I wasn't even sure what to title this. Or where to start to get myself back into the swing of regular blogging....
I mean, I could go with the "bad blogger" theme, beating myself up for the woeful neglect of my little blogging community of peeps. But I beat myself up enough about far more weighty things, like bad hair cuts (Heh. Keep reading...) and impulsive emotional eating. And all that self-flagellation in the public blogosphere would make me want to eat more chocolate. Which, I think we all agree, is pleasant but not a permanent solution to well, blogging irregularities.
Or I could go the stream-lining route and lead you all to believe that the lack of blogging is directly related to the re-prioritizing of my time and my energies toward making my home more efficient and more productive. But that would show itself false by one quick glance at the piles of paperwork and the un-fiinished editing project(s) still parked on my counter.
I could, with a little stretching, head down the pious path. Tell you all that the Lord has been nailing some of my personal issues to the Cross, re-working my heart and my mind toward His plans for my days and my hours bent on further glorifying Him. That I've been too busy praying and leading my three little day-time charges into endless hours of praise and worship at the feet of Jesus. But that would just be, well, pious. And a gross exaggeration of what my days lately have actually looked like. And gross exaggerations are, well, Not pious. So there's a big contradiction goin' on there that doesn't sit well. (Instead, picture referee uniforms, whistles, and all! kinds! of distraction techniques being winged about everywhere!)
Truth is, I'm struggling. I'm working to find my new groove. To develop a new routine with lots of new factors played in and accounted for in the process. And every.single.time. I think that this new routine is starting to hum along, a hiccup occurs. Normally, I can deal with hiccups in the schedule fairly well. NOT, mind you, that I like them. Or even adapt to them easily. But I get over the initial angst and move on. It's what moms do. There is little choice in the matter, when considering the six other folks that these hiccups include... 8 if you add Little Gal and Little Guy into the mix. Which I have to do, considering that they are here for the majority of the week.
I'll say it again, it's a good, good thing that those two cuties are so flexible and easy-going. They've had to deal with the hiccups in the house right along with the rest of the Gang. And I must say, they handled this week's big hiccup fantabulously. The big hiccup of which I speak was Dr. D's hand injury from Monday afternoon's football game. That meant a morning off and on the phone and emails galore: with the school nurse, the coach, the trainer, The Boss, the sister, and the pediatrician. All just to coordinate a quick (hahahahaha) trip to the pediatrician. That resulted in a not-so-quick trip to the orthopedist. Seems that the loss of feeling in two of Dr. D's fingers during said injury was enough of a concern that the docs involved needed x-rays and consultation with the specialist. Thankfully, on so many levels, there is no break. Just a deep muscle/tendon/nerve bruise that made for some ugly swelling and limited movement for the week. Play for this week's big game is doubtful but he's not out for the season.
Another minor hiccup (that did NOT feel minor at the time!) was a last minute run to the salon to have my bangs trimmed and blended. I loved the long sweeping bangs across my forehead but they got too thinned out in my last cut and the humidity of late has been creating little frizzy curls across the forehead. So before I left for a weekend at Women of Faith with my sister, I ran out to have them trimmed and blended. Those were the words I used, repeatedly to the stylist. That is NOT what I got when I left. Let's just say, when the stylist stops and stares at what she just did in dismay (Oh, yes, that was dismay and confusion I saw on her face. It was.), you pretty much know that it's NOT gonna be a good hair cut.
My history with bad hair cuts is well-documented here. And here, part II... Cuz yes, a bad hair cut is never just a bad hair cut for me. Seriously. I don't know what my problem is. And saying that is not me asking for your input. Thankyouverymuch :)
So this time, the hair cut debacle wasn't really about forgiveness. Although, I probably do need to letitgo and forgive the poor gal for her mistake. Turns out, after some contemplation and introspection (Ugh, I hate it when I do that.) it was really about, well, about life. Real, gritty, dirty, life. Mistakes happen. Ideas and plans get thwarted, even miscommunicated. Stylists have no style. (Ooops, that was snarky. Sorry!) But it's life.
And that, my friends, is the real reason I'm so erratic and neglectful of my blogging. Life. I am starting to think that the new normal around here will show itself in its own good time. And along the way, hiccups to the plan will have to be dealt with accordingly.
I guess I am just going to have a lot more time to deal with those hiccups, big or small. You know, since my uber-short hair takes all of five minutes to wash, dry, and style.
Heh. Heh. Sob. sigh...
