Lately I’ve been catching myself doing dishes and thinking, ” oh this would be a good blog post.” Or I’ll be driving and it’ll hit me. Rarely (never) do I have the time anymore to sit down on my ancient laptop and just write.
I want to write down so many things.. About how life is too fast for me at times.. Or how happy I am. Or how stressed I am. And confused. What is life? I had it planned. That dumb thing called life. I wanted 5 children about 2 years apart. A two story house with a white picket fence. My husband would come home to a dinner prepared by me, right at the perfect timing of 5:00pm.
Here’s what it is now. I have an insanely demanding 3.5 year old. My pregnancy, her birth and newborn stage with colic about killed me. I stayed home & loved it. I got a part time job and loved it.. So much we continued and did more. Now she loves school so much that she literally gets upset on the weekends. I’ve thought about having another kid. A lot. When she was 2. And turned 3. And now. It crosses my mind a lot. Especially with all the pregnant people I know at the moment. But I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll have a bad pregnancy again, I’ll have to quit working and pull lilly out of school which she loves. I’m afraid I’ll have a terrible birth. Another colicy baby. On top of a demanding toddler. My husband doesn’t come home to our white picket fence. Or dinner prepared by me. If I do cook, it’s burnt. He comes home to our little home. (My childhood home in fact that I love.) and he comes home at random times.. Late, early. A chefs life is never scheduled.. And honestly I hate it at times. Others, I love it. (The extra 15lbs I sport.)
That’s my life. Nothing what I planned. I don’t know the future. I can’t really plan it either. If you know me, I’ve got incredible and horrible OCD. The fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen.. During pregancy.. Birth.. And so on rocks to me to my core. Completely.
I’m trying to let go.. And honestly just trust everything around me. Trust God. Trust my body.
It’s so scary, this damn thing called life. And half the time I feel like I’m falling 200 miles an hour down a hole that never ends.. But there is always a surface- and a time to breathe. While I’m falling I can take the time to look and enjoy things..
So that’s my rambling.. My blog post. Nothing really how I imagined it coming out. And yeah.