Ok. so. It’s been pretty quiet on the blog here lately. A couple of weeks ago, while I was in the midst of a sleep-deprived marathon-parenting stupor (more on that below), a well-meaning friend nearly called the police to check on me because she hadn’t heard from me in a couple of days. Please don’t do that too.
In our house, Christmas arrived on January 3rd. To cut a very long story short, husband was FINALLY given an interview date to apply for his visa at the American embassy in London… a week before Christmas. His visa was approved. And naturally, it took three weeks to arrive in the mail.
It didn’t feel right to celebrate Christmas without him. As we had been explaining to B, who is beginning to comprehend the meaning of giving and receiving gifts, the season is all about celebrating and showing love for the people in our lives. Going through the motions without one of the key members of our family unit would have been just plain confusing. So Father Christmas arrived when daddy did. To be honest, I kind-of liked the extra time. And buying stocking stuffers at 70% off.
After all of our wandering to and fro, starting a new home and settling into routines, and one looooong three-week stretch of parenting on my own, I’ve been pretty tired. In my head there are about five different blog posts jumbled up together. But instead I’ve felt the need to just step back, reflect, pray, and make sense of it all. Not a bad thing, really.
So I have a lot of feelings. And thoughts. I promise to share some of them soon. At the pace we’re moving in our house, we probably haven’t hit New Years yet anyway.