The return of the sensitive cynic

It’s been a while. Almost a year since I wrote my last blog post on Christmas Eve. I didn’t mean for that to happen; I wanted a bit of a break for a few weeks but a year? I didn’t see that coming. I’m thinking you probably didn’t miss me and may have actually forgotten who I am anyway. I’m the blogger who can’t stand Christmas so much I write a whole series about it. Yeah, I thought it was a pretty stupid thing to do too but hey ho.

So, it’s a little late in the year for talking about such things, but my New Year resolutions for 2015 were

1) Pay my loved ones more attention

2) Work on an album of songs

I’d say I tried but mostly failed on resolution 1 and didn’t bother trying number 2… and therefore failed dismally.

I certainly didn’t resolve to let my blog page gather dust, so yeah, another fail.

It’s funny how life just takes you by surprise isn’t it? Last year was crazy and turbulent and glorious and heartbreaking; an emotional roller-coaster. A year of learning about loss. This year has been crazy and wonderful and exhausting and totally unexpected. I didn’t expect to have no time or inclination to write. I had no clue that I’d come back to it after a year, typing with one hand while breastfeeding a seven week old baby girl, in a new home living quite a different life to the one I had this time last year.

Turns out typing with one hand is painfully slow and annoying so I might just have to get to the point here….

After feeling like I wanted to hide away from the world while pregnant and getting acquainted with my little bundle I now feel ready in my heart to get back to the harsh but wonderful world of blogging. Trouble is, I don’t even have time to keep up with the laundry and the dishes right now, so I need to ease myself back in gently. My life is thick with the fog of falling in love with a newborn, with delicious snuggling and gazing and heart melting moments to cherish, and with trying to make sure everyone has clean underwear and a meal on the table of some description. This is a time of my life when things are just messy and I have to go with the flow in each moment, just to keep up with the basics. It’s a time when I find myself doing things like not brushing my hair for five days because I left the brush in a pile somewhere and trying to remember that I must buy a new one urgently. And then forgetting again.

So to get back to it gently, I’m going to re-launch some of the blog posts from last year’s Christmas Survival series – not all of them, just on days when I can find a minute to switch on the laptop. Preparing for Christmas this year is going to throw up a whole load of new challenges with the baby, so I will be glad of a bit of a reminder of coping mechanisms. I must’ve found that last year’s surviving the season series made a bit of an impact on my attitude, as this year I’ll admit I haven’t been quite as whingy as December approaches and I’m even thinking it could be quite nice to get the decs out soon, and then I see the mess I can’t manage to clear and change my mind again. The Christmas grumpiness in me hasn’t disappeared entirely, there’s definitely more taming of the Scrooge to happen yet….

I’m worried about becoming type-cast as a seasonal blogger – the type who hibernates all year only to come to life when the tree lights come on. But I hope that in the new year I’ll be back, unless life takes another twist and I want to hibernate again. Who knows? I’m looking forward to blogging about something other than Christmas that’s for sure.

Here’s to another chapter and another December coming round too quickly for my liking. Cheers, and all that jazz,

Naomi

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