Spinning wheels

I am sitting in the living room, at the desk, rose-colored pictures of friends on the wall in front of me. It is twilight, the last of the light mixing with the ink of night. Cars zip and hum out on Camarillo. A cricket creaks in the corner; he is here for spring and presumably summer. I have set one song on repeat for the past hour, finding the mellow tune comforting. It reminds me of college, of watching the sun set over the lake, books piled around me, my life deep and intense, or so it seemed. Perhaps I'm nostalgic tonight.

Aaron is still in Santa Fe. He has been away the past few weeks, working on a movie, and has just a bit more to go. I miss him - we miss him, though I'm glad to report that Haven recognizes his picture - and I'm anxious for him to come home. The past month has passed remarkably well with my parents visiting for the past few weeks and helping to keep Haven and I entertained. But the past month or so has been a little melancholy too, I guess.

I have felt rather stuck, or like I'm spinning my wheels, on the verge of moving forward, expending a lot of energy to go nowhere. There are a number of reasons for this. We've had a car situation that is taking seemingly forever to remedy and all the while sucking the money out of our bank account (short story: bought old vehicle out of state and to comply with CA emission standards are having to do A LOT of work to pass emissions and therefore title the car). We readily admit this was a mistake, albeit a mistake that we could not foresee. Mistake admitted, I would like to move on but it seems like there are perpetually five more steps before it is completed. And with Aaron's absence this past month, we've just in general put our life on hold. I spent most of my time with my parents, who were actually staying out in Palm Springs (2 hours from LA, in the desert, where it was sunny and 85 degrees nearly every day, pure heaven for my father). While the sun and warmth and the grandparents were delightful, it was essentially three or four weeks away from our everyday life. I'm anxious to get back in the groove, to connect with our friends again, to catch up on our mundane everyday life again. To sleep in my cold dark cave of a room (ah!). And with this too, our lives on hold, the car stuff, the out of town stints, there has been little room for, well, nesting. Even before Aaron left, the car situation consumed much of our time and energy, especially on weekends, and left little room for much else. We have another baby on the way and I think the nesting instinct is beginning to kick in again - and, again, I feel like it's been hard to move forward on this, on the thinking and dreaming and planning of how to fit a new little life in with our already full life (and apartment). We've had little time to think creatively about our space (can we reconfigure this closet? what should we get rid of? what do we need to get for the new baby?) and I feel that time will run out sooner than we think. I sure wish weekends were three days long.

The last blog entry was about Haven on the verge of walking. I feel a little like I'm on that verge too, or at least I'm hoping so. I'm hoping that movement, walking running soaring, are right out in front of me, that soon my wheels will be unstuck and I will lurch forward (I'd even take lurching right now).

It's been awhile since I last blogged - six months or more? - but I wasn't quite sure I wanted to blog or wasn't quite sure what I wanted to blog about or what direction to take this blog. I didn't really want it to just be pictures of Haven and our happy cheery at home life, because, well, that just isn't me. I also didn't really have a theme or direction - you know, like in the movie "Julie & Julia"? - and I've decided that I just don't have a theme or direction, folks. But I think the writing is helpful to me, I think that the space to sort through, reflect, and report on my life is important for me.

So I think I'm back to where I was two years ago, where the blog felt a little like a letter to my friends, or even to me. There will probably be pictures of Haven, and there will probably be reflections on this job I have right now of being a mom, and I hope that's okay. Because that's where I'm at - and I'm grateful to have you along for the journey. Truly.