Friday, 21 October 2016

There's something about October

For many people, January or even September tends to be the month that marks new beginnings, or getting back to old routines. For me, it's all about October. I've been thinking about writing more lately and when a friend of mine posted an old Accidental Mummy post to Facebook the other day (the one where I was more excited about having a clothes dryer again than almost anything about our move to Canada),  I realized that while I have run our dryer hundreds (HUNDREDS) of times since moving back almost three years ago, I have not posted to this blog once.

Then I realized that the last time there'd been a gap in posting of any length was from October 2012 all the way to October 2013. So let's go ahead and call it a sign and get back to it, shall we? I probably only have a couple of years where I can write about this kid without him hacking into the site himself and deleting the bits that are embarrassing and/or some other kid finding it and posting on some as yet unknown social platform of childhood or adolescent horrors... Ok. Must stop. Thinking about anyone inflicting cruelty on my kid brings tears to my eyes. Every time.

So how to sum up the past almost three years? Impossible. To be honest I'm a bit miffed at myself that I haven't been posting. It's been an intense few years, back in the homeland and out of the mat-leave/part-time work/baby bubble. One thing we have done is keep track of some of Jack's most wonderful turns of phrase and dialogue in a good old fashioned notebook. Thank you Alex for the idea and for putting the blank book in my hands.

I look back at that post of October 2012, how impatient I was to "be where my kids were going to grow up", to the post of October 2013 where I was newly married, a few short months from moving to Canada and feeling a little unsure. Now it's October 2016. Jack has started JK and loves it, we live in a new house right around the corner from our rental that I mainly love (when I am not having panic attacks spurred on by suburban living). I'm still feeling a little unsure and I'm still feeling a bit impatient.

It's been wonderful being back home for all the reasons I thought it would be. And I've missed London like a limb for all the reasons I knew I would. It's been hard on our marriage, it's been good for our marriage. We've all had great days, we've all had incredibly crap days. Alex and I have both been unemployed, we've both started new jobs (this time both at the same time, just in the nick of time for moving into said new house!) we've traveled to at least one new Canadian city every summer, traveled back to London three times and hosted relatives from England at least twice a year. We have watched a LOT of Netflix.

I assumed we would have had another baby by now but apparently that's not in the cards. And I don't know about Alex, but for me that's hitting especially hard right now when Jack has definitively moved on from baby/toddlerhood and I'm moving swiftly toward the end of my 30s. When we last left him, Lord Yelly of Screamy Manor had established himself as a highly-vocal sort. Now he is a highly vocal sort with VIEWS and a social life and stuff. No more days of meandering about town with a sleepy baby in tow.

Although... re-reading those posts this afternoon about baby times for the first time this afternoon, I don't think I am fully remembering just how much screaming and pelvic pain and diapers and self-milking was involved. Or how little sleep. Maybe I should count my blessings that Jack is able to chill on his own with breakfast and Treehouse while Mommy "finishes her sleep"and enjoy all the pain-free yoga classes I'll get to enjoy for the remainder of my 30s and beyond.

Having Jack in my life has fundamentally altered my understanding of love and joy. I can only imagine that as we both get older, he'll just continue to do that for the rest of our lives.


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