I miss writing here. I miss the times where it felt like I was sharing with friends. In a lonely life raising little kids, it was my happy place. It was where and how I shared with friends that weren’t nearby. It was how I made a lot of new friends who I wouldn’t have met any other way.
Blogs are kinda dead now, though. Mine died, everyone I used to follow doesn’t blog anymore. And I’m too busy to do it. But here I sit anyway. Potatoes cut up and frying in butter a few feet away.
This computer used to be mine. It used to be where I still attempted to get that magic of the early 2000s blogging back. It never worked. It always felt like work. And now this computer is used by my kids.
They all started virtual school this week. There were a lot of hiccups. Turns out you can’t log into some of the things they need to with some of the devices we have. In fact, specifically only their chromebooks are working. Not any of our now-4 laptops, my desktop, my phone, any of our various sizes and brands of tablets…
There’s probably frustration in my typing over that because it is frustrating. If you want a family of 7, with 5 of those seven being school-aged, to log in separately then maybe choose a platform that works across a variety of devices? MAYBE?
Gotta turn those potatoes.
This is the first morning in weeks that I’ve managed to get out of bed without waking up Lyla. She is the lightest sleeper, restless sleeper too, like Ember was. Because Ember was I don’t worry. I remember worrying about Ember for years. She tossed and turned ALL night every night for the first 4 years of her life, at least. I talked to her pediatrician about it. I guess it was just Ember. She sleeps soundly now. So when Lyla wakes up crying regularly I just pull her close and snuggle her back to sleep. Over and over. She tends to settle down halfway through the night and sleeps decently soundly from 3am-7am. Unless there’s any noise, then she wakes up again. So that’s why I’m surprised to be sitting out here typing alone. It’s really nice. I wish every morning started this way. I set an alarm and try to make that happen but like I said, no matter how slowly I creep out of bed, Lyla wakes up. And yeah, still cosleeping. Funnily enough I think since quarantine started people are less judgmental of those kinds of parenting choices. I feel like there’s less mom shame. More body shame, less parenting shame. And I’ll take that trade off!
Lyla just walked through the kitchen and smiled up at me and I picked her up and set her on my lap. She’s resting her head on my chest as I type and I’m gently resting my chin on the top of her head. I love this girl. She’s full of life. Well, I’m going to go cuddle her. I’ll be back later.