You have a blog? How long have you been writing a blog?
When Thirteen and Ten were babies, I counted their ages in first days, then weeks, then months. I think that calculus lasts until children are about eighteen months old—then they slip to a year-and-a-half, when someone asks. The milestones we mark start to spread apart—two, two-and-a-half, three—by which time they’re old enough to answer the question for themselves. Some tell with great precision, especially if a birthday approaches. Thirteen, for example, will be thirteen and eleven-twelfths when you’re reading these words—that means he’s just one month away from his birthday and the legal possibility that he could get a learner’s permit to drive. A car.
Ten is rising eleven. Like most girls, she’s a panoply of ages—sometimes reminding me of her toddler self, other times playful and fully ten, still others casting shadows of the young woman she’ll become, a true zero teen.
My third baby, Radiant Om Yoga—aka ROY—is still in the half-year stage. A toddler, ROY turned one-and-a-half this month. There are days when I watch this precious being stand on its own, wobbling a little but upright. There are others when I wonder if it’ll ever climb out of my arms. Just as with Ten and Thirteen, every stage is precious, but some are more exhausting than exhilarating.
And then there’s Overneathitall, two years old this month. When I set the intention to create and post to this blog, I never imagined the habit it would become, the challenges it would create, and the feeling of immense satisfaction I would derive from regular writing in this forum. Over the past two years while I have undergone significant personal and professional changes, the blog has been a surprising gift, a loyal companion, a place to voice a little bit about me and play with the words that I love.
Birthday season means that my peeps are busily planning parties, this year overnights with their closest friends. The plans ebb from more to less elaborate, but whatever the current mood there are constants: little slumber, a movie or two, lots of food, cake. With April around the corner it’s about time to hammer out the details for Thirteen—plus since Ten is a June baby, we need to find a date soon before summer camps and travel plans spread her friends around the world.
ROY will have a birthday party in September. In our house, on your half birthday you get to choose the menu for dinner. Since a yoga studio doesn’t eat much, we marked the occasion with announcements in class and via social media. ROY is truly a baby of the twenty-first century, even as it is a space to connect to yoga’s whispered wisdom of the millennia.
It’ll be a while before my next birthday. Eighty-eight and I are August babies, although Eighty-eight is once again at an age where people unabashedly ask how old she is and sometimes I’ve added the half year. More often I go for the wow factor and go up a notch, saying, “She’ll be eighty-nine this year.” Slice that cake any way you want: nearly eighty-nine and still feisty and independent make for an impressive track record.
I do the same thing with my own age—I’ll turn 48 this year. Sometimes saying it that way means I get confused—on Tuesday I had a form in front of me asking how old I am and I had to think it through—just how old am I really?
I know how old this blog is—two years, sixty-one posts, 6090 views from a total of 58 countries, 59 followers (some of whom I don’t even know!), something in the neighborhood of 65,000 words. A year ago I printed out all that I had posted and thought, that’s half a book. Today it’s a whole book, with room for editing. Not that I think my musings here are book-shaped, but I suspect they suggest a book. I have talked about writing it even, and two years in I wonder if I’m ready. The only way to find out will be to carve out some time and try. Am I willing to? And if I am, what steps out of the way to make room in my twenty-first century schedule? These are some of the questions I’m living just now, looking ahead, even as I breathe in to stay centered and celebrate all of these incredible spring milestones.
The full and new moons are the intended measure for Overneathitall. The sun feels much more like a constant, but we turn around and around it and mark our progress with birthdays and anniversaries and sometimes just a great day. We’re welcoming back the sun from its annual trip south,and it feels so good! Thank you, as ever, for being a part of this journey. With much love & gratitude, Rxo