I know, everyone and her mother-in-law has already been keeping a blog for months, or even years. I don't bother following many of them, with a few exceptions.
So why do I feel a little like I'm taking a running jump off a steep cliff, stark naked?
OK, maybe not stark naked, but you know what I mean. I feel like I just joined a club, or maybe some vast social experiment being run by The Matrix. (Prove otherwise...)
The problem is, perhaps, that I've gone so long doing and doing (and doing), that I haven't stopped to think... and if writing is thinking, and blogging is, perhaps, thinking out loud, which is something we usually associate with insanity.
I'm going to divide up my thoughts (divide, and conquer?) into three categories: home, work, and all the other stuff. But what to label them? Reject: "The Home Front" (don't like the suggested war imagery). Reject: "The Homestead" (way too Western). "Back at the Ranch?" Not quite right either, although I do live on a moshav, a ranch-like setting of sorts (see "Definitions," at right).
So for now, it'll just be, "Home," "Work," and "Other stuff." Better ideas welcome.
Home. What I've been thinking about recently is birthdays. Namely, my eldest daughter's birthday. Tz. turned nine today (Hebrew date: 4 Tammuz), and while I didn't exactly miss it, I didn't exactly wake up super early and decorate the living room with balloons, either. She woke up early, most likely expecting to see some birthday-related display, as I had for her last year, and for her younger sister Sh. this past month.
When she saw that nothing was up, she went back to bed. Five minutes later (6:55) I came up to say good-bye before I ran off to work, and she was smiling.
Tz: Oh, Mommy, I'm so happy!
Me: Why is that? (guilt guilt...)
Tz: Because today I'm finally nine. I've been waiting so long to be nine. (Another smile).
My guilt instantly transformed itself to motherly celebration -- my daughter is happy with her age, her very essence.... This is what she's been waiting for. Not balloons strung across the room, or a big sign, or a cake with small explosives on sticks. Just the essence of living, of growing, of reaching a milestone. Good for her. We should all be so enthusiastic.
(And yes, this afternoon I did get her balloons, and a present (A DVD of "Enchanted." Yet another motherless Disney-girl "role model." But that's for a different post).
Best... keep the balance,