Hello...It's me.

Now finish the Adele lyrics.  I'll wait.

It's funny how little things turn into big things.  I never got around to writing Fischer's 1-year old birthday letter.  That was the corner I turned it. Somehow, after that I couldn't seem to find it in me to get back to updating the blog because of the whole... "what kind of mom skips her baby's first birthday and never goes back and adds it?!" sort of thing + a long, lingering bout of postpartum depression turned regular ol' depression...and then, overnight, it seemed, there was no more blog.  But, you throw a new baby into the mix and now I just can't help but think that I need to start blogging again.  Maybe it's my need to throw my voice into the universe again.  Maybe I just think it'd be a crying shame for Baby T to want to hear about her birth and I don't have it recorded anywhere.  Maybe it's just time.  Regardless, I'm here again, calling out to a big empty online universe and asking if anybody is listening.

I wish I could squish the last two years into a single blog post.  I might throw some #tbt posts on here to catch-up on the big events.  Births/Baptisms/Birthdays...and all the other important Bs in life.  Or I might not.  If there's anything I've learned in the last two years it's that I've got to let go of the mama guilt, the should-have-dones.  Y'all, it'll eat you alive if you let it. Every night I just pray that tomorrow I can be a better mom than I was that day.  And then I try to let it go.

Here I am, half a dozen kids into this whole mothering thing.  I feel like a veteran and also such a novice, all at the same time.  I was recently featured on this blog, discussing my feeling about Motherhood.  With a capitol M. 90% of the other featured mamas only have a single child or a couple of really young ones.  So, I felt a tiny bit out of place when I was doing it.  But also, while I've read the other posts over the weeks, I feel so...battle worn.  It's odd.  I look at their bright, happy faces and read their optimistic, yet tired words and I want to give them all a hug, tell them to hang in there, not just for today but also for all the tomorrows.  They don't know yet how hard the years will be be.  Or how beautiful.  Or how gut-wrenching. But also amazing.  And also so, so fast.  But also so, so loooong. Mess AND Magic, as my favorite blogger, Beth Woolsey says. The insane thing is, even while I'm reading these things and thinking these thoughts, I know there are other veteran mamas out there who have been in the trenches for a lot longer than me know are thinking the same things about me.  I have years behind me but also so, so many years ahead.  Long, exhausting, and awe-inspiring years (but don't forget exhausting). I recently said something about seeing The Light at The End of The Tunnel of Mamahood.  Not because I'm almost done with it (heaven knows, my 3 month old insists I'm definitely not), but because I'm starting to get a sense of how quickly it all passes. Anyway, when I called mamahood a tunnel, I wasn't meaning it an negative way, like it might be taken, but it's still very much a tunnel.  You can't see very far ahead or even behind.  All you can see is what's RIGHT THERE in front of your face, RIGHT NOW. It can feel really lonely hanging out in the dark. Occasionally you'll find someone to walk with for a while, but at the end of the day it's just you in that tunnel, trying to put one foot in front of the other.  So, to all my other mamas out there, know that I'm in the tunnel with you too.  Maybe in front of you. Maybe behind. I can't carry you through it with me, although sometimes I wish you could carry me.  But maybe just knowing that I'm walking in the tunnel too will make it seem a little easier.