Begin Again?

It's been almost two years since I posted here. At first, I let the craziness of the holidays distract me and then I had high hopes of 'catching up', which daunted me from just writing where I was. Throughout, the shimmery distractions of Facebook and Instagram made me feel like I was putting things 'out there' somehow. Well, FB and Insta and I have parted ways. My heart hurts every time I see a party to which my children aren't invited (isn't it funny how my skin is thick enough to shrug off parties to which I am not invited, but so very thin when it comes to perceived slights for my children?). I cringe seeing all the ways in which people are cruel to those I love. My breath is taken away (and not in the good way) each time someone reacts disproportionately to a comment or post, especially when those reactions are to comments or posts of mine. For a while I felt like I had to stay on, to keep tabs on my teens' postings, to maintain any and all possible 'connections', especially with those for whom connection had become difficult. But social media isn't feeling very social these days. I'm tired. I'm sad. There have been good notes; people who are like minded whom I have 'met' and with whom I have exchanged ideas. People who have encouraged articulateness. People with whom I share memories. But the bright notes are weighed down by disharmony and exclusion.

Somewhere along the way of motherhood craziness, I have become a writer who doesn't write anywhere. Even my journal has gathered dust. I need to write again. I have no delusions that anyone will read what I write here. Maybe this will only serve as some sort of Nicotine Patch for social media withdrawal.

About a year ago, DH was released from being bishop and made an early morning seminary teacher. That was a very bittersweet time for all of us, but I think we've settled into the new routine. In January of this year, I was made our ward YW president, to the utter horror of CE as I am effectively required to follow her to any and all youth activities. I try to give her space and still do my job. No easy task.

This school year marked the second with all the kids in all day school. M is flourishing in first grade. Bam is loving third grade, by far my most social child. CW has begun his first year of middle school, navigating all that is new and difficult as best he can, but not without some glitches and growing pains along the way. Z is in eighth grade, taller than I and now even taller than CE. He is an official teen, battling his own growing pains--a desire to please and be trustworthy v. a powerful desire to do what he wants despite negative consequences. CE is a sophomore. She swims, she sings, she is in Student Council. She is busy. We are busy. Endlessly, exhaustingly, continually busy. And I battle a strong desire to crawl into a cave and not come out or just to run away.