I feel like this could read like a love letter from a boyfriend recently departed for some far-flung land. A letter that comes less frequently with the passing of time. A letter that reiterates the same points - "Life is busy, but good. I love you even more with this distance. And I think of you often." - and yet seems disingenuous because of it's repetitive themes.
And yet... I really do mean it. I swear baby. Aw, come on, don't look at me like that...
Life is busy.
This month, I began working four days a week for my new job, giving me one weekday and the weekend to handle my existing clients. So far, so good. I've managed to juggle it all without dropping the ball. It's also given me a good reason to hone in on my absolute best clients and serve them well, rather than taking on so-so clients who might not be the best fit.
The girls are going to an in-home daycare two days a week. The love it. As does Todd - though he wishes it were three or four days.
Life is good.
We are very slowly and methodically digging ourselves out of the severe financial duress of the past year. We still worry, and there is still no margin for error, but I can confidently say that our stress level has decreased by at least 75%.
We will be going on a little vacation in a few weeks. We're taking the girls and meeting my parents at the coast (the Texas coast) for a few days. We haven't been on vacation in so long that I'm not sure how to behave.
Caroline is nearly potty trained. This came out of the blue and is taking a fairly easy course. I think having an older sibling has helped.
Caroline has had a gigantic language leap. She talks in the longest, sweetly-worded sentences. Her impish grin and general tiny-ness add to the overall effect, emphasizing her precociousness.
Moxie came to visit and we spent a night out on the town: margaritas, queso, and line dancing at a gay bar. Throw in a strange incident with my car key not functioning and a couple of slices of street vendor pizza, and you've got a great time!
Hannah is getting so tall and beautiful that I almost can't breathe. She's tempering the overall effect though by butting heads with me at every turn. We're too much alike, plain and simple.
Todd has had a bit of business and a few real closings come through. Overall, though, he's become the primary caregiver for the girls. He's becoming more adept every day, but I have to admit that part of me smiles ruefully watching him negotiate all the challenges of balancing childcare and a bit of work - the identity crisis, the cabin fever, the desire to run screaming down the street... But he's doing it. And I love him for it.
I love you even more with this distance.
Even though my entire career now focuses on social media, I've found myself with less and less time to actually practice it. I have good spurts on Facebook and Twitter, and then go silent. I spend a night trying to catch up on my blog reading, only to watch the "unread" number creep steadily back up. I think of things I'd love to talk about here, but run out of time and wakefulness at the end of the day.
It makes me recognize (once again) how valuable my online community is, and how deeply I depend on you.
And I think of you often.
Surely I'll find stasis at some point, and I'll find a way to rejuvenate my connections with you. I still think of you, read you, and quote you to others (who still look at me like a loon for quoting people "in the computer"). Don't think that my silence indicates a cooling of my passions.
Perhaps you could talk to me to help fill the void. Tell me the most important thing that's happened in the last week of your life. I promise to listen carefully.
