I Wanted to Write About....

The great thing about this blournal is that I allow myself complete control (or lack of) when it comes to consistency. If I make multiple entries a day, that's okay with me. If I don't have anything to say for a week, that is okay, too.

The last few days have been awesome, but as I sat down to write about them, the words were stilted. Too much and too little, all at once.

I wanted to write about how hard and lonely and just off it felt to have Appa away for 2 long weeks and how proud I was of myself for not only surviving, but actually creating a great few weeks for both myself and my boy. I actually enjoyed myself.

I wanted to write about wine and girlfriends and how thankful I am for both.

I wanted to write about leaving my boys at 4 am, just hours after Appa got home. The conflicting emotions that ran through my heart as Little Bug woke up and wailed for me, rejecting his beloved Appa over and over. That's never happened before, and I'd be lying if said I didn't replay the scene over and over again with some measure of joy that my role as mama was finally meaning something special and exclusive to Little Bug.

I wanted to write about how special it is to have a best friend like Ali(ce). Spending time with her is like stepping back into my past, only as my present self. It is comfortable and fun and leaves me happy. Just really, truly happy. Even just a few hours. And how she bought Little Bro a crinkle lion lovie to send in a care package, only to exchange it for something else when she saw my latest care package post with the same crinkle lion already included that I had purchased without knowing she had bought him one. Ha.

I wanted to write about holding my infant nephew in my arms and being absolutely terrified. I'm the oldest of five and have held more than my fair share of babies, but now that I am a mother, the fragile nature of an infant terrified me.

I wanted to write about how kissing his head felt like warm peaches.

I wanted to write about laying on the couch for hours while Itty Bitty slept on my chest. How is felt so wonderful, and yet, it didn't make me wish for that moment with my own babies. In fact, the limiting nature of providing for an infant actually made me secretly glad that I didn't have to go through that…although it made me feel about a million times more grateful when I thought about my sons' foster mothers putting in all the time and effort and sacrifice for children they knew they might never see grow up. That makes me so sad and so grateful.

I lied. There was a part of me that wanted to know if kissing Little Bug and Little Bro's heads felt like warm peaches. I hope their birth mothers were able to have that experience for themselves.

I wanted to write about my long, honest, candid talks with my sister….the one who was never supposed to be my confidant. The relief that comes with knowing one other person in the world who is dealing with many of the exact same issues as you are…What a wonderful life surprise.

I wanted to write about getting my nephew addicted to Pororo and my little sister addicted to Kdramas. I'm not sure why that brings me such amusement.

I wanted to write about family and love and friendship and life, but I just don't have the words.

Perhaps my kid needs to puke again to break this writer's block.