I love being a Mom.
It is the one thing I’ve always wanted to be.
I love knowing that The God of the Universe created me to be the mother of my children. And even though I am not worthy, I am.
But a couple of months after my third child was born, something happened deep within me.
I realized that being a mom wasn’t enough.
It shocked me too.
I think at first, I thought the feeling came from postpartum blues or from my baby’s difficult birth. But one thought kept playing itself over in my brain, I need something for me.
I remember the first time I spoke those words out loud. My sweet hubby suggested a pedicure. No. Deeper, more, meaningful. Okay, a writing conference? Mr. fix-it knew my deep desire to write and my frustration with no one willing to give me a chance. But that wasn’t it either.
And then I got busy with life, and the words, although still present, quieted to a whisper.
I started my blog when my baby was 9 months old.
I had no idea it would be the answer to the question.
Now, nearly a year later, I view my life thru blog-colored glasses.
Blogging has turned me inside out. It has fulfilled my need to write, yes, but even more, it is has quenched the thirst to have something for me.
It is mine.
And I have learned so much about me. I have discovered an innate desire to encourage. It has always been there, but I thrive on helping people view their life more positively, while they are changing diapers or tackling clutter.
Blogging has also helped me to capture the fleeting moments. For years, I’ve neglected writing things down, but now in doing so, I have seared them into my heart and mind forever.
Many people view blogs as vanity on parade. And I can understand why. Since vanity loves company, I’m glad I have all of you. One of my favorite parts of blogging is the creativity that has been birthed. I think my creative hemisphere has grown immensely and made my head is bigger. Really.
It has also taught me to laugh. And to look for the humor! A year ago, I remember a friend of a friend commenting on my family’s frequent visit to the ER. I was offended. I mean, how rude to actually mention the truth.
But I’ve learned to laugh at myself and that’s been the biggest lesson of all!
Oh, and while I do not hope for mayhem, or encourage disaster, my senses have been sharpened to them.
Because seriously? A post about my hubby smearing peanut butter in his armpits at a family talent show, is just too good to forget. Tune in, I’ll tell you all about next week. And there will be pictures. Oh! Goody!
And my life? It looks like roses thru those blog-colored glasses.
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