The amount of boys in the house today is fluctuating between five and seven. They are playing video games. Together. It's a small miracle there isn't more fighting, and the noise level is tolerable. The baby is kicking like crazy, like she's worried she'll be forgot in the chaos. No worries. Big brother has now began to notice the baby bump and she gets greeted more frequently than myself. He kisses the belly sometimes. His face is the perfect height to ram it right into her. It's good, right? That she gets used to that sort of thing now?
We are moving on Saturday. Again. It's strange to think this chapter of our lives is ending. Going back to the silence of the three of us will take some getting used to. Sometimes I look at the four boys piled on the couch and the four of us adults trying desperately to rein them in for scriptures and prayers and I want to freeze everything. You'd think with the one on one ratio of child to adult, it'd be a little easier. It's not. And somehow, that's comforting.
Being a writer gives you a different perspective on a chapter ending. You usually put it in the place that would most urge someone to read on. A Circle of Sisters is published. We are moving. My hubby is graduated from college. The baby we've waited for is finally coming. This is way too neat and tidy of a place to end a chapter.
On further thought, maybe this isn't the end of a chapter, but the book. So I'm bound to feel a little sad. But sometimes we need endings. We like things to wrap up and look nice.
And then I always want to know the rest of the story. So on Saturday I'm going to start the sequel.
I can't really tell you want it will be about. God has been silent on that part so far. But I've learned the more you write, the better you get at it. I expect if that holds true to life, this next book will be better than the last.