- Last August I was suffering one of my restless-energy spells, and told Trevor I was taking off. I put on my running shoes, and went for the first 'run' since I suffered through jogging class in high school. To my astonishment, I loved it. It helped a lot with my restlessness. I have run nearly every day since, and now I'm running at least a mile a day. I also started going to yoga at the library, and loved it so much I wanted to take it further. So I joined Sweaty Chix Fitness. Now I do yoga three times a week, and run. How do I have the time, with so many children, you may ask? Running is something I can actually accomplish with my children. I put Eloise and Hazel in the jogging stroller and run to preschool. Yoga is conveniently at 8:30 pm, after the children are all in bed, and only down the street. Unlike reading, I can actually do these things with kids, and it feels good.
- After Napoleon died, Josephine Bonaparte wrote a letter to her daughter about her mourning and healing, and said: "A profound solitude would please me most." Ever since Eloise's birth I have been forced to interact and work with so many different people. I've had to learn to be assertive, and how to talk to hundreds of different people. None of it comes naturally. I hate talking on the phone, but I've had to make phone calls every day concerning Eloise. I hate the airlessness and colorlessness of hospitals, but have spent a lifetime's worth of time in them. Eloise still is not eating orally, and she won't for a long time to come. We have some problematic and serious issues to overcome in the coming years - which involve more surgeries, more hospital time, more phone calls, more nurses and doctors and socializing. But right now life is 'normalizing.' We have a good rhythm in our home again. I have a little bit of mental space. Now all I want to focus on is healing, and the best balm for me is 'profound solitude.' So I don't feel like writing.
- I was at the park today with all four girls. I brought my new book. I was strolling Eloise around, and a woman came up to me. "Is that Eloise?" I had no idea who this woman was. Turns out she works in the Utah Valley NICU, but had never been Eloise's nurse. She just knew all about her. I was friendly, and answered questions for a while about Eloise and her condition. But what I really wanted to do was read my book. I am so sick of talking about the complications in my daily existence - of Eloise's esophagus and surgeries and difficulties. I crave anonymity. After events like these, my upbringing as a military brat shines through and I feel like a move is long overdue. A new city. A new place. Where no one knows (or think they know) me and my life. So I don't feel like writing.
I thought I ought to explain my silence, so none of my readers wonder if, you know, I fell off a cliff or one of my children was in trouble. Because neither of those would be out of pace with our current existence!