One might think

that maybe I quit writing when I found out I was pregnant again. That maybe the morning sickness combined with the need to keep the news to ourselves for a few weeks, or months, kept me away from the place where I like to spill my heart and thoughts to anyone who will listen. That perhaps being pregnant while trying to keep up with a toddler simply occupied ALL of my time and energy and sent me into a home-bound tempest in a teacup that hasn't seem to let up until just this month, when I've come out of the holidays and into another new year, and in the settling calm seen that we suddenly have a (mostly!) fully-functional family of four, including a vibrant three-year-old and an unbelievably yummy nine-month-old.

Those things might have had something to do with it.

But to be perfectly honest, I haven't been writing because I was told almost a year-and-a-half ago that my writing here was hurtful, offensive, and embarrassing to some people who are (and always will be) closest to me. And I haven't known what to do with that information. I haven't known how to write again. I hope it's needless to say that hearing that was a shock, and I never intended anything remotely of the sort. In fact, when I first began this blog, I thought I was keeping it separate from anyone I knew personally; and when I decided to out myself to friends and family, I deleted all of those archives, just in case. Because although I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, I also hadn't been monitoring myself then. But apparently that wasn't enough, and didn't matter. They didn't like the new writings, either.

(Writing this here, now, probably won't help.)

So it's taken me this long to mull it all over, (and over and over again), and I still haven't decided. What to do? I might not ever come back. I might be back tomorrow. I might move the site. I might....??? No idea.

This is me, taking it slow.

(but I have really missed you.)