There are times in life where you can feel like you can handle the world. Okay, there are times in life where other people, meaning you all, feel like you can handle the world; I can barely handle bringing in the groceries by myself. But usually there is a sense and order to my life that I enjoy. Blogging was always part of it. A piece of me. A place to share my little stories. But then I got uninspired. At first it was because I was celebrating having our family all back together again, with Brian coming home, then I felt like my little stories were too little to share. Dumb. I started thinking about who was reading it out in the world instead of who I write for. Me. My kids. Their someday spouses. Their someday children.
So I stopped.
Then something unexpected happened. I found out that our complete family of six, wasn't as complete as I thought. In other words, I began puking again on a daily basis. I began looking for the bathrooms first in every store. I started wishing for a nap an hour after I woke up. And my kids started spouting off random baby names in any given moment of the day. (Jedi! Zeke! Turtle!)
My life quickly became about what I could do to survive. My poor family. But weeks and weeks have passed. Wonderful drugs have been consumed (by me, of course), and here I sit, sixteen weeks into it, feeling like I am coming out of a fog. I have even been cooking dinner! Okay so maybe it was bagel bites and bagged salad and strawberries on paper plates, but it's an improvement people. That's the point.
So I feel ready to bring my life back into this blog. To bring back my meaningless stories, average pictures, and petty complaints. Which should have you wondering, "Why do I read this again?" in no time at all.
