Hmm. Interesting.
I had the urge this afternoon to write, for the first time in nearly a year.
I...I don't even know what to do with that, frankly. I mean, I've got some WIPs I'm sure, and there's always the non-fanfic stuff, but....it's been so long since I felt the least bit creative on the writing front that I'm not even sure what to do when the bunnies poke their heads out. Heck, I'm not sure the bunnies quite know what to do with themselves!
It was awfully nice, though, to have that particular tug toward a keyboard, or failing that, a pencil. I don't know what, if anything, will come of it, but it was good to know it's still there. Maybe when(if) Andrew starts sleeping through the night on a more regular basis than he is now (and it's already much better than it was even two or three months ago), I'll be relaxed enough that the urge is more frequent.
Then again...he is two. Relaxation might still be something of a pipe dream for the next year or so.
Incidentally, I haven't forgotten what today is, it's just that with Andrew being on the downswing of a cold, there wasn't much point in making much of it. Today is the two-year anniversary of Andrew's adoption day, and one year since the adoption was legal. Yay! I figure the train sets are Andrew's adoption present, because clearly they're turning into a present for me as much as for him.
I can't decide if two years sounds like a long time or a blink of an eye. I think it feels a little like both. Sometimes it's like I can't remember life before Andrew; other times I remember it clear as day. A few weeks ago I had reason to put on dress-up clothes, and I got to wear shoes I hadn't worn since I was working. They had dust on them, and they had been my favorite shoe to wear! (Clarks t-straps, black with a 1-1/2" heel, bit like character shoes, actually, but more of a subdued point to the toe.) The clothes I'd intended to wear, however, did not - a pair of pants, and I could hold them out from my waist like in those weight-loss commercials you see. Egad! Now I don't know what to do with them - keep them under the theory that I will either (a) gain the weight back, ugh, or (b) find time/someone to take them in, or (c) just give them away. And I suspect there are additional clothes that could go those assorted routes as well, I just have to dig in the closet a little. (Frankly, I probably should anyway; there's some clothes in there that predate Cleo. Heck, there's probably clothes that predate Bill.)
I...I don't even know what to do with that, frankly. I mean, I've got some WIPs I'm sure, and there's always the non-fanfic stuff, but....it's been so long since I felt the least bit creative on the writing front that I'm not even sure what to do when the bunnies poke their heads out. Heck, I'm not sure the bunnies quite know what to do with themselves!
It was awfully nice, though, to have that particular tug toward a keyboard, or failing that, a pencil. I don't know what, if anything, will come of it, but it was good to know it's still there. Maybe when(if) Andrew starts sleeping through the night on a more regular basis than he is now (and it's already much better than it was even two or three months ago), I'll be relaxed enough that the urge is more frequent.
Then again...he is two. Relaxation might still be something of a pipe dream for the next year or so.
Incidentally, I haven't forgotten what today is, it's just that with Andrew being on the downswing of a cold, there wasn't much point in making much of it. Today is the two-year anniversary of Andrew's adoption day, and one year since the adoption was legal. Yay! I figure the train sets are Andrew's adoption present, because clearly they're turning into a present for me as much as for him.
I can't decide if two years sounds like a long time or a blink of an eye. I think it feels a little like both. Sometimes it's like I can't remember life before Andrew; other times I remember it clear as day. A few weeks ago I had reason to put on dress-up clothes, and I got to wear shoes I hadn't worn since I was working. They had dust on them, and they had been my favorite shoe to wear! (Clarks t-straps, black with a 1-1/2" heel, bit like character shoes, actually, but more of a subdued point to the toe.) The clothes I'd intended to wear, however, did not - a pair of pants, and I could hold them out from my waist like in those weight-loss commercials you see. Egad! Now I don't know what to do with them - keep them under the theory that I will either (a) gain the weight back, ugh, or (b) find time/someone to take them in, or (c) just give them away. And I suspect there are additional clothes that could go those assorted routes as well, I just have to dig in the closet a little. (Frankly, I probably should anyway; there's some clothes in there that predate Cleo. Heck, there's probably clothes that predate Bill.)