Best of 2009: then they laughed themselves to sleep and I wrote this post

The following is a re-post first published October 7th. This is the last repost. Promise.


This whole house-hunting, wanting-to-move thing is consuming me. It’s consuming all of us as, as evidenced by the amount of times I’ve blogged about it these last few weeks and I apologize.

But here’s the thing I’ve realized in my short time here on earth: focusing on the things you can control are great distractions from the things you can’t.

The last year I've spent in professional retrograde - busting my ass behind the scenes of these blogs pursuing things that I have yet to really write about here. Because what is there to say? A lot of maybes. Maybe nots. Question marks. Close calls. High hopes. Low mopes. Et al.

But most of all, a lot of writing. A lot of writing about women who are a lot more interesting than I am, children who belong to me in different ways - stories I want desperately to come true.

I’m sharing this with you because over and over I’ve been asked where I’ve been and why I’m not writing as much as I used to, and I feel like I owe you an explanation.

The last several months have included a string of panic attacks. Posts written that I have decided not to post at the last minute out of fear:
1. Because I’ve opened myself up to strangers and as of late have had to deal with the repercussions.
2. Because some days? I want to just live my life without feeling obligated to write about every. fucking. thing. FUCK.
3. Because too often I have asked myself, “is this worth it?” and then answered, “no.”
... ... ...
We’ve been in our house for as long as I started this blog. (I was blogging elsewhere for three years before starting GGC.) Four years is a long time to be in a small space with a growing family but it wasn't until recently that I started feeling antsy.

It started when Fable was born and escalated dramatically when Fable moved out of our room and into her brother’s and we all lost sleep.

When Fable wasn’t waking Archer up in the middle of the night? Archer was waking up Fable until we were all awake, exhausted, frustrated, unhappy, tripping over sharp objects in dark halls during wee hours.

“We need to find a bigger house,” I said to Hal. “We’ve outgrown this one.”

So we started looking. To buy. To rent. To whatever.

We saw our first place, yesterday.

Looking for a new house has held larger meaning for me these last few months as I pursue new stories not my own - making meetings, deleting drafts, trying to define high-concept in three acts and five acts and eight acts and ninety-five versions of the same story later...
"Thanks so much for your time. I look forward to hearing back from you at your earliest convenience."
So I refresh craigslist instead of waiting by the phone. Because I can control a cursor and a mouse. Because that was always the beauty of writing online. Of being online.

Still is.

... ... ...

Last night I put the kids to bed, kissed them both goodnight and left the room. Fable whimpered as she often does when I leave her and then...

“You need to learn how to sleep, Fabes. Here. I’ll teach you. First? Put your head on the pillow like this and then you close your eyes and then you sleep, like this, see?”


“See Fablela?”


“Are you sleeping?”

And then... laughter. First hers and then his until both Archer and Fable were laughing hysterically in the darkness. I couldn’t see, outside the door was I, but hearing them make each other laugh was like a remote control falling ninety-five stories onto my head.


I paused, waited for their laughter to subside into silence. Then I turned around.

"If they didn't share a room they wouldn't be able to make each other laugh in the dark," I said to Hal. "Fuck a good night's sleep when there are moments like that."

Hal agreed.

"I need to chill out."

Hal agreed.

I stopped refreshing craigslist. Swept the floor. Made the bed... watched the children sleep.

Content. Safe. Sweet dreams.
... ... ...

Today, after dropping Archer off at school, I came to the coffee shop to write as I do three mornings a week. I took a swig of my latte, opened up my computer to resume work on a script and wrote this post instead.

It was the first time in a long time that I wanted to blog. That I really, truly wanted to share in a non-obligatory way.

Because last night I had an epiphany that gave me permission to slow down. Because, contrary to all the ways I've been pushing myself this past year, the spinning of wheels with vibrating wings, I stopped still and was happy. And now, as I write this post I am reminded of why I started this blog in the first place: so I could work my shit out.

... ... ...

It's clear to me now that we don’t need to move tomorrow. Or even next month.

Because the children are happy sharing a room. And most of the time I'm happy writing about my life, talking about my experiences.

Of course it isn't all awesome all the time. (Nothing is.)

Of course there will be nights when the kids wake each other up and none of us get any sleep. Just like there will be days when I’m tired and scared of sharing – sick of the sight of “I” and “me” on my Blogger and Movable type templates. Stagnated in my own hypothetical puke and predictability.

1. I'm lucky.
2. We're lucky.
3. All of the above.
The truth is, changing homes and jobs isn't going to answer all of life's questions. I've realized dreams before only to wake up the next morning and feel just as defeated. It never goes away - the drive - the need to move forward- to change - to want to make your family, friends (even strangers) proud.

At least, it never has for me.

But I have to remind myself that fulfillment comes in all forms. Perhaps, then, it will be my finest life achievement to learn to be happy with what I have. To be ambitious, sure, but also to be content, here. In this moment - buzzed on caffeine and realizations.

I'm happy where I am. I recognize that today. I recognized that the moment I sat down to work on a script and wrote a blog entry instead. I recognized that last night when we went to see the perfect house and I didn’t feel at home.

One day our family will move and I will move on. Pull my life and my kids from the infinity of the Internet, label large cardboard boxes with a sharpie and move into our dream house, but for now? I must recognize the importance of sharing. For my children on the nights they laugh each other to sleep. For myself on days like today when with all my heart I want to share my life with you.