Another issue adding to my gloom is my dissatisfaction with my writing. I use to be such a better writer. I don't seem to have the focus to pick a topic that's weighing on me and really get to the root of it. Nor do I have the imagination to even think of good topics to write about. What happened to me?
So because I have absolutely nothing to say right now, I'm going to leave you with the blog post I submitted as 2011's Best of Adoption Blogs. I know Kristen doesn't write about "open" adoptions too frequently, but this post resonated with me because it was a humorous break from The Wait. So often I read blogs like mine - with anxious pre-adoptive parents navigating The Wait. Her blog, Rage Against the Minivan is an escape for me. Not to mention a good source of reference as we're tossing around the idea of doing a Haiti adoption for #3.
In The Bedroom as a Metaphor for the Neglected Inner Sanctuary, I was SO relieved I wasn't the only one with a terrible, terrible secret. My bedroom is shameful. The rest of my house (or at least, the parts you can see) are fairly well kept. Organized chaos is a fair assessment. But my bedroom is shameful. Shameful. I'm just glad that there's proof in writing that I'm not the only one.So follow the link above and join me in taking a look at our rooms and examining if they reflect the level of care we give to ourselves. In my case, it sadly does.
This is what I dream of my room looking like:
|A Cozy Ikea Bedroom|
|New York Times photo by Bruce Quist|