Its been a while since I have written anything. There has always been something getting in the way until I just forgot that I loved to write. I love to write about life, politics, exercise, crafts, make believe, and of course, love.
I started this blog to motivate me to keep writing but that lasted all of two seconds before I stopped. In my defense, my computer crashed and being financially challenged didn't really allow for my computer to get fixed or replaced very swiftly. In-between my old computer crashing and my current moment of inspiration, life happened. Darn that thing called life, always getting in the way when you are just trying to live it…
Anyway, life is changing, like it tends to do, and I have been guided back to writing. I even started cleaning out the old cobwebs in the blog. Maybe I will start using it for some motivation again. But I kind of enjoy the idea of not worrying about what my writing looks like but rather what is says. That's the problem with today, well, one of the many. Everything has to look good. And if it doesn’t? What then? Why does it matter what a blog looks like if the content rocks? So, when cleaning up the blog and changing things around, I went from bright and busy to clean, fresh. Its time to focus on the words, on getting back to the things that matter.
Like me. I matter. Well, in my world, I matter. I am a mom, and often times that becomes a defining factor in a woman’s life. Something beautiful happens when you have gone through months of pregnancy, hours of exhausting labor, and painfully give birth to a bowling ball. Something sweeps over you and you switch from being an independent fashionista with a career dream, musical preferences, and good hygiene, to a mom. One word. “Mom.” Your world shifts, along with your priorities and focus. All that matters is your child(ren) is happy and healthy. If that means I choose to sleep instead of shower during my free moment then so be it. I wouldn't trade being a mom for the world. Baby snuggles, middle of the night doctor trips, Tball practices, and snotty kisses; its simply magic. However, as my kiddos get older and my experience grows, I understand that I don’t have to describe myself in one word. I don’t have to be just mom. It can be like my preschool teacher said (or, you know, my son’s teacher), I can be whatever I want to be. Sure I am about six times older than I was then and time is not on my side. But screw you time! I don’t need you to tell me I can't do something just because I”m getting older. Since when does creativity have an age limit? Oh that's right, it doesn’t!
So here I am, taking my son’s teacher’s encouragement (even though she never intended it to apply to me) and I am going to start adding adjectives to my description. Starting from scratch, with a fresh clean template. My story continues growing.