motherhood

So…it’s only 18 days after Mother’s Day…{epic face palm}. I promise that I have very good reasons for my inability to blog on a more frequent schedule. Kids, man! Garden, man! The real reason, though, is that writing about my mom, my mom-in-law, several grandmas, and my own journey into the land of motherhood is kind of overwhelming. Animals, garden, etc…those posts kind of write themselves. Tap a few great pictures, fun title and away we go. Motherhood is a different writing process altogether.

I’ve tried to write this post 3 different times now. The first was the real, down and dirty “motherhood is hard, and I feel like a failure” post. The second was about how awesome my mom is especially given the new adventure she is about to embark on (teaching 3rd grade at an all boys charter school in the Bronx! Yeah Buddy!). The last attempt was talking about my own kids and what I love and what drives me crazy about them. All of them are part of what motherhood is for me and what Mother’s Day was about. But as I’ve been standing here writing and deleting and writing some more…I’ve decided that while it is all these things, it’s so much simpler than that. Motherhood is a gift that I’ve been given. An opportunity to become the very best version of myself. There are women who have been placed in my life that have been amazing guides and mentors and I’m grateful to them. My kids push me and sometimes I do fail. [side note: for someone who has declared herself born to a life of mucking various types of animal poop (and I truly enjoy mucking much more than I probably should), I have a surprisingly low tolerance for human poop and pee…potty training has been a joy.]

So how about I stick to what comes easy? At least for this season in my blogging life I’m going to go with the external…the documenting our life on the farm. I’m Hereby giving Myself permission to Not write about anything deeply Philosophical (unless its the necessity of painful mosquito bites. Totally unnecessary). No metaphysical Musing on the meaning of life (unless it’s my children’s first, for-real firefly season. Now there is a creature that is allowed to exist for purely aesthetic reasons). Now I’m off to tap pictures and think of witty titles for all the posts writing themselves in my head!

 

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