Oh hey, everyone—it’s only been, what, 9 months?
Well, I’ll skip the bit where I apologize for not posting and just say that raising a baby is hard work. At almost 1 year in, I finally feel like a have a few minutes to stop, think, and write. William is napping now and it is gloriously silent in the house. So this is what it’s like to have a break?
A few transitions have taken place in the past month. We packed up all our possessions in early May, right after Taylor graduated with his M.A. Then we bopped around Washington for a couple weeks before making the official move to Arizona. We still only plan to live here for a year, though we have no idea where we will move next. I admit I’ve grown weary of the mystery. Maybe we will stick around the next place for 50 years to make up for all the moving. Still, I know that God has given us this gap year for a reason.
I’m going to try writing more often, which is going to mean letting this blog get a little messy. Do you remember in grade school when your teachers had you write a “sloppy copy” AKA rough draft? It was the worst, in my opinion. I couldn’t stand having to create something that wasn’t yet perfect, full of typos and tangents. Well…if motherhood has taught me anything, it is that life is full of typos and tangents. Get used to it, Sarah.
So despite my best efforts, this blog will not be a streamlined, focused image of perfection and productivity (not that it ever was, lol). Instead you’ll find a few thoughts churned out between diaper laundry and chasing William down before he tries to eat the dog’s tail. Enjoy.
Since William is still napping (THANK YOU, LORD), I’d like to share a bit about my recent introduction to suburbia. I was raised around enough hippies and anarchists to develop a general disdain for cookie-cutter homes and usually assumed that they were built on what used to be lush wildlife habitats. Here are my initial observations:
1. Having lived near Greek Row for the past two years, this place is SO QUIET. In fact, I’m pretty sure the reason suburbs exist is that people like us had kids and were tired of fishing beer cans out of their yards.
2. Our neighborhood is surprisingly walkable, unless you want to go somewhere. In this case, “planned community” translates into “planned for people who have cars and like driving.” Nevertheless, I’m thankful for the distinct lack of trash in my path most days.
3. All told, I still wouldn’t want to settle down here, though I understand the appeal.
My tiny tornado of a son is up, so I’ll have to continue this anthropological study another day. Have a good week, everyone.