I can't think of any other example of why I haven't blogged except to compare it to when you get really, really constipated, and you want to go, need to go, but every time you sit down to go?
Nothing comes out.
That's how I have felt the past few weeks. Mentally constipated. I have had much on my mind and my heart, and yet somehow have had no words to talk about them. Lately, everything has been on the surface for me, nothing too deep, nothing too serious.
(and of course, I don't have to pretend that this boy makes me happier then I have ever been in my whole life! He has this belly chuckle that just slays me! He can't quite get his paci back in his mouth on his own yet, but we're thisclose! He's making raspberry's with his spittle now. He is clearly a genius of a level as yet unknown in our time.)
So, I still don't know exactly what I want to say or how to say it. Which is weird for me- this has always been my place to vent unbridled. In the meantime, I am going to actually go to bed early instead of ust saying I am going to.
And maybe next time I will have some words. Good ones.