I've been procrastinating with this blog, for many reasons, but mainly because I don't really think that daily life is that interesting that you, my audience, would really want to hear about it. Gwyneth's no longer a baby, so there's not the pull of adorable sweet pudgy baby faces (although in my opinion, curly top's face has gotten even more adorable), the first smile, the first steps, the first words, etc. to keep my blog full of a mom's delight. But I don't want to give up. I want to keep plugging along.
I read blogs a lot, I'm ashamedly a bit addicted to a few. They always seem so happy, so full, so much content about complete contentedness. For the moment, I don't have a bunch of warm updates to make my blog a joyride of reading. Of course life is full of up and downs, and even the people that paint an idyllic life on their blogs have their ugly moments, but do they really want to share them. It appears not.
I'm considering breaking the mould of the blogosphere and posting some of the reality.
Moving to Northern Ireland, isn't as romantic as it sounds. There, I said it. It's true. Now to be fair to myself and my new country-mates, I never thought it would be. Sure it's green, and I've seen loads of rainbows...and rain, but there are no leprechauns or pots of gold for general merriment. It is an adventure, but one of navigating new supermarkets and trying to find sugar (by the tea of course, which, by the way is no where near the baking products), learning to use the National Health Service so Gwyneth can see a doctor in the ER after she dents her head on the sidewalk (I must give a plug for socialized medicine, bravo!), and trying to find a job (when apparently you're not even qualified to work at XTravision, a division of Blockbuster). It's hard. It's stressful. It's not romantic, at least in the midst of it. Maybe when I look back on it when I'm 80, I'll change my mind. It takes time though, it's all the hardship involved with total change. Northern Ireland is full of rich treasure. I know it. I just need to have the gumption to keep digging, keep a fresh perspective and I'll find it.
Now about Gwyneth.
The dear Lord knows we love her so, but wow, the terrible twos have come upon us early, and they are terrible. They are no joking matter. They are full of shrieks, screams, wails, and the like. Lets just say our patience is growing by leaps and bounds. It will unnerve the confidence of any good parent. It probably doesn't help that we've got a particularly strong-willed child on our hands. We still have a few magical moments with her from time to time, but the need to hire sitters for some time away is more desperate than it ever used to be. Oddly enough, when we have sitters we always get the report back of how she was an "angel" and a "wee dote" and "didn't cry once." It's time for her to get out, to socialize a bit, which is in the works. She will be going to a childminder or a day nursery twice a week. Maybe she can leak out all her frustration there and then we can come home and experience the angel in there.
I did find a job, which begins in January. I'm really quite excited about it. I will only be working 2 days a week, albeit, 2 very long days. I'll be able to get out of the house, have some adult conversation and do something useful for the general public. I think it will make life feel a bit more balanced. I sure hope so.
Will all of that, I have a headache and am on my way to take a nap. There, it's not all pretty, but it's real. Sometimes really good, and sometimes really bad, and everything in between. It's life.
