Don’t put your cheese on the cat…

and other stuff I never thought I’d be saying.

In a few long months there will be a new person tipping the balance of our lives here at the house.  And although I use the word “balance” loosely, I know that life as we know it will again change drastically and what semblance of order I have established here might be in danger.  The halfway mark of this pregnancy came and went and my new analogy for this life is a hike.  I know you’re version of a hiker probably involves more fitness and less “gut”, but stay with  me.  I’ve reached the the apex of my journey into motherhood with two kids and I am looking at the rest of the path with a little trepidation and a lot of hope.

On one hand, I’ve made it.  With a butt-load of support from a few friends and family and maybe a few milligrams of legally prescribed assistance from Dr. Quiet.  I am comfortable here.  I know what I’m doing most of the time and can successfully fake it to fill in the gaps.  So now is the end of my trek with these two sweet babies and the beginning of the long trip back home.  With a little extra in my pack I will begin a new path.  Destination: rest-of-life.  With an armload of children and no regrets. 

I’ve missed blogging.  A day doesn’t go by when I don’t catch myself  saying,  I need to write again.  There are plenty of excuses and I’m fine with any and all of them.  This page is here.  And when something ridiculous or miraculous happens, I think of the space and the cursor and “life” and I start putting things in order of importance.  Some day I’ll get to those notes I made about the little dude pinning my nipple in-between the pillow-top mattress and his unbelievably sharp elbow.  When the time is perfect and quiet, I’ll tell you about my fears of losing the Old Dog.  Or how my sister-in-law and brother-in-law are getting their second chance. 

For now,  the little dude is standing on the coffee table holding a flashlight and I can’t be sure, but something smells poopish.