This is the third blog post I’ve started tonight. I had one about how I seem to have dropped out of NaNoWriMo this year. I had one rambling one about the homeschool co-op we visited today. And now I have this one. I don’t know what this one’s about yet.
I think it’s about how I should go to bed rather than post to my blog but that I feel compelled to post something, probably because the idea of quitting both NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo is just too much for me to handle. “Believe in something,” I tell myself.
Or maybe it’s about how I feel nervous that my daughter is behind now with making lasting friendships. Back in Utah, she had friends she’d known since she was three. Many of these friends had friends they’d had for longer (from birth, essentially), and while my daughter was late to the party, she was pretty close to getting in on the ground floor. With the move, she’s starting from scratch again, but now these girls are five and six and seven and have had friends they’ve known since they were born. My daughter just can’t seem to find her place amid these types of friendships. I’m pretty much reconciled to the fact that my nomadic lifestyle has made it so I’m essentially locked out of those super-close friendships because I have neither a friend I’ve known since kindergarten nor a twin. But it’s a little harder to let go of the hope that my daughter might have a close, close friendship. She’s starting over late in the game, but she’s still not even seven. You’d think this wouldn’t be a huge setback, but I worry it might be.
Or maybe this post is just about how I keep baking squash even though it’s clear my family doesn’t really like it. I keep thinking, “It’s high in beta-carotene!” I keep thinking, “We can put maple syrup on it!” I keep thinking, “We can toast the seeds!” All of these things are true, but they don’t make my kids (or me) like squash any more than we already do. Unless it’s in pie. And while I’m fairly comfortable flouting convention, pie for dinner is where I draw the line.