Much has changed since my last post...over 6 months ago. I marched into a new decade, added another little guy to our troop, we sold our house and are buying a new one.
I like to think that's the reason why I haven't been blogging lately, and it's true. Partially anyway. The bigger reason why is I don't think I have much to write about of value. I stay home full time with my children, and while I realize it is a HUGE responsibility and privilege, it's also a conversation killer. No, seriously.
(Dinner party scene. Moon-shaped clusters of people converse between sips of Pinot Noir and polite bites of crusty French bread topped with smoked gouda.)
Me: (turn to a newcomer) What brings you to the area?
Other: I'm a graduate student at the University.
Me: (food in mouth) What are you studying?
Other: (confidently rehearsed) I finished up my M.D. at Johns Hopkins, and now I'm working on my PhD specializing in pediatric cardiology transplants. How about you? What do you do?
Me: (brushing crumbs from my chest and spot a new red stain next to a faint spit-up one I apparently didn't wipe off well enough) I stay home full time with our children.
Other: (bewildered) Oh.
(Awkward pause. Newcomer turns to talk to someone else, so I do the same.)
Though the scene more commonly occurs in some public place of business or meeting a new person at church (not everyone I meet is working on a PhD), it has essentially the same effect: unless I'm talking to a fellow sister in the trenches, no one asks a follow-up question.
I was reminded of a famous expression to "write what you know" this past week, and I've decided to embrace the experiences God has given me as fodder for my writing. Though I'm not pursuing a PhD in pediatric cardiology transplants, I know sacrifice and sleep deprivation. I know diapers, dishes. I know laundry--piles of it. I know boys. I know messes and mercy. I know fear of failure, fear of man. I know love, loss, worry. I know joy. Hope. And I know Christ--in part, not yet whole.
