There have been quite a few times in the last months of my blog-silence that I have thought “Oh I should write about that…” or “That’s a good tagline, write that down somewhere…” all to the dismay of instantly being distracted by another thought that spirals into a fury of more important to-do’s; “Did I feed the children?? Are they wearing coats? Is their coat too puffy to be strapped into their car seat with them? Should I take a CPR class? You never know when you need to know the Heimlich…” This all ends with the overwhelming feeling that I am just not getting enough done.
I’ve also spent the last few months incessantly reading through random articles, blogs, scrolling through Instagram and skimming Facebook to try to inhale better parenting/wife/friend/cleaning/organizing/designing/DIYing/dieting tips, hoping that just by reading these things or staring at a picture long enough of the perfect kitchen, it will somehow transform my own 70s shamble.
I took a long break from writing for many reasons. None of which were really intentional. I love to write. It is freeing for me. It allows my never ending trail of thought to S L O W D O W N for a few minutes. It allows me to remember how to spell. (Not having time to read books or write has made me worried I’ve become dyslexic, just one more thing to worry about). But mostly, I’ve been lost as to what I want my voice to be here. I’ve been so consumed by the thought that I must find my “niche” in this blogging world, that I’ve forgotten that it shouldn’t really matter. I need to write – its therapeutic and that’s all that really matters right now. It is a space for ME. There is very little space for me in my life right now it feels, so this is a space that I can come to and just let go.
Sometimes I want to share something that we’ve made, sometimes I want to share a recipe like I know how to cook (I assure you, I absolutely do not), and sometimes (most times) I want to write about my life as it is currently. The struggles, survival and real times so that maybe someone else reading can say “YAAASSS girl, me too!!” and I can make them grin a little and be thankful this madness is not just happening to them.
BEING is hard. Being a wife is hard, being a mom is hard, being a mom to a strong-willed FOUR year old is hard. And the boy. ALL BOY. Smacking heads, black eyes, mischievous grin, eating playdoh and crayons like he’s starving but chucking all properly edible food, hugs and cuddles so you melt and forget all the above mentioned things… Being a stay at home mom and not working in the corporate world is hard. Being someone that can’t even jump out of the car to do that one tiny errand in the store is hard, since the thought of wrangling two kids in and out of the car just to pick up prescription makes me want to gouge my eyes out. (Too intense?)
I am working on finding time to be still. To be able to calm my ever running mind to a very quiet place so that I can recharge. Do you know how hard it is to quiet a mind that seems to be screaming things you need to write down, check off, clean, do, do, do, do….??
Today’s blog post is one of exhaustion. I want to jump back in the saddle, to free myself by writing. I apologize in advance if you were hoping to find another DIY project…today, and for the next couple times, it will be mostly about my life and how I am getting through it.