And he's off!

My baby has learned how to crawl down the stairs. This is a big deal for him. It means freedom. Freedom to roam the house at will. Freedom to join all the other kids downstairs without mom hauling him down. Freedom to try and escape through the front door. Oh wait. He does not have that kind of freedom. But he's honestly dreaming about it.

Oh my. He is the cutest.

Lorflor

Just got off the phone with one of my sisters.

She is this awesomely talented artist and landscape designer. But mostly, she is just an awesome person.

We shared a room for several years when I was in High School. She's six years younger than me and we had an awesome time. She was my favorite roomie {No offense to my other home roommates!} And I was always the one getting in trouble when we would stay up late talking. Or making faces at each other with the help of the flashlight. My dad always said I was keeping her up! {Why, could it not have been the other way around?}

We had fun hanging up Christmas lights and positioning them just so. We made midnight runs to taco bell or to get cheap cocoa packets. Good times, good time.

A few weeks ago we went to a Toad the Wet Sprocket concert in SLC. Now that was a good time. Love those blasts from the past.

This is my sis. She has a cool new art project going on: The Lorflor Project. Check it out.

five

As of yesterday this little blog has been around for 5 years.

My, where does the time go?

Obviously somewhere, and not always towards blogging, that's for sure.

The flow was in the early years and the ebb is now, but that's sort of my life.

Flowing in other places at the moment.

Still, fun ride.

Thanks to any and all who read, comment, etc.

10,000 hours

According to Malcolm Gladwell, I need to spend 10,000 hours at something to have a chance at being really good at it.

It seems then, that I should be a fantastic and amazing parent having been at it for 9+ years. But parenting by it's very nature requires one to multi-task in ways never imagined before embarking on the journey. And so I am an adequate parent (spending my time at attempted meal planning, discipline, house cleaning etc., etc., etc.) just as I am a semi-adequate piano player, a decent writer, a once-upon-a-time fair dancer, and so on.

It makes me wonder: what dreams that I vaguely hold to have any chance of coming true? Pondering this is only disconcerting on a certain level. The things I am most committed to in my life are not wholly measurable. I am okay with this, given my personality and my priorities. I am content to be a Jack of all trades, master of none. There might be time in the future for other, more focused attempts at something specific.

Might be.

For now the task before me is to decide how long to let the baby cry in his crib before giving up on his afternoon nap.

These are the types of solemn questions that lie before me on a daily basis. I suppose I have gained in the skill of knowing how to answer them. Or at least, I am able to make an educated guess.