There are so many things that I want to write, but I am not even sure of how to start the dialogue. I am verbally (okay, I guess not verbally) constipated. I keep trying to make the words flow, but they just won't come out.
There are funny things that the kids say. Things like, "I want to add Nitrous to my thankful list" and "Curvy mommas are strong. I like my mommas to be strong. Flat mommas are just weak." (LOVE that).
There are admonishments that I want to dole out to friends. Things like: the only bodies that I know better than my own are my friends. If I tell you to go to the damn doctor, you need to go to the damn doctor. It makes me sad when I see my friends, my besties, not taking care of themselves. We made an agreement. You are supposed to take care of me when I die. How are you gonna do that if you don't take care of you? (That's it, that's the only I told you so that I will ever give you. I am so, so sorry that you are sick and if I could take away all of the hurt, I would.)
There are many giant things that I want to say about my marriage. And babies. And about Z and daycare.
But I am not sure where to start or how to start or how much I actually should or can say.
I am all about transparency. I am all about putting myself fully out there to my audience so that you can identify with me, but to what end? Am I going to document Z's first period, the same way that I will document her first day of school or the first time she rides a bike? At what point do I need to start shielding my family from the things that I write on my blog?
I am going to go ponder that for a while. I'll let you know what I come up with.