It’s not that I don’t want to blog. It’s not that documenting, sharing, engaging, pondering, proclaiming (etc.), is not important or interesting to me.
It’s that the weeks are a whirlwind. It is all I can do to prepare for each day and some weeks I need to think two, three or four days ahead. Weekends seem to already be booked out for months.
So as much as I love this, as excited as I am to be active in this space with (a few?) new eyes watching, I’ve got higher priorities right now. And if I didn’t let this fall by the wayside, I wouldn’t be who I claim to be, ya know?
I’m busy with work, and now school and homework again. I’m busy with workouts and grocery shopping and cooking and the dishes that follow. Oh and those kids. Those are the duhs. I’m also busy with catching the sunshine when it makes an appearance. I’m busy with tickling the slobbery chin of my 16-month-old. I’m busy with helping to satiate my four-year-old’s wild appetite for “The Kirsten Books” (we started Meet Kirsten only a couple weeks ago and are about to finish the 5th in the series).
I’m busy with surviving but I’m also busy with squeezing as much living as I can around the edges.
I always wish I blogged more. I wish I made time for short ones, about the little things. In my head I’ve a dozen in- depth posts, easily. And I get stuck on that, that one I can’t find the time to get to. Followed by that other. And that other. I don’t like for blogging to get overwhelming and any worry and stress is a horrible use of my mental resources.
I wrote this post on my phone, from my bed. It’s about 8pm. I’ve been up since 4:45am. And I’m looking at two days of leaving by 7:30 in the morn and hoping to return before 8:30 in the eve.
So I’ll take a breath, and jump back into the whirlwind. Because that’s what I do.