I was thinking the other night that it's been almost 3 years since I "checked out" of mainstream society. I'm thinking that I really like going slow.

No cell phone. No corporate/business paycheck. No school. Just me, my husband, and the kids, doing life. Not even a whole lot of internet or TV lately. Not much interaction with the world at large either--it's not really the season for it. Just occasional visits from friends, Fiona's playgroup, and my almost-daily outing to the 30 minute circuit-training mini-gym thing.

I nurse three, catch up on my scientific/religious/feminist/political/trashy fiction reading, talk to my husband, start little projects and don't finish them, do laundry, kind of clean the house, think about homeschooling, listen to NPR and talk radio, think of lots of essays and stories but never quite get the time to write them down. I giggle at how scandalized and/or bemused Mr. Ashcroft would likely be at my library checkout list of the last 3 months. I bring meals to church members of the UU church that I seldom attend on Sundays because I'm too lazy to pack all the kids in the car at this age.

Sometimes, I feel like 30 should be old and grown up. Then I realize that 30 is really pretty damn young--just barely old enough to gain the first sprinklings of wisdom. I get frustrated with not having much time to write, but then relax as I know that seasons change, and it's most definitely spring. I am amazed at the real conversations I can have with my 2 1/2 year old. I am eager for her brothers to start talking too.

I never imagined I could be this physically tired, this creatively frustrated, but emotionally and spiritually content.

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