Start.

Oh you guys.

OHHHHH you guys.

I've started this post over, over, and over.  I've tried VLOGGING but ya girl doesn't have a "movie face" :)  , I've tried recording myself.   ANYTHING TO GET GOING AGAIN- writing, words, getting STUFF out.

There was a common thread between all of the "first blog post" drafts.  Each and everyone started with some sort of this combination of words:  "It's been so long!  There's so much to say!  Where do I start?"

All three of those are really tricky questions... or maybe I wasn't ready.   I don't know.  Anyhow it has indeed been a very long time, and there's so much to say I really don't know where to start!

Tonight I was thinking, "Why did I start my original blog?  What prompted that?"

Maeve Annabelle.  The birth of my daughter.  I entered into motherhood full of curiosity, joy, apprehension, but SO MUCH PURE EXCITEMENT.  The whole first year of motherhood didn't go as planned;  ALONG with assumed blog posts about first foods, steps and other milestones, there were equal posts about  my therapy sessions, the tears and darkness and all the medications.

For a bit now, the "blogging bug" has been tugging at me.  And yes, yes, yes- it is absolutely to document these precious days.  Things as simple as a set of chubby footprints can inspire a post...FOR SURE.

But I knew there was something else- another reason to blog; along with wanting to document what my kiddos are doing there was this word vomit building up (psa I love using the words "word vomit"...  deal).  After thinking through it for a bit, I realized whether writing about PPD, or poop, I just want to write.

There are so  many words.   So many days.  So many moments and memories.  Memories that make me smile with happy wrinkles and memories that make me quiver with sad lines.  Tears; the good ones, the bad ones...  too many to count.  We've had victories.  We've had strikeouts.  There are times I think we've made it, and other times I'm positive everything will shatter. Basically, we are in the throes of life.

For a suuuuuper long time I thought my "story"- my testimony- was making it through post partum depression.  I thought that was my struggle.  I thought that was a victory I had won, and could stake claim on  (you guys it was hospital worthy PPD).  And while yes, I DID get through PPD, I don't think that's my purpose.  In hindsight, life gives us hiccups; in hindsight I look at my PPD as a really big burp... because here I am ready to blab on about what we've encountered over the past five years.  Which leads me into this  whoooooole other struggle; purpose.

Do you think we get to know what our purpose is?  Or is it only for other people to know?  Like can you say, "I was put on this earth to _______"   Because I can't.
But I feel like I CAN say, "My mom was absolutely meant to be a mom."  

And I don't think either is wrong... if you know your purpose, awesome!  If not?  Keep dancing I guess.... right?


I have no idea why I'm here.  I have zero clue why God trusted us with these incredible children.  I'm unclear on why I have the coolest mom and dad ever.  And Ryan.... again, I don't know what I ever did to deserve his love.  HECK I don't know why I just posted my stupid instastory.

So, as I start this new blog- know that I can't set out with an end destination.  I have no clue where or what this will become.  I'm just wanting to jot down the journey as it speeds along.

Thanks for being patient with me.

I can't wait to share more & get back into the groove.

 Because I'm way older, my bedtime is 8pm- so when my eyelids aren't so heavy I'll fill ya in on what's been going on these last few years. ;)

Deal?

Deal.

XO!
Ashley