It feels a little different this time. Perhaps it’s because I have a kid and if there is anything I want him to know and take with him is that if there is something that tugs at his heart, he does it fully and repeatedly. Words come to me easy but the part of doing it (you know, writing, etc.) all the time doesn’t. Its sort of like pending talent. Or perhaps un-blossomed. Inward still. I’d like it to be constant now. At the very least something I partake in frequently. I'd like for it to remind me of who I was then and who I am becoming now. Mommy brain means having all sorts of pieces trying to find their corner and rightful spot. Paintings waiting to be rendered and mastered. Its a slow process, this becoming part. We are almost at year. I still can’t believe it, really. What my body has done and endured. How my heart has expanded and how all these feelings (so many feelings) have shown me what a range I have.
Boy wonder is everything and my beloved is just as amazed and tired as I am. To become someone’s parent means to remember your own mission while guiding someone onto theirs. It’s really fucking hard. Balance? More like a schedule. Create a routine to remind you of your dreams and of course, obligations. No one has the answer. But so many have opinions. Facebook mom groups are the worst and best thing. Instagram will make you feel like you’re never going to snap back. And it’s still so weird to show the world your life on line, but we do it anyway because mothering alone is criminal. So, this writing thing here is a way for me to share what I am learning along the way.
So here I am, committing to writing and doing this blog thing. If you see me, remind me.