Catch Up |

Gosh darn it people, I am such a hot and cold writer. One minute, I am starting new blogs, having all sorts of interesting things to talk about, and the next minute, I am taking a virtual vow of silence for three months. Oops. Well after having three months to conjour up plenty of noteworthy thoughts, please excuse me while I write 249435 blog posts this week. Hot and cold I tell ya. #sorrynotsorry. (What? It isn't cool to use arbitrary hashtags outside social media? Oops again.)

Life has been busy. I guess such is true for everyone. I now am a proud momma of a 10 month old; consequently, I spend the majority of my days chasing his [alarmingly quick] crawl-getaways, fishing miscellaneous inedibles from his mouth, and dissuading him from from outlets.

All of his energy and enthusiasm for life comes with the counterpart of a growing personality. He is so much fun. I know, the non-parents in the building are shaking their heads with pity at such an asinine claim. Rightfully so, non-parents. I'lll be the first to admit that "fun" doesn't look the same anymore. What was once adventure and self-exploration and ad-lib and whimsy is now exchanged with big-brother reason and homebodyness and stability and predictability. That being said, I can without reservation say that watching my Little learn and bloom fills my heart with purpose and genuine joy more than any fleeting adrenaline rush or spontaneity or being young and wild and free. He is fun. Being a mom is fun. I am happy to be the airplane spoon pilot, the lullaby singer, the toy coraler and the mid-night soother. I've traded any hope for designer clothes in for spit-up and sweet potato stained versions. I'm skipping over the young twenties night life of martinis and cosmos for night-feedings that bring early mornings and triple-shot espresso. Happily. 

That being said, I can't help but occasionally long for freedom and full nights' sleep and the abandon of responsibility. It's hard sometimes to quiet my unsatisfied soul and find peace and completeness in the crossfire of dirty diapers and Cheerio casualties. To stop coveting other grass and continually water my own. Remembering the tradeoff for freedom and fun sometimes feels like loneliness and insecurity. So now, as my Little Whirlwind wakes with a vengeance and cries for my rescue from his crib-jail, I will embrace the fun and joy and fulfillment that is being needed. Having the stability and warmth of a home filled with the people I love that many only dream of. Being invaluable to his little world. Being his momma.