When I initially started this blog, I was determined that I would write every day. I mean, why not? And really, what was the point of it all if I couldn’t commit to writing each and every day, chronicling our daily lives, my thoughts, and whatever else is going on? Even when Harley first came home, I was committed to writing on a daily basis, even if I didn’t always manage. At the start of this year, I decided to try and plan blog entries, to make it easier to write regularly, to write better posts because I’d have the time planned for each one. Of course life doesn’t work like that.
It’s now over a week since my last post. I had a crazy week at work, and then Harley got a stomach bug and that seemed to consume whatever semblance of time and sanity I had left. Oh, and can I mention that I’ve been fighting off a cold as well? As much as I wanted to write here, there just weren’t enough hours in the day. When I did have some consecutive minutes or hours, I wanted to spend them with Dean and Harley, wanted to relax together, to just be together. But when I thought about the fact I hadn’t written here, I felt so bad, felt like such a failure, until I stopped thinking of it negatively, but rather as negative space.