Taking Pictures

I don't know where it's gone. My desire to write, I mean.
It's gone.
It's not at work. I know that. And it's not here at home, either. Maybe it's just hiding away. Before, when I would go through rough patches in my life, I would always write. I would write horrid, dark poems when I was a teenager, full of angst and woe. And as I grew older, I kept various journals in which I'd rant or moan or lament.
This time, I'm quiet.
Maybe when things get better, I'll want to write again.
I feel for those of you who've stuck it out and who still visit me here (incidentally, thank you! and, erm, sorry for the boring-ness!).
So, I shall ply you with pictures. Pretty pictures of my pretty children! Look at the pretty children!
Caleb! SMILE!
Okay! Okay, but this time! Smile! Like, with your mouth and stuff! Yeah!

Ah! Better! Now you, Aidan! Smile!

Well! Well, that was interesting! But how about this time smile AND look at ME instead of the TV? Yeah? Okay!

WHEE! Now Liam! Okay well I'm going to cheat with this one because the kid was hungry and also grumpy and he wouldn't stop alternately trying to eat the camara and shoving his little baby fingers far into the cavernous innards of my nostrils. So I have included here, for you to see, and picture of the back of my boy's head. Because look! Look at the delicious golden hair! The shimmery curly-ness of it all! Oh, rapture!

Pretty!

And now, for a picture of me doing something called, "Facilitation of Rapid Swelling of the Tips of the Fingers of the Left Hand." This is exacerbated by the fact that I haven't touched the guitar in years. Oh, the pain. But Liam loved it he stood in front of me, his hands on my knees, and bounced to the music...so, it was very much worth it.