have, things usually take some sort of effort to get to where you want them to be, don’t they?

So, here goes.

We lost this guy last year, quite unexpectedly.

Fezzik in a bag
RIP, you loveable jerkface.

In addition to being an emotional blow, it was a big financial blow at a bad time. Add to that trouble at Nyte’s job, lots of red flags in that area, and the realization that there was no way the big project he was working on (and hoping to turn into something very profitable) was going to even get off the ground, and even if it did he had the sneaking suspicion that certain agreements regarding the distribution of profits and credit would not be honored. That led to a job hunt of some semi-desperation, which led to several trips to distant places for interviews, including Silicon Valley. We moved (NOT to Silicon Valley, but to another state), it was very stressful, I got very sick the day before the move, the landlord is a flake and didn’t have anything ready for us, and the list just goes on and on.

Very good friends and relatives helped us get our crap and kids and cats where we needed them to be. The very next morning, the Podling woke up, got himself dressed and decided to wander off outside by himself, and predictably, got himself quite lost. I hadn’t had coffee yet, the decongestant I was relying on (too heavily, I should add) to get myself out of bed and start making sense of the unbelievable mess hadn’t kicked in yet, and it was a good ten minutes before we realized he wasn’t in the house. Cue two frantic parents running through the new neighborhood, hardly knowing the area any better than the 3-year-old, one of us sans shoes. We found him, suffice to say, and that afternoon childproofed every damn door in the new rented condo.

Life continued. We made the new place work, even though it’s kind of crummy, too small, and we still have too much stuff. We made it through kids being sick, us being sick, stress with the new job, a ridiculously hot spring and summer (and fall and winter), my post-partum hormones and adjustments, financial and emotional challenges. Nothing serious, mind, but still challenging. Trying (and failing) to get healthy. Trying (and succeeding) to win NaNoWriMo. Dealing with parenthood, married life, and wondering who we are now, as individuals (or maybe that’s just me?). Meeting new people, getting back in touch with old friends. Living. Sort of. Surviving, really. One kid turns a year old. The other one will shortly turn four. The remaining cats, in the meantime, are quickly approaching eight.

Now what? Where do we find time to be everything we need to be? I’m not even talking about what we want to be, but what we NEED to be. Everybody seems to have an idea of what the should be, but nobody has a satisfactory answer about how to get there. Have you ever noticed that?

I’m noticing it lately. Keenly.


About crankyfacedknitter

We are a motley collection of cats, cranks, nerds, geeks, hobbyists, humorists, writers, caffeine addicts and one knitter. We have many offspring, but admittedly, most of them are imaginary.
This entry was posted in Navel gazing, Parenting, Them Kids, Time To Be Me, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to What happened?

  1. katkoe says:

    hang in there gal! it does get better, we went through a similar bent about 3 or 4 years ago. Try to enjoy the little ones they change so fast and don’t be too hard on yourself there’s a reason it took a village to raise children back in the day. *hug*

    • Thanks. I’m so reluctant to accept the village’s help. I just assume they’re effing tired of raising everyone else’s effing kids, so I don’t like to bother them. Not that I’m even sure who “they” are. You know what I mean. It’s getting better, it really is. It’s just hard to remember that some days.

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