When I was in high school, my journals were mostly filled up with entries about my crushes. In order by year: Bo (freshman), Eric (sophomore), Chase (junior), Billy (senior). Countless others I've forgotten and if I had my yearbook handy, they probably would all come flooding back. Nothing ever came out of my crushes. I never even held hands with the guys listed above (haha!), but they made for good writing material. The typical high school stories of unrequited love. I didn't know what else to write about, but I liked writing, so I went on and on, page after page. Why doesn't he like me? He's so funny. Maybe we'll get married!! I'm so confused.
Same thing is happening now, except my topic is constantly my kids. I dabble with my mother's death and sometimes Rob, sometimes myself. But really, I basically just write about my kids. These last two days I've been trying to write a post about the slate boards I saw used in a lot of restaurants in Paris, like the one I went to with Jordan (see above). I wrote how I started using mine since I've been back. I took pictures of dinner last night (see below). I even had links ready: here and here. But my pictures looked lame compared to the ones I take of my kids. The post felt stale. Then blogger started working against me when it shut down for 20 hours. I gave up.
This scares me. Because this September, all my kids will be in school full time. Something I've been looking forward to since they were born. But now that it's a few months away, I'm nervous. My time as a stay-at-home mom as I know it, will be ending. What will I want to write about?
I probably could have started the boys in some sort of preschool classes by now to make this transition smoother, but I like the flexibility of waking up and deciding what we want to do. Depending on the weather and how much laundry is done. And how overdue the library books are.
Since I had all my kids by the age of 25, they have consumed my adult life. I'm a mom. I keep expecting to know what I'll do when they start school. First, I'll take a big sigh of relief. This will continue for about week. Then what? A job! Will the transformation into a working mom be as abrupt as the day my daughter Ella was handed to me at the hospital? I don't know. But I hope it inspires me half as much as my children do. For old times sake, I'll end with my classic conclusion: I'm so confused!