A short while ago I lamented about routines and staying focused. One of the things about motherhood (adulthood?) that I struggle with is the repetitive tasks. It’s no wonder my children also struggle with this! Nothing makes me feel more like a failure than knowing kids thrive on routine and not being able to keep one myself consistently. There comes a time when I feel like they should just “get” it on their own, but the reality is they’re just kids, how on earth can I expect them to!?

Ah, motherhood. It’s beautiful. It’s messy. It’s wonderful. It’s so so so hard. It’s an attachment and bond like no other. Nothing else in this world comes close, and I’m not sure it ever will.

I so wish I’d been better educated going into motherhood. I read books and took classes but it was all based on a very idealistic (ahem, fantasy) situation which in real life turns out to be so much more nuanced and generational than anything I’d ever dreamed up.

It’s seems every year I only manage to get one or two Advent posts out in the blogosphere, despite planning for way more. Yet here we are once again—it’s December 5, and…well, here’s my first post.

“There are a lot of reasons to wear a mask, even if you hate it.” Eighteen months in, and still having these hard discussions with people. I think the frustration I feel is due to the inconsistency in messaging. When I take a step back and reevaluate, I feel frustrated by my own lack of control, and lately, the feeling that my safety net has betrayed our highest calling in the interest of a divisive political issue.