Confessional this is not

At this moment in time blogging is a little like going to the dentist for me. It's not something I enjoy. I find myself holding back huge parts of my life from this space, in part to protect those closest to me who don't want to be blogged about, and, in part, because I don't want to share all that much of myself.

I'm not blue. And I'm not overly happy. I'm in between--in so, so many ways that I couldn't even begin to write about. I feel alternately disconnected and too busy. I feel happy about my house and unhappy with my neighborhood. I feel confident about Craig's job and worry that he won't get tenure. I feel bored by parenting and rapturously in love with my kids. I'm over-thinking and blanking almost at the same time.

A reality check is the best remedy for this state of being.

Julia went down for a nap at 12:30. She's had a little sinus infection, and she's been clingy and whiny. I knew she needed the sleep. I also knew she would scream her little lungs out when I laid her down. I escaped to the back of the house, so I wouldn't have to listen to her. Three hours passed, and I started to wonder, "Is she okay?" I know she is, but still I crept to the top of the stairs. No noise. I crept to her bedroom and silently opened the door. I tiptoed to the edge of her crib and looked over. She was sleeping on her side. Her little toes were wiggling (a sure sign she would wake soon) and she murmured. I laid my head on the rail of the crib. God, I love this kid. I examined every inch of her body, her chest rising and falling with her breath, her legs already tanned with spring time sun, her wispy hair curling at the top of her ear.

And that's when she really got me. In her sleep, cooing and murmuring to herself, she was twirlling the hair at the nape of her neck between her fingers. God, I love that kid.

In those moments, there's nothing to question, nothing to feel in-between about. I love her, I love her, I love her.