So. . .

I lost touch with the blog again, obviously.

I do love the blog.

Not well, obviously.

The blog is like that dear, long-time friend that you don't get to see very often but when you do? It's like no time has passed.

I'm not even looking at when the last time I posted was, because it doesn't matter. This blog is my dear friend, and it's like no time has passed.

Except, you know, my kids are now 14, 12 and 10. The blog will turn 12 right before my middle child turns 13 in a couple of months, if you'd like some perspective on that. So time has passed, obviously.

My kids are really interesting and independent and delightful these days, even when they are having puberty moments. I'm decidedly less so, especially when I am having reverse puberty moments.

(FYI, I used "reverse puberty" to describe menopause to Ironflower BEFORE that NY Times article about it came out. And this is part of my real inspiration for posting. If I'd blogged that before the article came out, I'd have proof I'm just as clever as people at the Times.) 

Reverse puberty sucks, obviously. But it's way better than the alternative. Hell, it's better than original puberty. Let me tell ya, if you thought watching your kid learn to walk was painful? Watching them navigate middle school is terrible. Probably because I keep having flashbacks to all those times I thought I looked cute rocking a side pony and socks over nylons. Also,  my kids go to a wonderful school and are neurotypical and have few academic struggles. Their (our?) struggles could be so much worse.

And I realize that I'm sort of talking like Hugmonkey is in puberty too. That's because I'm pretty sure he is, despite being a tiny 10 year old with no physical manifestations of it. It's like it's contagious.

Anyway, despite taking on a much bigger (but still technically freelance part-time) job, and volunteering too much and trying to exercise more. . .I think I'm coming back to blogging. I mean, I need to do something with this reverse puberty insomnia I'm desperately trying to embrace instead of bitch about it.

(Obviously that's not going very well)

Just, uh, don't expect consistency.

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