Today


The plan WAS to make these really quick photo updates for the months I’d missed until MC’s birthday, then start blogging again on the regular.

But then the damn mice got in the way with their glee or whatever.

And I’ll be honest, I don’t know where this is going. WordPress has evolved since the last time we hung out, and I’m just a teensy bit lost. I have no real vision for this space other then the ADHD-fueled verbal (finger?) diarrhea pit it’s become.

And maybe I just need to be okay with that. My life isn’t organized by any stretch of the imagination, and organization has never been my strong suite. I tried reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and developed palpitations. So why would I expect something different from a blog?

See, I set these expectations, and then get all intimidated by them, avoiding them as a result. Something profound about attempts and failure would go really well right here. Feel free to fill in your own blanks.

Facebook has a new(ish) feature that lets you look back on your social media presence through the years. There’s also TimeHop for you app-savvier folk. Two years ago, I was deep in my first first trimester, blissfully oblivious to what August would hurl at me.

And it’s got me thinking about this pile of keystrokes I have just sort of…festering? nah, too gruesome…marinating? yes! Tasty, delicious marinade…marinating over here, patiently waiting for me to wander back around to it. Maybe, regardless of its ability to resemble anything remotely master-planned, I need to come back and unleash my fingers on the keys, free form whatever comes to mind, or needs to be fleshed out from my brain. Maybe it doesn’t matter that this place is a mess. I’m a mess. I kind of like it that way. Yeah, I wish I could get the laundry done in a timely manner, but… that’s probably not going happen, ever. I have unfinished thoughts on our miscarriage that deserve to be made whole. I have so many thoughts and feelings on MC’s diagnosis and birth that I need to get down in some form before I forget them (what I can remember of them anyway).

I can’t guarantee anybody reads this, so why should I worry about making it “pretty?” So what if somebody (who’s not Dave, bless him) DOES read it. This is my space, and it should reflect who I am as a person, delightfully difficult as that may be to…uhm…handle?

This has become one of those long, rambling, paragraphed posts I’m liable to skim over on anybody else’s blog, maybe.

TL;DR? I think I’m going to start blogging again, maybe. There’s a chance I’ll say important things.

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