So, a blog. I will now join the legions of stay-at-home moms with no time to spare but who have access to a computer and need to release some sort of creative energy, so we blog. We almost all have some level of education past high school, and most of us had jobs, if not careers, before we made a conscious decision to stay home with our darling offspring. After that, we’re as varied as any other group of moms, but there’s a bunch of us, and you probably want to read my blog like you want to come help me clean up after my three heath, uh, I mean precious angels.
Yet, here we are. I have the time, well, no I don’t, but I’ll make it. I have the need to run my mouth, um, I mean be creative in some way. I obviously have the computer. So, here we go. I will blog, you will read, and hopefully comment. Or I won’t. Or you won’t. Whatever.
I start this project as an attempt to record some of the history of our family that seems to be flying by me. I want to grab some and throw it on the page before it’s too late. It seems the least I can do for my children growing up in this digital age. Their entire life has been recorded in some digital format and it seems only decent of me to record it from my perspective. And, me being the person I am, will not miss the opportunity to put things in the light of my perspective, to tell you what I was thinking, and to generally try to spin the story to my best light. 🙂
You can meet the flock with more detail later. Right now, let’s cover today. It’s a snow day. Those glorious two words that every child loves to hear upon opening their eyes to a sea of white outside their bedroom window. I had planned to get a lot of my own schoolwork done today, but that plan is out the window. I have showered and we will consider that a huge accomplishment today. It’s going to be a long summer, for sure.
The Birdie Girl and Middle Bird (9 and almost 8) are in the basement still wearing their pajamas at ten minutes past three. At some point Birdie Girl turned hers back to right-side-in, but Middle Bird still sports the tags on the outside. Who started that, anyway? I grew up in Georgia so maybe we just didn’t have it down South, but here the kids wear their PJs inside out when they’re hoping for a snow day and my kids are two for two this year.
Baby Bird, just turned three last month, is in the family room watching The Polar Express and sporting a Pull-up. I’m sure you will be hearing about this potty training crisis in the near future. For now, he’s worn me out. He wears a diaper. Whatever. It’s not like he’s headed to middle school yet.
I sit here at the kitchen table comprising mental lists that I should write down. I use Evernote and I love it, but I rarely get around to making my lists on paper or the computer. Grocery lists (we’re almost out of milk, we could use some Pull-Ups), housework lists (there’s still laundry in the washer from last night, I promised Bird Dude I’d make the bed since we make the kids do it), other lists. I wish someone would make a pot of coffee. Guess that will be me, too.
It’s a good life. And if you catch me complaining about it ever, please feel free to correct me. I have MANY blessings and I mean to remember them. I want to remember to be grateful. I have wonderful, healthy children, a fabulous husband who adores me with all my flaws, an extended family and group of friends who are quirky and wonderful and crazy, too. I live in a state I love, in a city I love. My kids go to good schools. We have plenty to eat, too much probably, and plenty of choices about where to buy it and how to prepare it. I have a church family that I love, and that challenges me to think about my faith and how I present and share it with the world.
My life is good and I know it. My children are oblivious to it, which is wonderful and a curse, but we’ll deal with that more and more as they grow.
If you read, please comment. I crave interaction, being that kind of weird extrovert! Of course, you don’t have to, but it would be great.