Almost a year has passed since I last blogged. As I hesitantly click ‘new post’ and start writing, I wonder why, since my son was born, I have paid only very infrequent visits to my own and other’s spaces in our shared blog-world. Much less even attempted to do any writing. The obvious reasons are of course to do with things like lack of time, energy etc., but then I see that many of you have managed to continue blogging after having babies. So why not me? I guess the real reasons behind my non-blogging is to be found somewhere else. Part of it is quite possibly to do with the fact that I never intended to write a parenting blog and still have no desire to do so. But there is something else, some other underlying issue more significant still.
Although I can’t quite put my finger on it, it seems that from the moment our precious son was born, I started living differently and it is this different mode of living that somehow resists being written about. For me life with a child is living mostly in the now. Like an amazing, exhilarating, sometimes absolutely exhausting, but always joyous roller coaster ride. For me life with a child is constant movement, one moment taking the next, today flowing into tomorrow as you barely notice any distinction between the two. All the while you see and experience with great intensity the changes that are evident for every new day. The growing. The develpments. A person coming into being like a beautiful flower opening slowly revealing all its glory. It’s like life is moving both incredible fast and standing still at the same time. I thought I would be documenting everything . If not here on my blog, at least in a baby book or something. You know, writing down when he did this or that etc. I haven’t written anything down. I have just lived it, felt it, experienced it. I both remember it all and don’t remember any of it. It’s written in my heart in a kind of non-specific way that defies representation. I can’t write about parenthood. It just is for me. It vibrates, it is living.