Whining STINKS

It's raaaaaaaaaaaning, which means we don't get to go outside today, but it also means that things will grow and get green and beautiful and lurvley. It also means I could eat something with 'sprinkles' in order to add theme to my day.

Our apartment is partially underground (We just cant completely give up hobbit living), so the windows are right at ground level outside. This morning we came in from an early appointment, and there was the reddest, most gorgeous, most delightful little cardinal right next to window. M was fascinated. He called to it through the window to come back for several minutes after it had flown away.

I booked the flight for M and I to get to Utah this summer. After C worked a few 14ish hour days this week it made me very grateful that I have the option of going to family while he works that many hours every day for months. How stellar is modern transportation and communication?!

M is growing and learning in a manner and at a rate that seems out of control to me. It is so fun to watch and gets me good and tired by bed time. Seriously, kids are a wonder to behold.

I have made real dinner like, three days in a row. That gives me a pass tonight right? Yusssssssss.

                   

The only reason I would want to live through the 80's as an adult

I was thinking the other day about how so many of the women I know within a few years of my age are pregnant.

And hey, in case my attempt at clever announcements were missed, I'm pregnant too!

I thought about how insane it is that so many of us are experiencing it at once, and how young we all are, and how we half-way feel like the phase of life we are going through should still somehow be beyond us.

Then I thought about how social media has tremendously changed this experience for women.

I mean, I went to school with a graduating class of over 400, so I am pretty sure there were some other women pregnant around the same time as my mom. But my mom didn't post pregnancy announcements on facebook for all of her old middle school acquaintances to be able to see. She just showed up at her 10 year reunion with four kids, and said, "As you can see, I've been busy!"

I am kind of jealous of that privacy. I am jealous that the moms of the generations before us got to feel a little more one in a million about being pregnant instead of feeling like, "How do I announce this in a new and creative way as to not get totally lost in the crowd of (wonderful and hopefully ecstatic) other people making the exact same announcement?"

Part of me wishes I was living this life 20 years ago when I only called my mom and my closest friends, and family found out through the grape-vine. But I don't.

I am not sad or upset that anyone else is pregnant; please don't misunderstand. I am simply trying to learn to still make this a precious and personal experience. I know, posting announcement to social media was absolutely my decision. I didn't have to, and I may choose not to in the future.

There are great things about it too. Being able to reach out to other moms online when I've felt clueless has been a big comfort.

I don't think there is any way for this post to not sound a little selfish, but I am a little selfish.

The end

Here's the thing

Blogging seems scary now.

I've started to feel like there are expectations I can't meet. 

Then I ask myself from where these expectations are coming, and I have absolutely no answer to that. 

That ongoing and important topic of women comparing the messiness of their every day lives to the perfect photo-op moments that make it on to other womens' blogs has an effect here I am sure. 

I mean, I use vscocam, and damn if some of those filters don't do magic 

Sorry mom. I said damn, which I never say, and will refrain from saying again.

But really, life his more like this:

You see it?

Yeah. This is real.

Real life is seems like I am out of focus devouring bites of toast in a hospital gown while my boys are stunning and wonderful, and seem to be so much more than I deserve. 

I mean look at that man. You can tell how I end up with a busy uterus. Sorry. Too much? 

I'm afraid that sometimes I blog to meet these superfluous expectations, and forget to do it because I love to express myself, and it makes me happy. Dumb.

Double dumb.

Here is to fuzzy backgrounds and eating food in as unladylike a manner as is necessary.