When I don't write...

I haven't written in awhile...
When the kids were real little, I'd write about the beautiful simplicities of putting them to bed. Reading stories to them, fastening stickers to pages... I'd write every day. Their little, breathy sighs at bedtime were enough fodder for my sharing. And I know that my parents and maybe an errant uncle and aunt are happy for that. But...
These days, I feel like I need some major story to tell in order to be relevant or meaningful. If I don't have a great lesson learned or a fun little quip to share, I don't feel like it's worth anyone's time to put finger to key.
I listened to a story on NPR the other day about a man who had to watch four of his children be murdered before his eyes. He was so eloquent about this most terrible tragedy. He was soft spoken and terrifically poignant. And then I'm to write about shopping for glitter skirts at Target?
Honestly, how could I?
The floods in the Northeast. There are people who have been without heat and water for weeks. And it's freezing. So, should I start writing about how AJ peed on my pajamas the other night, while mysteriously, his stayed dry?
Politics. I'm a big-time liberal. I'm really happy Obama won. With the amazing extended and diverse family I have, there is no way I can't be happy with the outcome. (And plus, I think I was born a liberal. I ran around naked wearing shit kickers and dandelions in my hair for quite a few years, after all...) But what about the close-to 50% of people in America who aren't happy? I'm certainly not going to jump around with a Gobama tee when half of the (really cool) people I know are less than thrilled. My sweet husband is more conservative than I, and I respect him very much. How would I even attempt to write my thoughts about politics? That's a slippery slope, and who wants to hear my thoughts on that anyway. Seriously.
My joy? Quashed a bit. My silliness? It's there, but reserved. The relevance of what I have to say and write? In the smallest, tiniest circle of maybe ten, perhaps.
And there is something else. I sorely miss my friend Heather, who died of cancer in March. The tiniest, sometimes most ludicrous things make me want to call her. I never realized just how often I used to text her about the silliest things. Just today, I saw a pair of jeans I think she'd like. She used to wear Long & Leans from the GAP (because her beautiful skinny self could) and I was anti- (because I couldn't). So there's this new wash of Long & Leans that would look great on her, and I wanted to take a pic of them on my iPhone and send it. There's this millisecond, maybe even smaller, before my mind catches up to my heart, where I think it's possible...
So those are a few reasons why I put down my pen and paused for a bit. But I'm back. There are so many more reasons to write than not to, I believe. If for nothing else, Lila and AJ can read about their mom's take on the sometimes silly, sometimes calm moments that define our everyday lives. Small moments, maybe. But still so important.

Lila and I had gone to her friend's birthday shindig downtown and she was so excited to walk along the dock with me afterwards. She was happily picking out places she thought would be good ones for photos: "Mom, let's look around the corner for the next best spot. It'll be there. And if it's not, we'll find a way."

(Can't forget about the little guy. Here's a pic AJ actually allowed me to snap of him. I believe he's channeling Zoolander.)

And so we're off again. Searching for small and lovely moments.

Let's look around the corner for the next best spot. It'll be there...