I want to blog to you fine people. I do.

But then it goes like this… I make two phone calls that I really need to make when it finally gets quiet. But no one answers when I have time to call so I leave messages and go off to find the baby. This is how I spend a lot of the day, finding the baby in a very big house. He’s in his room with the cat this time, playing with the baby monitor. He smells poopy, so I take him downstairs to change him. He keeps the monitor and I don’t have a free hand to fight him so the cat chases us down the stairs after the cord, because that’s helpful.

While I change the baby and try to get the cat to back off, both phone calls got returned. But now Brice is asking for a snack and our fix it guy is putting in a new sidewalk out front, so his son is here playing. And there is dinner to make and phone calls to try to return from the chaos. I spend the time on the phone bribing children with cookies and a finger in the air, as in, JUST GIVE ME ONE MINUTE PLEASE! Silently, cause I’m the phone.

And this is why I don’t write to you nice folks. Because I can’t really seem to create a total and complete thought much less a complete blog post.

I want it to be perfect and meaningful and have some answer and message. But sometimes, the only message I seem be able to have is the one I live, which is a cycle of all day, every day… feed, water and wash. And wash is really optional depending on the day. So…

I’m going to try to be here more, even if my thoughts are random and not complete. Even if I don’t have all the answers, or any, on some days. But I’m going to do all I can to keep coming back.

Now I’m going to go find my baby.

Also, everyone keeps telling us that Lincoln is not a baby anymore. Obviously a subject for another day.