Y’all, I don’t think I’ve ever neglected my little blog for this long before. It is so precious to me, chronicling the stories of my life for me to go back and enjoy later. I’ve been doing it for almost eight years now (since way before blogging was cool) and there are few things more precious to me than this little corner of the world.
But one of the great lies of our age is that as women, we can be good at everything. The perfect mother who never gets overwhelmed from the crying (oh, the crying!), or fears her baby’s first fever or every once in awhile thinks that if she doesn’t just get ONE uninterrupted night of sleep she might lose her mind forever. The perfect homemaker, who bakes everything from scratch and has a hand-made wreath on her door and a gorgeous table setting in her dining room. A woman who entertains regularly in her frilly apron and pearls, who never gets frazzled or tired or stressed. Whose baseboards have never seen dust and whose drawers have never seen clutter. Oh, and throw in being an employee who beautifully balances everything while wearing the newest (thrifted) Pinterest-inspired outfit (with a scarf – there is always a scarf) and has nary a drop of spit up anywhere on her person. And, of course, she is a perfect wife who is always patient with her husband, looks just as polished when he comes home from work as when he left, who cooks him dinner every night using the groceries she bought with coupons and keeps his closet continuously stocked with freshly ironed shirts. And every night they go to bed together on freshly ironed sheets and dream of the adventures that tomorrow will bring.
Y’all, that ain’t me. I ironed my sheets once after we got married and then realized that it was a colossal waste of my time considering after one night they were a rumpled mess. Now I’m just happy if they’re clean. And I used coupons once, but then lost interest and now have a drawer full of ones that expired in 2011. And sometimes I have a Pinterest-inspired outfit, but honestly they never do look quite the same as they do on the 5’10” 110 pound fashion blogger. I made a wreath once, two years ago, and that same wreath still hangs on my front door, faded and covered in dust and looking a bit ready to retire. And at any given moment there is very high likelihood that there is both spit-up in my hair and on my clothes. Oh, and the last time we entertained guests, well, we ordered pizza.
Being able to do it all, to have it all, TO BE ALL, that’s a myth. And that’s the main reason why I have neglected this blog. Because at this very moment in my life, in this season, my priorities are being a mama, being a wife, and being a good employee. That’s all I can handle right now. There have been many evenings where I intended to write something, but there was a baby to snuggle, and then feed and put to bed, and then a husband to snuggle, and then let’s face it, it’s time for bed because we’re both sleep deprived and an early bedtime is one of the most necessary parts of being a parent.
And so the minute I wrap up work each evening, the first thing I do is put the laptop away and shift my focus to my family. It’s what I’ve got at this very moment, and if I can only do a few things well, then I want to do wife and mama well. There are small pockets of time to craft and bake and entertain and write, but I’m trying so very hard to keep my top priorities my top priorities.
And you want to know a little secret? I am absolutely loving this quieter, slower pace of life. My tendency is to live life as a sprint, and I feel like, much of the time (not all the time, mind you), instead these days I’m sort of meandering through this season of life, and it is so, so refreshing.
So stick with me, friends. I have big plans and blog ideas swimming around in this head of mine (of course I have extra time to think since I’m usually up at least once or twice a night feeding that wide-eyed baby of mine), and hopefully they’ll find their way onto my computer page so that I can continue to make memories for later. Thanks for waiting it out with me. It’s just a season.