I am truly the worst at keeping this space going. So many times I’ve thought of just shutting it down because seriously, what’s the point of having a blog up and running that’s not truly up-and-running? It’s kind of insane. I just about make the decision to deactivate it and then I realize that I’m a person who values quality over quantity and doesn’t quite care whether I have thousands (or even hundreds or less) readers. As long as something I write resonates with someone – even one person! – I’m happy and proud of that.
So here I am. Typing. I haven’t been on my laptop writing anything in what seems like so long. There’s something wrong with my trusty ol’ Macbook Pro – she’s on the fritz. The battery just won’t keep for long anymore and I never liked using the cord, so I never have much time. It’s funny how much I liken myself to this old machine lately – my battery doesn’t keep for long anymore either.
It kind of annoys me how almost everything I talk about lately likens back to parenthood (check out my Twitter account if you’re interested in some silly anecdotes), but that’s where I am right now. I didn’t want to be that person; the one who only talks about motherhood or her child, etc., etc., but the fact of the matter is everything in my day, every single moment, and every part of me revolves around my tiny little human. She’s amazing. She’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I honestly wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me I’d feel this way this time last year, even when I was pregnant, but it’s true. I was so worried I wouldn’t fall immediately in love with her, but I did. Immediately and fiercely. Sometimes I joke around about how scary it is what I would do for her; that I would tear out throats with my teeth for her if I had to, but what’s really scary is I’m not joking at all. Boo! Happy Halloween.
My batteries don’t keep for very long these days because, even though we’re out of the newborn stage, being a parent to an infant is hard. Since I wasn’t one of those girls who ever looked after small children when I was growing up or – gasp! – even truly liked them, I couldn’t fathom how tired I’d be once I’d had a child of my own. I’ve just recently learned that the key to it all is to not sit down without something to occupy me (but not a book, or I’ll be asleep within ten minutes). My days are pretty much as standard as they used to be before T was born – I still get up at six and am in bed between nine and ten ‘o’ clock – but they’re so much more active. Now, unless T is sleeping, it’s go-go-go! all the time. She is a very active eight-month-old – crawling full tilt, standing on her own, already taking tentative first steps, and demanding for any person bigger than herself to hold her up by her hands and walk her everywhere. It’s positively exhausting. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but that’s part of why I haven’t really been around these parts – once I sit down at the end of the day, I’m down for the count.
This post is starting to turn out like a brain dump, but maybe that’s just where I’m at now. I’ve always maintained that I would remain true to this space – that I wouldn’t sugarcoat things; that I wouldn’t post for content’s sake; that I would tell it like it is. So here I am: this is me now. Tired, but happier than I’ve ever been; lacking words, but not really able to shut up. Being a mother has already changed me in so many ways and I’d love to write about them, but maybe not right now. I’m trying to ease back into this as best I can. Maybe no one will even read this. If you are – hello. I’ll be back soon.