Now, naturally, things are significantly different. Even this morning, as I chose to wake up early to essentially shotgun a cup of coffee and sit down with our shiny new laptop (purchased with a portion what we had been saving as Big Move money, the rest of which now will be poured into some investment account or another) my oldest child decided to wake up at 5:45 and drowsily walk around the corner like a precious little zombie child in search of breakfast.
Despite my love of sweet, sweet slumber, I somehow find myself in a family of early risers. After nearly five years of motherhood, this is my new normal. (It would be less brutal if the baby were sleeping slightly better, but alas. We're nowhere near a full night of sleep, so it's time to accept my fate and realize that I make babies who aren't sleepers. But thank goodness Cora is a gem in every other way!) The only real irritation is trying to carve out any child-free time to sit down behind the glow of a computer screen to type, type, type in silence. Do I become a crazy person and wake up at 5AM, slowly navigating the creaky floorboards of our apartment like an even crazier person in order to make a quick cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen to write without waking up a child (or two)?
Still, I'm here, and I miss writing and creating in this way so much that I'm willing to forfeit any bit of morning half-sleep that I may get after the baby's last feeding and just...get back to the daily practice of writing, I suppose.
To be honest, for the past year I've had to fight the urge to just completely quit blogging. For many reasons. I didn't feel like I had much to say and there were (and are) so many women out there doing so many exceptional things, despite busy lives and big families. I felt out of practice, without any time to dedicate to such things, without much to say worthy of writing. I also have struggled with figuring out how to blog now that I have a family. I realize how much I would share in my early-twenties—when both blogging and my life were so different. Now, even if I want to share every story, opinion and corner of my (highly emotional) heart, I've come to realize this isn't the place. The internet is, quite frankly, much bigger and much less safe than I feel it was a decade ago. And I think a lot about protecting my children as opposed to sharing every piece of their childhood with an audience that is largely unknown.
There is much I still want to (and will) share—after all, being honest and vulnerable about many things is simply a part of sharing your story. It has been one of the main reasons I have blogged (somewhat inconsistently) for the greater part of a decade.
I'm not the "typical blogger" because I still don't have Facebook and have absolutely no desire to have one for the foreseeable future. (I do have an account that I use for a couple groups I'm a part of, but I'm terrible even keeping up with those because Facebook is so overwhelming to my brain.) I'm rarely on Twitter anymore, because if I have the app on my phone I end up mindlessly scrolling through it a few times a day and apparently I have no self-control with these things. I have Instagram, but it's private and I don't add anyone I don't know (which gives this people-pleaser legit heart palpitations). I'm dreadful when it comes to replying to comments (I definitely want to get better at this) and email will forever be the bane of my existence (no, really—there have been seasons of life when I realize I have emails from over a year ago that I never replied to).
This is all to say that I'm quite glad I stuck around, and that I am eager to share my life here again. But I'm also finding a new way to share it. One that somehow fits into the incredibly busy season of life I'm currently navigating.
I want to grow my blog, but I love knowing I don't have to follow the same formula as others around me.
I'm grateful so many of you have stuck around to follow my story for so many years! It's amazing to me, all the friendships that have been the direct result of this corner of the internet. I consider myself a lucky gal to have been so loved and encouraged by so many of you over the past ten years. I rather enjoy when the lines between "online friends" and "real-life friends" become beautifully blurred.