The bearable saddness

I knew it would be sad coming back to Ireland after spending two and half weeks with friends and family over Christmas. I've been even sadder than predicted though. I feel like I did when Silas was first born and I was completely inadequate to love and appreciate such perfection that was all too soon going to turn into a facial hair sporting sullen teenager (Although, if he takes after his father, instead of his uncle Nathan, any facial hair will be fair and sparse). And the back of your eyes feel all pin-prickly just thinking about how quickly the time goes.

So I've been feeling like I spent the last 2.5 weeks generally taking for granted all the loving family I had around at both my parents and Orrin's parents now that I am back in the quiet of our house in Ireland. Silas is doing his best to fill the void with shrieks and giggles, and I've been picking the scab of sadness by listening to melancholy music.

I've not written anything, even a rejected draft, since before we left for Chicago because there was the excitement of packing, the rush to finish Christmas gifts, games to play, babies to cuddle, songs to sing, food to cook and eat, friends with which to try to get together (sadly, not as many as I had hoped), presents to be opened, and stories to be shared.

So it's been a busy few weeks at home, and I have started knitting obsessively. Or at least obsessively frogging. Did you know this was knitter speak for "rip it, rip it"? So yes my alligator mittens have had several false starts, but I'm on the way and if they don't fit Silas by the time i finish them perhaps one of my nephews will need a pair.

But we're getting through this bout of homesickness with healthy doses of Rocky and Bullwinkle, The Muppet Show, planning our next trips in which family will visit or be visited, and lots and lots of Skype.

Pictures tomorrow. Really.