Today, after cleaning the apartment and making lunch, I said to the Sailor that I didn't know what to blog about. Oh, I have a slew of DIY and craft ideas scribbled in a notebook, but none of them seemed appropriate today. He shrugged and said, 'Blog about life.'
I moaned back, 'I do blog about life...'
He rattled through the list of things I blog about, cooking, crafting... and said I needed to add a bit more about life in there. (This, from the man that I wasn't even sure knew what I wrote on here.)
The Sailor was onto something.
I have always been able to express myself better through writing than any other method of communication. I can pour out my soul in journals and with stories in ways that I've never been able to share verbally with friends or even family. It's funny to me that although I have included some of my life on this blog, there is still so much that I've left out, often intentionally.
I am a particularly private person. I may know a ton of people and have a bunch of friends on Facebook, but very few know the ins and outs of my life. I tend to not air my proverbial laundry (whether dirty or clean) in public.
I have enjoyed writing about
bits of my life on Typing Sunflowers -- even if it's all about cooking, crafts and crochet. But there's a lot more going on at the moment, an event that I can no longer hide -- at least if you met me in person. It's quite evident by my growing belly, and it's not just because I have a weakness for Five Guys cheeseburgers.
I'm expecting.
My initial reaction to the news of this event, was to simply ask the Sailor just how much we trusted a $1 pregnancy test made in China. And then I panicked a little. A baby?!
Over Thanksgiving, I briefly visited a friend and her four-month-old baby. I held the wee one for a few minutes and when he started squirming and cringing like he was about to cry, I promptly handed him back to his mother. I told her I didn't know what to do with babies. I actually heard a gasp from across the room -- and another friend looked at me quite incredulously, then proceeded to tell me how much she loved babies.
I never said I didn't like babies. But I've never been a 'baby person'. You know the type -- the ones who swarm around a newborn and beg to hold it, wanting to know every little detail about the child's eating and sleeping habits. The ones who dream of being pregnant and having children and feel like life will never be complete without them.
That was never me.
The Sailor and I have always loved our life together -- just the two of us. Not even a year ago, down on the farm, a dear friend asked me flat out my position on having kids. Not many friends could ask me that and get an answer out of me, but she could. I'm still not sure what I actually said, but I know I hesitated long enough for the other gals there to chime in and let it be known that perhaps I wasn't ready to have a baby.
Whether or not I'm ready to have a baby is irrelevant. (The more I think about this, is anyone ever 100% ready...?) Clearly God had other plans for us, because here I am, 21 weeks into this adventure. I haven't turned into a 'baby person' overnight. But I take great comfort in knowing that my own mother was the same way as me before she had kids -- she had hardly held a baby until she brought my brother home from the hospital, and she was and still is one of the most amazing mothers I know. She may not have been a 'baby person' but she still fiercely loved her own babies.
It's a little crazy to think that I'm now a mama to this tiny being growing inside of me. I've found myself smiling whenever I feel the Peanut kicking, and more than once I've gotten a little emotional when I've heard that heartbeat.
And even though I panicked a little that first day I heard the news... I also starting knitting baby socks. Because really, knitting socks is about the calmest thing I can think of when life gives you some unbelievable news -- especially when that news is something worth expecting.
And that, my friends, is life.