Confessions of a Neglectful Blogger

I know I’ve been bad about this lately, and it has been brought to my attention. I could give you the big excuse about the move from Seattle to California, but that would be a little too obvious, and a bit untruthful.

One of the great things about blogging is the ability to discuss any of life’s daily traumas, joys, or random observations, and have an online community who empathizes with you, or is just somewhat amused by what you have to say. However, the issue of barriers comes up. Should I talk about this? What if I discuss this person and they figure out that I’m talking about them? Is everyone going to get bored out of their minds hearing me go on and on about the same stuff?

My issue as of late isn’t the move, although it has been exhausting. It isn’t even my life squatting at the in-laws, it’s been a bit weird, but they are quite accommodating. The job has been a bit more of a challenge than I thought it would be, but what new job doesn’t come with a learning curve. The main focus of my life and the reason for neglectful blogging has been due to the unanticipated impact this uprooting has had on my daughter.

Jeff and I thought we did a good job psyching her up for the move. We talked for weeks about all of the positives of life in California, and Rachael was very excited when she first arrived at Grandma and Papa’s house. Due to starting the new job during the busiest month of the year, I was absent for nearly our entire first week of life in California, but Rachael didn’t seem to mind. She had plenty of attention from her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, and I thought her adaptation was going very well.

Her issues started around the end of the second week of life in California. It was about that time that she kept asking me when we were going home. I tried to psyche her up, once again, by telling her that we were going to have fun picking out a new house, and that she would have her Dora bed in her new room, but she wasn’t as excited this time. Jeff had to fly back to Seattle to oversee the house sale, and that’s when our problems with Rachael really began. She was adamant about sleeping in my bed, and developed new phobias such as a fear of the dark, and reluctance to taking a shower. She became angry, bit one of the kids she rides to daycamp with, and has backslid in potty training to where she is having little “accidents” at least three times per day.

I know her anger and insecurity first hand, because my mother was a bit loony and moved us every six months throughout my entire childhood, which is one of the reasons it is so hard for me to watch Rachael go through this. I’ve tried to assure her that everything will be okay. Jeff and Fozzy are down here now, and that has helped to an extent, but we are still having potty issues. We went last night and looked at a couple of places to rent beginning August 1st. My hope is that, in a couple of weeks, once we are settled in a place of our own, my little girl will go back to being the happy sprite she was in Seattle. Until then, I’ll be a bit on edge, overly concerned, and wonder if this is the first step to weekly therapy session that begin at age 20.

Not the most interesting blog I’ve ever written, but at least it’s honest, which in the world of blogging might just be the reason we all do this in the first place.