There is no explaining a three year hiatus, so I won’t even try.

The truth is: I’m not even sorry.

Where have I been? Oh, you know… out in the world, living my little life, homeschooling the kids, writing poetry.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the trouble with homeschooling the kids is that it tends to interfere with blogging about homeschooling the kids. Har-dee-har-har.

However, there is a part of me that regrets not writing about our adventures of the past few years, because when I sift through these old blog entries, I’m amazed — not just about everything we did all those years — but also about how much I’d forgotten about things we did all those years. I’m sad now, realizing that there are countless little moments that I will never remember.

So, blogging has its uses, I suppose.

I started this blog way back when because we’d just moved and I was worried about starting smoking again, and also because moving creates a period of isolation. Blogging was a way to bridge that isolation gap, to keep me sane, while finding my place in this part of the world.

And once I’d found it, the urge to blog went away, got replaced with other things.

And now, guess what? We’re moving again. After all this time, all these years here in Pennsylvania, we have to go back to Colorado for RegularDad’s job. And I must be grateful that he still has this job — this good job — when so many don’t have theirs anymore.

So, I am grateful, yes, but I’m also kicking and screaming and having myself a right fine tantrum, because dammit: I never wanted to move here in the first place, but we did, and what happened? It was better than I ever expected it to be. It took five years, maybe six, but I found lifelong friends here, more than that: I found my goddamned tribe here. I achieved success as a poet here: became a poet laureate here, published my first chapbook here, and loved it here, and my daughters loved it here in this weird little county in Pennsyl-fucking-vania, and life was better than good, even in this crappy little split level house falling down around our ears that we never fit properly into, and we were living happily ever fucking after, and now: whoops, sorry, you need to go back, you need to start again in the same place you’ve started again in twice already, so sorry charlie, good luck with that.

Shit.

We leave in three weeks. And I’m not ready. This house is still cluttered and cramped, and full of crap that I wish I had time to throw out before the movers come and pack it all up. We’re still wrapping up our last year of homeschooling here, and for the first time, I’m starting to say no to invitations to outings, picnics, parties. We can’t, I say, there’s not enough time.

Kicking and screaming in my head. But only in my head. Because I’m the mom, and I set the tone. So, on the outside I’m all smiles and cheerful descriptions of where we’re going, and every day I sing a song called: “Everything Is Gonna Be Awesome, You’ll See!”

And all I can do is dust off my old camera, dust off this old blog even, and start saying goodbye the only way I can think of. Writing it down here.

Kicking and screaming.

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2 Responses to “There is no explaining a three year hiatus, so I won’t even try.”


  1. 1 candyn June 12, 2014 at 12:41 pm

    I’m sorry for all the upheaval in your life. Moving is just so… Huge! Though, selfishly, I’m glad it could mean getting to read your blog again. 😉 Wishing you and your family all my best during this crazy time! xoxo


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