It has been 6 months since my last blog post.
I have wonderful intentions of keeping this updated, but I seem to fall short on delivery. Here is time 47 (it seems) of my keeping up appearances.
I don't have a planned post for today, but since I was thinking about it, I decided to leave you with a little fun, courtesy of Snoop Dogg and the HBO True Blood series.
When Nec and I were very brand new parents, we probably behaved like most first timers. Okay, yeah, we were convinced our progeny was the brightest, most beautiful, wonderful child ever conceived in humankind. We meticulously chronicled every small detail of every minor milestone and major achievement Thing 1 could manage. And, in some ways, we were justified. Thing 1 was a quick study, even as a newborn and achieved the usual baby milestones much more quickly that most in his peer group.
By the time Thing 1 was 15 months, however, we discovered there would soon be a Thing 2, and priorities shifted. We still reveled in the minutiae of Thing 1’s seemingly miraculous abilities, but our attention was now divided. Whereas before we had only 1 small, perfect being to focus on, we now had to start over and record each detail of the newest member of our family.
As most parents of multiple children close in age will tell you, at times, your survival mode it to keep your head down and take each day as it comes. Somewhere in our total brilliance, we thought it was a good idea to have 2 children less than 2 years apart. 2 babies in diapers. Yes, I was obviously suffering from a strange and inventive form of parental senility.
At any rate, we did record, and I can remember, most of the biggest, important milestones in Thing 2’s infanthood. I also know that while he could sit up, crawl and walk more quickly that most, he didn’t cut his first tooth until he was almost 17 months old, almost a full year past the time the majority of babies will cut a first tooth.
The Things continued to get older, as children will do, and I noticed a disturbing trend of diminishing milestones. These had altered and changed over time, to where it’s not based on physical and motor development, but more on societal achievements, such as a first day of school or a first sleepover. The physical measures became less and less frequent, and more difficult to define. It’s tricky to see how quickly a child grows from day to day or week to week. 
Every once in a while, however, there are some exceptionally stellar moments that remind a parent of the joy and wonder that is raising a child.
Last month, Thing 2 finally lost his first tooth. He’s now 8, and will turn 9 in a couple of months. Developmentally, he is years behind most of his peer group. Most children lose their first tooth towards the end of year 5 or during year 6. This is, unless they manage to knock out their front teeth by diving into playground landscaping when they’re 3. But, that’s a story of a different Thing altogether.
Thing 2 lost his first tooth, and while I was genuinely excited and happy for him, I was starkly reminded that my children are quickly growing up, becoming their own person, and leaving their father and I behind in the dust.
I don’t think I’d have it any other way.
Yet again, I find I have taken a longer hiatus than I planned.
The Old Man is still with me. Every day is an education, a struggle, a labor of love, a day filled with moments of second guessing. It's been a journey I would never have imagined.
The Things are out of school, and we're trying to enjoy the summer while adjusting to the needs and requirements of The Old Man. It's a work in progress.
Perhaps the biggest news is I scored 25 free Jacob sheep fleece. I'm now learning all there is to know about cleaning a fleece for processing. More on this in the future.
Oh, and I learned about a month ago that I have a "large, buldging herniated disc between L1 and L2". Apparently this is unusual in 'people my age'. These herination tend to happen in lower discs.
So, I am alive, and hopefully, I can make the blog a more interesting place this summer.
It's all about the journey, right?
It starts with finding the tree. We go live, and The Things think that means they go wild (as in zoo). This year, for some reason, I was really put out with Necropolis and The Things, so we grabbed the first halfway decent tree and brought it home. It wasn't until it was in the living room that I realized we had a mutant tree with antennae. 
This year, I couldn't find the replacement bulbs I kept (I'm blaming the move), and I had no 
energy to wind and check and carefully light the tree. I just smooshed (that's a technical design term) the lights up on the tree, trying to hide the cabling as best I could. I was still a strand short.
After the lights comes The Great Decanting. Half a dozen huge and heavy plastic containers filled to overflowing with gee-gaws and doo-dads and all kinds of Christmas regalia are released by The Things. It's almost like watching the little old ladies in their fur coats getting out of their chauffeur-driven Cadillacs at the Day After Christmas sale at Fine's on Broughton in Savannah (that's another story all together).
There's a good side to that, though. I'm so glad The Things old enough to decorate the tree now, I don't even care that most of the decorations are on the bottom half of the tree. All I know is, I don't have to do it.
