One Heck of a Year

Well, It has been a year. A year, and a new house. A year, a new house, and a baby. A year, a new house, a baby and three shows. It has been a big year. 

We bought a house, a thing I wasn't sure we would ever do, in the city that we love. A special, lovely, old house in the mid city neighborhood of Los Angeles. We moved in July and occasionally Jim and I will randomly make eye contact and just sigh at each other, saying, "I love this house." We love this house. It feels like it has a soul. It feels like home. 


We had a baby, a boy shaped human named Jack. He is very new and very yummy. Longer and leaner than any of my other babes, I have taken to calling him Shrimpy, a nickname I am sure he will love when he is sixteen and taller than I am. It seems odd to say, since he is only six weeks old, but he strikes me as the serious sort. He will round out our crazy bunch nicely. Everyone is smitten, but Penny, who called dibs on holding him first when I was only a few weeks pregnant, is over the moon. She calls him Jacky-Wacky, and begs to hold him, especially when he is sleeping or nursing or anytime that he is content to not be held. 


I did three shows, more than I would have normally tackled in a year before we had kids. It was a lot. It was rewarding. I'm glad I did it. I probably won't do it again. Probably. 

I did not write a single usable word. Apparently, I can not write when I am pregnant, which is perfectly fine, because I plan on NEVER BEING PREGNANT AGAIN. (#finalfelton) Also, in this past year, the way I see the world has shifted. There are realities of living in America that I didn't have to confront before, things I could look away from, that are impossible to ignore now. I've been doing a lot of listening and a lot of learning in this past year. I still have a long way to go. 

All that to say, I'm back. I'm hoping to write at least once a week, to keep a record of our big little family growing and loving each other in Los Angeles, my favorite big little city. 

Still, not sure how today ends.