pouring out my pores

that's how writing comes sometimes. it pours out. i can't contain the thoughts anymore because they are too many and are all jumbled up. they knock into each other in my brain and i can't make sense of them. they move in and out of my consciousness playing off of one another without fully coming to the front of my mind. 

it often happens that when i finally sit down and write it out, i'll think about how clear it all seems. and how simple. how could i not see it before? why did it seem unclear? it's so obvious.

but now that i finally have a minute to write i'm avoiding it, and i don't even know why. maybe because some of the things itching to get out are frustrations that may be better aired somewhere else. somewhere that i can process a little less publicly. though, granted, no one really reads this anyway.

i don't even know why i keep it. maybe because it feels like more of something i'm doing if i type it up and put it out there for all the world to stumble upon. but let's be honest. people don't read blogs much anymore. people don't even read lengthy emails let alone articles of substance or any of my ramblings. 

i already know i lost you way back where 140 characters ran out.

on to the next. 

on to something better.

our attention spans are lacking.

maybe that's it. maybe it's just that my attention span has regressed to that of a three year old, and i cannot stay focused on the task at hand.

i've been growing anxious with wanderlust lately. i want to get out of here. to travel again. to go somewhere. anywhere to give me a shift in my perspective. somewhere to see new sights and meet a few new people. somewhere that will refresh my mind and help me to remember to be grateful for all that i've been given. to remember that there is beauty in the world that will take my breath away.

this summer has been hard. and short. and exhausting. 

and it's ending next week. 

no, not the hot & humid temperatures, unfortunately. 

but 2/3 of the kiddos start back to school. 

and i feel like this summer when i've been working i've missed out on so much of them.

i feel as though i'm playing catch up on everything, but they're still moving on at warp speed, and i can't quite make it back to them. 

in some ways i'm so ready for fall. mostly because i love fall and all of the warm coziness and cinnamon it brings. i love the smells and the sports. i love watching my kids spread their wings - though inevitably i sit back in wonderment at how in the heck those wings have stretched so big. 

i bought a sweater last week. and a cozy long-sleeve shirt. my instincts are taking over and i'm reaching out from august and trying to reel in october. i do it every year. it's not new, but somehow it still surprises me each time it happens.

this year it feels different though. it no longer feels like i'm biding my time. it feels like time is slipping through my fingers and i can't quite hold it like i used to.

some of the things i hoped for are no longer possible. some of them require so much fight it makes me wonder if i should just let them go. sometimes people you want to want the same things as you just don't. and holding them up to the old standard - your old standard - just spells disappointment for all involved.

sometimes things don't turn out how you thought they would. 

and sometimes that is the best thing ever.

but other times it's the opposite end of the spectrum.

but time moves on. when it passes, it passes. there's no getting it back.

and this too shall pass.

it all does. 

always.

my baby turned three last week.

she's started saying "i getting bigger" all the time - reminding us in her three year old way that she won't stay little for long. reminding us that what's coming next is coming whether we're ready for it or not. reminding us that as they say in the south: babies don't keep.

i'm still trying to find a sustainable rhythm as a working mom. i've always liked to think that i could do all of the things. and it seems that i can, but i can't seem to do all of the things well and still manage to sleep or stay sane. so it's probably not a win to try to go that route.

being a working mom - and not even a full-time working mom - has shown me that i am woefully inadequate on my own. because anyone who tells you that they do it on their own is full of it. for real. {i'm holding back the expletives, but if you want to know how strongly i feel about this just throw in a couple in your mind, ok? good.}

as i've sat on the porch typing this tonight the sky has shifted from blue to ink. there is now a cacophony of music courtesy of the crickets and cicadas. the lightning bugs are sounding off to one another. i saw the bats out hunting earlier; i'm hoping they got all of the mosquitoes that like to meet me here. 

i know lots of people love summer and want to hang onto it for longer, but i'm not one of them. take your summer nights. i'd rather watch the sunset, sit in the dark and write, and still be in bed by 9:30. i'd rather remember to pause and rediscover everything inside of me that i forgot was there. i'd rather pull at the threads that elude me during normal waking hours. 

there's so much more i could say right now, but i'm tired. my energy is sapped. and i think it's time to call it a day. 

xoxo