Many moons ago, I kept a regular blog. I wrote regularly and at length. For about two years. Then I met someone, got married, had a baby, and moved across the country. Blogging definitely fell by the wayside. When I was pregnant, I had the urge to blog again and attempted it for a little while (see the previous fifteen posts). Then I had visions of writing posts with DIYs and step by step guides and serious thoughts scattered with beautiful paintings from the Artchive. Y'all, I ain't got time for that shizzle. I can barely keep my bathrooms clean and cook dinner regularly. I am not even sure how to punctuate properly on this silly iPad keyboard. But the reality is that I consistently feel the urge to blog again.
When I kept a blog before, it was during a pretty major time of upheaval in my life. God was doing some crazy digging up of old wounds and healing them. I felt like I was constantly having my mind blown. I needed a place to write my thoughts down, to organize them. Sharing them on the internet also made me feel connected. Some of my friends even read my blog and then we talked about it. Mostly, I blogged for myself, to make sense of the chaos in my brain. Which leads me to my current situation.
My life is dominated by housework and caring for a baby--shockingly involved and overwhelming jobs, by the way. But that doesn't mean my brain is dead. As in my prior blogging days, I have undergone major transitions in the last two years with more on the way (hello, 30). In addition, I have moved away from friends and family and find myself with a paucity of outlets for my active thoughts. I fully intent to seek out and strive to build a community here in my new home, but that takes time. What to do in the meantime? I return to blogging. I will probably write sporadically. I probably won't ever proofread. I have no time to find pretty pictures for my posts. (That's what having Instagram on the sidebar is for anyway, right?) Despite having honors in English in my college days, I don't even promise to write in complete sentences. I don't even promise to write anything anyone cares to read. But I have thoughts, y'all. Being a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) only makes me yearn more for the deep things of life. I hope I can dig out fifteen minutes here or there to write about them.
P.S. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out what SAHM stood for. Oooh, I ended a sentence with a preposition. Moving on. I need sleep.