I don't want to go to Mars.

The texts have started to come in from friends checking in...waiting for news......"how you doing?"...."I'm so excited to meet Baby G soon!"..."Dude! You are SO close, how are you feeling?".....the count down it seems, is on.

And with a week and a half to go until my official due date, and the very real fact that pretty much any time could be go time, it's mind-blowingly on.

As I was replying to a text from my friend L, I started to liken how I was currently feeling, as having signed up for that one-way trip to Mars. 

And as that thought sank in - how very much and how quickly life as I knew it, this life, this selfish, comfortable, slow moving life, was about to change, change in permanent ways that while in my control, feel so desperately out of my control - I proceeded to have a wonderfully cathartic ugly cry that I realized has been brewing, and was so very much needed.

On Saturday, while A was off for a stag weekend, I was at a friend's BBQ that was starting to turn into one of those party kinda nights. While everyone else grew louder and tipsier, I decided it was getting late and I should make the trek home and into bed.

As I said my goodbyes, they felt like big goodbyes.  I realized that likely the next time I saw these friends, that it would be all be different.  That I would be different.  As I drove home, I thought about turning back around and staying until the wee hours, playing crazy made up games using garbage cans and hockey nets and enjoying what was left of this pre-baby version of me. 

But I was sensible. I didn't turn around. I went home,  went to bed and squashed all the sad, guilty, selfish feelings - telling myself it was all going to be fine. 

Ignoring the fact that I would be soon departing for Mars.

This life of mine, that's been all mine for 37 years is about to change in ways I can't even comprehend and I'm mourning that fact. I am scared for what is to come. I am sad at what I am losing. I am petrified that I will be filled with regrets. I am worried that these emotional toxins are poisoning this child - this child who has done nothing to deserve this selfish, fearful, doubting mum. 

Well now is as good a time as any I suppose.

Apparently just over two years ago I started a new blog.

And then I didn't do anything further with it.

I had good intentions and the desire to start writing again, but I was likely too busy drinking wine, smoking pot, complaining about my job, complaining about A, my boyfriend,  eating too much, watching too much tv, not exercising enough and generally living an indulgent, self-absorbed yet lazy life to actually start said creative journey. 

And given all of those 'non things' I was busy doing, in my mind's eye, what of interest was there to actually write about?  

Well, things changed a bit over the last year.  I did 'stuff''.

I finally started job hunting...then failed to get a job I pinned a lot of hopes and plans on.

I decided to stay 'stuck' in my current job and focus on baby making (I was 37 and all and not getting any younger)

I bought a fix-er-upper with my boyfriend, A, and embarked on the world of home renovation.

I got knocked up (by A).

I got engaged (to A).

So with the renos no where near where we thought they'd be, the reno budget running on empty, the baby due in two weeks, a year of mat leave ahead and a deposit put down for a wedding we set for August 2015...I realized I have finally signed up for a whole bunch of shit where a creative outlet is probably going to be helpful in dealing with all of the emotional and mental crap that come along with making all of these...Major. Life. Decisions. 

I miss wine. I miss pot. I miss being lazy. But I now realize I miss living more. I'm present in my own life again. And while it's all still just 'stuff', it feels suprisingly awesome.

Welcome.

A new blog about signing up for stuff

Excuse the mess. I just signed up to start a new blog and need a bit of time to make the place look a little nicer - you know, make it feel like home.

I'll invite you in soon.