A Place to Begin: WeDeWah

Ernest Hemingway is supposed to have said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” And it feels that way, sometimes... what do I have worth puffing out into the atmosphere? Kid photos and "keeping up with the family" posts are fine, (And you're about to read one, by the way,) but my motivation in coming back here is largely to have a place to write about bigger things. I have no idea WHEN I am going to be able to do this.

Today, I start somewhere else.

Here!

It's Lydia June! Lovingly referred to as "We-de-wah" by her sister, poor peach doesn't even have a sidebar photo yet. Seven months old and full of rolls, gurgles, squeals, and gummy grins, the littlest Pomp is still figuring out that mama is not an extension of her person (and vice versa.) She can sleep through the night but usually doesn't. She should be eating the jars of pureed vegetables stacked in my pantry, but she gags every time. She has virtually no schedule outside her own circadian rhythms, and this is fine. We often joke that if Lydia were our first baby, the last few sentences would represent my worries, frustrations, "projects" and even fears. Knowing how quickly one phase is traded for another, I am more than content knowing that she sleeps when she's sleepy and eats when she's hungry, and smiles and kicks and rolls around and babbles when she's not nursing or napping.

Life is good for Lydia June.