My house is the messiest it’s been since we moved in four and a half years ago. That’s probably because we are in the middle of moving out, and there is stuff everywhere.
In the past six weeks I have wanted so desperately to slow down and write, but I haven’t had a chance. I was lying on the couch this evening at 9:40pm and wanted to pass out. We only got home at 9:30 and after a long day at work, doing the pick up and grocery shopping, the last thing any one wants is to walk into a house that’s strewn with half empty boxes, unwashed dishes and filthy floors. I considered cleaning up the chaos in my kitchen/living room/bedroom/laundry/bathrooms/spare room/staircase/garage, but decided not to.
No. I thought. I want to write. I need to write.
I hate that I have let weeks go by without me writing about all that’s happening. But that’s just it; there is so much happening.
I wanted to tell you I turned 30, and it’s not as bad as people think it is. There was no pre-30 crisis (though I did get a bit reflective in the weeks leading up to my birthday and found myself reading journals from a decade ago. It was embarrassing and insightful…but mostly embarrassing).
I wanted to tell you about our weekend at Hyams Beach, and how beautiful that place is.
I wanted to tell you that we put a deposit down on our own a little slice of Australia (whhhhaaattt??? Oh yeah, it happened. We own about 10sqm, and will probably have a mortgage for the rest of our life but I guess that’s better than nothing). That’s why we’re moving out – to save the money we’d otherwise waste on rent.
I wanted to tell you that Mr 2 (who, as of last week, is now Mr 3) has made progress with toilet training and that’s a big deal, given how much drama we went through initially.
I wanted to tell you all about the kick-ass General Assembly session that I went to where I met some kick-ass parenting bloggers face-to-face (and how great it is to see the real life versions of all the awesome writers I
stalk read every week).
— Joy Adan (@adan_joy) March 11, 2015
— Joy Adan (@adan_joy) March 11, 2015
I wanted to tell you that my favourite priest – the guy who taught me so much about what it means to love God, who celebrated my wedding and baptised my son – opened a brand new church in Sydney’s north west and it is truly one of the most beautiful buildings in Sydney (and it’s not even finished yet).
I wanted to tell you that I built and launched my website for all my freelancing stuff… that playing around in the backend of WordPress consumed me for two sleepless nights, but I loved every second of it.
I wanted to tell you that my little munchkin Mr 2 turned into Mr 3, and that I cried the night before his birthday because I was just so happy. That he is so amazing and that he surprises me every day when he reveals yet another new skill, word or tidbit of wisdom that he knows. I wanted to tell you about his obsession with Gru and the minions, and that Despicable Me is hilarious (even after watching it two dozen times).
I wanted to tell you about the night I couldn’t sleep and – thanks to some narcissistic Googling of my high school nickname – I discovered my FIRST EVER blog post from ELEVEN years ago (scary).
Also, I’m editing a sci-fi book, have started writing the book I was talking about a year ago, and oh, I made these on the weekend – don’t they look freaking amazing? Ok, they don’t. They caved in 15 minutes after taking them out of the oven. But that’s coz they’re egg and dairy free. YES. Cake that my little man can eat. Ergo, they are AMAZING.
The list continues… but I need to stop writing because Mr 3 is out of the shower… and I will probably pass out after he goes to bed. But I am alive, and I am happy… and even though I do find it hard to function when I’m surrounded by so much stuff (a humbling reminder to rid myself of all these possessions and live a minimalist life!), now I’m satisfied because I finally got to pen something, even if it is a lazy list of all that’s consumed me in the past few weeks.
Writing has this amazing power to turn my life of crazy, overwhelming unknowns into manageable, digestible… sentences. I have this crazy theory that being able to articulate it means I have some ability to grasp and understand it… and often that’s half the battle, isn’t it? Often I am so consumed by an idea that what is happening is too big for me to handle… but when I write I am no longer drowning but floating… the current may be strong but at least I’m ok.
Until next time (which hopefully won’t be too long away), have a good one.
Wishing you and your loved ones a safe, and happy, holy Easter.