I started this blog years ago under the guise that I wanted to record my first years of parenthood and the development of my young children. The truth is I have had this internal nagging that I wanted to write. I frequently joke that I want to be a write like Lawman wants to be a professional baseball player. I even started to believe this myself. But, now, as I have entered a new season of parenthood....the season I call, the beginning of the rest of my life, the twitch in my soul to write has become an annoying tug that will not stop.
I have loved parenting young children. The daily rewards of cute smiles and new discoveries. The initial monotony of it all became a rhythm that taught me to slow down and enjoy the moment. Each moment, even the frustrating ones were sacred. Now the boys are far from grown, but I sense a change. A change in my role in their lives. I no longer need to do everything for them and I don’t get to share every experience with them. You know I was offended the first time someone told me about something Big Guy did when I wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe he was living life without me. Luckily, when that happened with Little Guy, I was prepared and I did not give the sweet teacher near the stink eye I had before.
Now, I hesitate to post too much about the boys. I want them to have their privacy and room to grow without the outside world judging them....as if no one else has ever had a three hour meltdown just to complete their homework in 5 minutes.
A new season is beginning and I struggle like many women who stay home to care for their children to find what is next for me. This is where I find myself, back where I started years ago. I want to write. I would love to be published, but I can not write under that type of pressure. So, I will tell my story just for the sake of telling it.
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