Avoidance Behavior (aka Status update)

Oh, hello there.
Happy New Year.
What's that you say?

Where have I been?

Well, to tell you the truth, I've been hiding out a little bit. As it turns out, the end of a year--to say nothing of the end of a decade--is a time for reflection, and I, quite frankly, haven't quite felt up to it. When you throw in the fact that a blog is a perfect platform for reflection, well... so long Clio Confidential! See you later, alligator! A traitor to myself, I have instead been blogging on my work blog, where personal reflection is of a more intellectual variety: you can read my posts here and here and here. And I suppose I did do some reflecting, when I put together a book of our year in pictures, which you can see here.

But following a bah-humbug moment around Christmas (more on that in another post, wherein I wonder: what does it all mean, anyway?) and a working New Year's week, I found myself in need of escape; my favorite mode? A good book. And so, in the past week, I read approximately 1200 pages of teen-vampire-romance. Most nights, I built a fire (after Dave taught me how- turns out, in some cases he does know the best method for things), then settled in with Twilight and a glass of wine. And read until the wee hours, like I was, myself, a teenager again. And as I write that sentence, I realize why this was exactly what I needed: my desire to escape, my problem with Christmas, my avoidance of reflecting on the decade, is all somehow wrapped up in my struggle with what it means to be a parent, to truly be a grown up.

Interestingly enough, when I emerged from my vampire and werewolf stupor after completing the second book in the series, I did not feel the need to delve directly into the third (though I had already purchased it); instead, I came out with the idea that reflection is not what the Petersons need right now: no. Not while it feels like we're still in unending transition. (I keep hearing that line from The Princess Bride in my head: "Life is pain, Highness", only in my version it goes "Life is change.") So. The Petersons need a plan. Amazingly, when I told Dave that we should get to work on a 3-year strategic plan for our family, he did not laugh. He simply looked me straight in the eye and said, well, it's a good thing we know someone who can make one then, isn't it?

For those of you perhaps a little slow on the uptake, he meant me. Oh, I love my husband.

And so, it begins.

We'll keep you posted.

Have a little patience, okay?