I sit, a warm-ish latte in front of me. Rain is sleeting down and a patio umbrella just blew past the window. Daddy has both babies on an errand, giving mommy uninterrupted time to write.

First I check email, follow up here, reply there. Oops, this is work – start the timeclock app. Double check the tags on that post. Is there a Facebook post scheduled to go with it? Yep, ok. But this is writing time – log out.

There’s a text from my mom. Her birthday is on Wednesday – I better check in with family and make sure our plans are firm. Who’s going to get her gift again? When am I going to get to Target for the rest of the list? Man, I hope that stink in the fridge is subsiding. I think we found the source but still… yechhh. But this is writing time – clear head.

The screen is blank and so is my brain. Maybe I’ll try this button for ‘distraction-free writing’? WHOA. Now it’s a huge blank screen. How do I even save… oh. there. OK. Golly I hope my family is all right, running errands in the hoopty van. Maybe I should text Husby and check in. But then he’ll be texting, not driving… sending the text anyway. He won’t write back. But this is writing time – fingers down.

Gah, I so want to be writing my heartguts out! I’m so tired that I’m not even sure where to start here. Will writing about my babies impact them in the long run? Will they be mad I shared their little lives before they were even born, their photos all over the interwebz, a digital shadow before age 2? Maybe I shouldn’t write about them. But then what’s left for me to write about? Dumb, Anna, you had plenty of words before kids and you have plenty now.

Write about how affected you seem to be lately by stories behind the themes of #yesallwomen and #takedownthatpost. Write about those skeletons rattling in your closet. Write about the sinking pit in your stomach that erupts whenever you think hard about mothering a girl child, worrying the soul-deep worries of her future.

Write about how you’re currently re-reading the Wrinkle in Time series and loving it more than any book you’re read in the past year.

Write about the nearly 8 weeks you’ve known and loved baby Josie, her cheeks getting chubby, her deeply blue-green eyes, her beloved cooing noises. Write about your postpartum experience, her birth story, the nursing journey you’ve been on with Josie.

Write about the stirring God’s been doing in your soul and how it’s terrifying and liberating and relieving, all at one time. Write about your joy and panic over returning full-force to work. Write about how you took a partial leave from work, and how you feel like you missed Josie’s newborn-ness because of work. Write about the difficulties of blurred lines between work and home and mothering, and how it’s a wonderful awful thing to live in the blur.

Write about anything and everything, the kids, Husby, your all. Write about the Glory of living His. Write the good and the ugly and the joyful and the sad. Write because it’s writing time: log out, clear head, fingers down.

-Anna {girl with blog}

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