I was looking at some drafts of blog posts, and one was written the day before my niece and nephew were born. BIG SIGH. Which, of course, was after the last time I wrote. So for those of you not on Facebook (and let me tell you, you're missing out. I'm hilarious over there.), I became an aunt in mid-October. I love being an aunt. I love being a local aunt even more, though I have got to time my visits more so I'm not there at dinner. The babies are adorable, and I heart them muchly. I can't wait to see what they become. Right now, my niece smiles every time you catch her eye, which is so freaking cute. That is, of course, when she's not screaming. My nephew sits there and makes funny faces at everyone. I swear, he's got the whole doomed chipmunk look down pat.
Anyways, I have been driven back to blogging by my friend Mandy, who blogs here nearly daily and makes me feel ashamed of myself and my total lack of blogging. She writes heart-wrenching, bared-soul truths. I wish I had that courage; I don't.
Though in all honesty, I have never known the trauma she's had to go through. The more people I know, the more of an anomaly I realize my family is. Loving and supportive and nice. Not perfect. Not perfect at all. But I see some of my friends and how their parents and other family members tear them down or wear them down, and I think of my own family, my own parents who unfailingly support me? And I know that's a support that many of my friends lack.
Not that I haven't needed that support lately. It's ridiculous how little able I am to cope with stress, but I can't. And there have been a couple of things in my life that I am not cool with. I'm working on changing them, but it's hard. And once I've hit a point where I know a situation is not healthy, I have a really hard time dealing with it until I can easily leave.
