However many years ago....

I started this blog, one main reason was a place to put down my thoughts without interruption.

Let us all pause for a raucous and hysterical fit of laughter to last however many years I have been writing this blog. <Snerkle>

What was I ever thinking? Unless I get up at ol' crack of dawn to write or write in the wee hours of a.m., at which time my concentration factor is less than negligible, there is no way at all I have uninterrupted thoughts. I do not think I can even define an uninterrupted thought. My own thoughts interrupt my thoughts.

Over the July 4th holiday we were with some extended family members who roll on a different worldview globe than ourselves. One cousin in specific has been the very definition of a jet-setting career woman. A few months ago she decided to chuck the corporate world and commit to staying home full time with her two young children. For a year. To see how it goes.

First I said, "Bravo!" And then I asked, "SO, how is it going?"

With transparency she replied, "It is much harder."

First I felt validated in my oh-so-mundane not catching a jet flight to Indonesia today to offer a microloan to the newest sandal maker way, and then I thought, you have no idea. Yet.

Although the idea is growing in her as we talked about things and she mentioned that the hardest part is the thinking throughout the day. In career mode she is juggling hundreds of thoughts, a schedule, meetings, decisions and interruptions. In mom mode she is juggling hundreds of thoughts, a schedule, meetings, decisions and interruptions.

What makes the difference? Shutting the door, maybe. I don't know many office settings where co-workers are hollering at you through the bathroom door or shoving notes underneath with questions of import such as, "Where are my frog rain boots?"

I hear lots of moms, at all stages and ages of kid-dom, talking about hiding in the closet whether for prayer or sneaking chocolate. I joke about needing the cone of silence around my head to hold a coherent phone conversation. And don't dare tell the kiddoes that you need it quiet for 15 minutes to read your book club chapter because someone is likely to have an arterial bleeding skinned knee in that amount of time.

Interruptions to my thinking have become so much a part of the flow of my day that....um, I forgot what I was saying.

This isn't a complaining post. Rather I'm trying to remember with self-amusement that I thought this season of life would contain a time of uninterrupted thoughts. Enter the blog. Um, no. Just writing this post has taken two and a half days and over forty interrupts. If I had a point, it was lost somewhere around word fifteen.

I know, I know, I know that someone is expecting the sappy bow on top of how one day I'll miss the interruptions because the house will be too quiet and all the kiddoes gone. I know it will. With two teens I'm already hearing that silence. And I'm not yearning for those days either. I am observing that where I am now is where I am meant to be.

Interruptions and all. Incomplete thoughts and all. No matter what the heck I've named this blog.