The interim pour over coffee, a stop gap until we could replace a broken french press, has become the steady. It makes a fine cup. It makes two or three fine cups every afternoon. When The Baby is as busy as my baby has become, when the house is also home to much older children fond of leaving behind and dropping and forgetting so many tiny dangerous things, when you cannot remember the last time you slept for four hours at a stretch, when the husband’s work and commute load are (still) staggering, when you are not enough: you are glad for small rituals, for this moment, for any silly thing to which you can look forward.
Sometimes I think of something, “I should blog about that!” but then I don’t because, why? I don’t really have a focus here and I don’t know if that’s important or necessary or not. It seems like the blog trend has evolved from mostly personal essays as journal entries into themed brands. This isn’t a crafty blog or a photo blog or a food blog. Does that matter? And as much as I am, indeed, focused on Ulysses now, and as much as he has, of course, changed everything, I don’t want this to be solely a “mom of baby with disabilities” blog either. So I guess I’m old school, blogging like it’s a diary, if that diary was a kept on the coffee table and not under the bed. I need to give myself permission to write here whenever I feel compelled, without second guessing intent or audience interest. I hate that I started second guessing myself at all. This is still such a quiet place, but Uly’s story brought more of you here and I need to not be weird and self-conscious about that.
I have this new compulsion: when I come across a blog that’s written by another mama with a “special needs” child, I must go back through the archives and read every word. Well, not every literal word, but I definitely scan through old entries, inhaling their experiences, the hard stuff, the triumphant stuff, the boring ass normal stuff. I think I do this because in my everyday life, I don’t know anyone facing similar challenges. It’s a little lonely being the only person dealing with hospitalizations and therapies, the only one swallowed alive by medical bills. But when I read other wonder-baby-included blogs, even when the entries are about any dumb thing, I don’t feel lonely. So maybe my blog focus is Normalcy. All true words, some difficult, some great, all fit for public consumption, but not candy coated. Ok.