(I am trying to get back in the habit of blogging regularly again. I have really slacked off since Sophie was born! I guess that is a good reason, but still... For me, the writing habit is of the "use it or lose it" variety. I apologize in advance if I am a bit random or rambling.)
Today is cleaning day. My first couple weeks back at work I was really good about keeping the house picked up and laundry kept up. That, unfortunately, didn't last long. So, today is cleaning day. I am really trying to stick to one room at a time but I keep getting so distracted! I have a ring sling, though, that helps me get more done when Sophie is awake and wanting Mommy instead of Daddy or big sister.
Thursday, we had a new roof put on our house. The week before I went back to work, Emma was on Spring Break and showed me some spots on her ceiling. Yep, water damage. We could have just had the spots repaired, but in a couple years would need a new roof entirely, so we just had that done all at once.
Not only was the roof old and deteriorating, our gutters were in horrid condition! Neither the roof nor the gutters were built properly when the house was built, so we are dealing with that damage now. Today we are getting all new gutters and soffit. We are also getting a leaf guard put in, so no more climbing to the roof to clean out the gutters.
It is so nice to have repairs done to the house. I have not been feeling the love for it lately. I joke about wanting the contractor from Holmes on Homes to visit, but really would prefer Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Eleven years in, we are finding out just how poorly our house was built 32 years ago, and it is wearing on the soul, that's for sure. I know "home" is what you make it, but when our house seems to be revolting against us... the home feeling just isn't as strong. We are slowly but surely getting the repairs done, and I hope soon we can work on improvements.
In the meantime, while the workers are working on the outside of the house, I'll work on the inside, making it once again "home."
A place for me to focus on creative writing, using prompts I love but not related to my larger work in progress. Any prompts from outside sources are linked in the post in which they are used.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
No more...
Two weeks ago, I had a procedure done that has made me sterile. Same principle as having my tubes tied, but non-invasive and not painful. It was a simple, quick, and easy procedure. (I even got to watch the screen along with the doctor!) This is definitely what I wanted, and I have no second thoughts or regrets.
However, for some reason I am a little sad. Sophie is the last baby in the house. There is no reason to hang on to her adorable little outfits once she outgrows them. The heirloom baby cradle will never be used by our little family unit again, until Emma is grown and has a little one of her own.
And for the life of me, I don't know why this makes me sad! I truly do not want to have more children. I am happy with our family the way it is. And honestly, financially and spatially we can't have another. We can't afford for me not to work, and childcare for three, one after school and two full-time, would be impossible. We'd need a larger house if we had another, also. Bigger house = bigger mortgage. Again, not possible.
Is this some innate biological feeling? Some ancient instinct saying "females must be able to produce!"?? A biological clock I never knew I had?? I mean, logically and rationally (and even 95% emotionally) I know without a doubt this was the right direction. But that tiny, hidden part of me thinks "what have I done?"
However, for some reason I am a little sad. Sophie is the last baby in the house. There is no reason to hang on to her adorable little outfits once she outgrows them. The heirloom baby cradle will never be used by our little family unit again, until Emma is grown and has a little one of her own.
And for the life of me, I don't know why this makes me sad! I truly do not want to have more children. I am happy with our family the way it is. And honestly, financially and spatially we can't have another. We can't afford for me not to work, and childcare for three, one after school and two full-time, would be impossible. We'd need a larger house if we had another, also. Bigger house = bigger mortgage. Again, not possible.
Is this some innate biological feeling? Some ancient instinct saying "females must be able to produce!"?? A biological clock I never knew I had?? I mean, logically and rationally (and even 95% emotionally) I know without a doubt this was the right direction. But that tiny, hidden part of me thinks "what have I done?"