Silence is a Virtue, Right?

Or at least, silence is golden.  At any rate, it's been a while.

If only I could just duck right back in, as though it hasn't been, like, ages since I posted on my Blog.  If only I could just pick up, and write about whatever it is I'm thinking or doing today.  Give a real glimpse on who I am, and what I do, as I set out to do when I started writing this Blog last year.

If only I wasn't a fraud.  Or, at least, plagued with feelings of being a fraud.

It's been an interesting run, this 2012.  So much has happened.  So much.  And in my Plan as a blogger, I visualized myself letting my fingers fly as I go through this journey of life, sharing with my readers the ins and outs of being a Family Crisis survivor, and what life is like on The Other Side.  Turns out, there are times when my fingers kind of curl up, and my mind freezes.

Which has been the biggest shock of all.  See, I process things deeply, and if you know me, you'll know that I process in two very predictable ways:  I talk about it, and I write about it.  I do not, do not, process by mulling over my thoughts in secret.  The Silent Treatment has never been my M.O.

But yet, I've been largely silent for 6-7 weeks.  WTH?!

This, in itself, is my story lately.  My Silence.  It's the very thing going on in my life that I would be writing about, if I were writing.  Problem is, it's boring.  How can I write about that?  About feeling silent?  And offer it to you to read?  It works as a reflective I Remember When... thing, when I write about that time I fell into silence, but as an up-to-the-minute journal, not so much.

But, in this time, so much has happened.  The last post I published was on the demise of my beloved Chevy Venture Minivan (bless her soul).

I'm still without a car.  Seriously.  In fact, I did write about it weeks ago, but my Editor (Hugo) feared I came off too self-righteously, as I ranted about how AWESOME it was to save the crazy money we've been saving, so that we could buy a car responsibly.  Not what I was going for, that self-righteous thing, so I freaked out and shelved it.

On that issue of Self-Righteousness.  I've been learning that when you are a person with deep convictions and feelings about things and the world in general, and you want to be heard, and you couple those convictions and that need to be heard with a deeper sense of insecurity, you come off as self-righteous.  I see how this is possible.  Especially when you mix into the pot a real history of self-righteousness, such as is mine.  Wanting to deviate as far away from such things, I try and catch myself.  And when I don't, I submit myself into the loving nets of people close to me who can point out moments reminiscent of self-righteousness.  So, when there is something I'm spouting about passionately, and I'm gently nudged by my husband that I'm sounding a little, well, self-righteous, I listen, and I quiet myself.

And I've been so quiet.

I've missed writing about some moments.  Moments like a bus ride to visit my sister at the hospital.  That one was an adventure, involving lots of nice people, including a helpful Jewish Rabbi in a wheel chair, and a sweet college boy in a black fedora, showing my scared and mildly shaking self to the right bus bench at the Montclair Transit Center.  That whole experience was actually incredibly good.

There was the appointment with Lee's neurologist when we were told that his MRI at Children's Hospital LA showed no signs of the Chiari Malformation that was found on an MRI back in 2010.  Great news, yes, but what?!  We're kind of freaking out about getting such conflicting reports, and we're collecting data and heading to a third opinion.  Best two out of three, right?

I had a birthday in there.  Forty-five.  I'm so full of myself now, sure that I'm right about most things.  (Note, please, that there is that layer of insecurity that mixes in to make me appear self-righteous.)

A new baby nephew joined the family, and we all prayed through many a night while the little guy fought through RSV.  He's a tough little boy, and he's doing very, very well.

Tessa got a temporary job, working for a local florist, and she got a car.  She and Danielle also found themselves on the Dean's List at their college.  And Abi is on the Assistant Principal's Honor Roll at her school.  And Adam is sliding into his final months of high school, and Lee is doing algebra in the 1st grade.  It's been a good academic first weeks of 2012.

Yesterday Hugo and I celebrated our second anniversary.  This is what I had to say about that on Facebook yesterday:

Two years ago today, I married the Man of my Dreams. A Cary Grant of a man who not only married the lady with all those kids, but he took all those kids into his heart to raise, and love, and father. I married a man who is the puzzle board which holds all the pieces of marriage I had spent my life trying to make fit before. I married a man with a simple, and pure love for God, void of self righteousness and pride. I married the man in my Betty Crocker Cookbook (a hard one to explain, but very significant to me). I am so thankful to be married to Hugo Ambriz. He has brought life to all my dreams, all my ideals, and he's a whole lotta

We dined at our favorite Italian restaurant, Pozzetto, in San Dimas, and we had a beautiful night.  The older kids took Lee over, and they made their own dinner, and they cleaned up after themselves, and everything.

I don't quite know what to make of my silence lately, and I really have no clue where it is taking me, but one thing I do know.  Life is awesome, I'm enjoying the things that matter like never before, and I'm going through a growth spurt.  And it feels so good to be writing about it!

Even though I don't know why my font is freaking out on me since I copied and pasted from Facebook.  And I don't really care to find out right now.  I think that instead, I'll just leave it, and hit the Publish Post button on the bottom of my screen. Oh, how I love that button.