Let's all stare at the blinking cursor, shall we?

I've been sitting here for a while with the cursor patiently waiting for me to TYPE SOMETHING ALREADY. After not really being able to write a decent entry for months now, I just don't even know where to start.

I know that there is a writer inside of me, drumming her fingers and rolling her eyes, wishing we could just get on with it. I know she's there, because dozens of times a day I think, "I have GOT to blog about this!". And then it's eleven o'clock at night and I'm still just holding on to hope that maybe there's a shower in my near future - I can barely remember what day it is, nevermind the spectacular blogging I had in mind fifteen hours before.

Since Delaney has been born, I feel like every day is a race to the finish:

Up at 6 a.m.!

To bed at 1:00 a.m.!

Kids are all still breathing and reasonably clean!

I WIN!

I WIN AT MOTHERHOOD!

Unfortunately, in motherhood, there is no finish-line. Kids (and grown-ups...ahem) keep growing and need new clothes and sorted out closets. The dishes keep getting dirty. The laundry keeps piling back up. The pantries keep getting empty. There's always another preschool party or field trip around the corner. And so on.

I'm still learning to find a balance in my life with a husband, two little people, and a newborn to care for, and I've learned that at least for a while, the little "extras" are just luxuries that get pushed out of my precious twenty-four hours - like blogging, reading blogs, polishing my toenails, and soaking in the tub. I am strictly in survival mode right now.

But I don't mean to make it sound like total drudgery.

I LOVE having a new baby. It helps that she is a MAGNIFICENT infant - eats on a perfect three to four hour schedule, has been sleeping through the night since four weeks, and while she definitely has fussy periods, they are predictable and she stops if you cuddle her. It also helps that I've been through this twice before and am not anywhere near as neurotic as I was with Garrett and Laura.

I feel like I am truly enjoying the work, and the joy, of motherhood for the first time.

With Garrett, I was afraid. I didn't take him ANYWHERE, because I was afraid he'd cry (gasp!). I sweated over every whimper. I couldn't wait for my life to return to "normal". Every day, it felt like his "real mother" should come and take him away. What can I say? I had some post-partum issues.

When Laura arrived, I was overwhelmed by having a nineteen month old and a newborn while teaching full time. On top of that, we moved to a new house when she was six weeks old. What do I remember about Laura's infancy? THE SCREAMING. She was a colicky baby if there ever was one.

But now, I have the luxury (and it is a luxury) of staying home, and it's made all the difference in how I mother my children. Yes, they drive me crazier. Yes, I need (frequent) breaks from them. And yes, I absolutely get tired of the fighting and whining and the neverending housework. But losing the stress of a full time job outside the home has really worked for me. Then again, maybe it's just the Lex*apro. Whatever. I'll take it.

I think that with my first two children, I had to be two people - teacher and mother. I felt like I was never doing either one as well as I could have. I kept waiting for my pre-children life to return. Even after I quit my job, I still felt like that college-educated-professionally-trained part of me was shriveling up.

But now that I've mentally allowed myself to embrace stay at home motherhood for what it is, I can finally enjoy it. Those of you who stay home know that it is NOT always a pretty job, it's dirty and exhausting and often thankless, but you also know that it's worth every moment - if you can put your full heart into it.

I have turned into the stereotypical SAHM - my biggest goal for the day is usually to get a hot dinner on the table somewhere around six. And honestly, even that only happens four or five times a week at best. I find putting away stacks of laundry oddly satisfying, and mopping the floor is soothing.

I wear exercise pants (that haven't seen actual exercise in at least two years) and t-shirts every single day. I could easily be nominated for "What Not To Wear" (hint hint!!!). I wear my hair in a bun and hardly ever wear makeup anymore. My tummy is soft and my butt is too wide and more times than I would like to admit, I've entered a public place with Hershey Kiss foil stuck to my pants.

And for now, for this particular moment, I'm allowing myself to be okay with that. My baby is happiest when snuggling into my squishy tummy, and I don't mind teaching my son to read (yes, he's READING!!) while wearing baggy sweatpants. It's actually really freeing - I don't even care anymore what those nicely dressed, totally together people think of me when they see me straggling into Walmart makeup-less with my hair in a sloppy bun.

Because while they do their leisurely shopping with their blow-dried hair? I, before three in the afternoon, have nursed the baby three times, decorated a cake, finished up plans for my grandparent's 50th anniversary party (coming this Saturday!), done a load of laundry, washed a sinkful of dishes, removed the nails my son hammered randomly into the wall, drunk four cups of coffee (ya think?), bandaged a knee, and broken up a dozen fights, PLUS, I have just made it through an entire grocery trip without losing or beating any of my three children - and I planned a weeks worth of meals as I strolled those aisles. I WIN.