Earlier this week, while I was working on my computer, I clumsily knocked over a cup of soda. Thankfully, Mr. Wright was close by and was able to do damage control before the globs of sticky tonic saturated my keyboard, and eventually made it down over the side of the table and onto the papers on the floor below. As I sat there holding up the pile of valuables, while he sopped up the mess (aren’t hubby’s awesome like that?) I thought to myself how glad I was that it was me who had made this MISTAKE and not one of my kiddos….

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So I told you we had our third child! YAY! I am totally head over heels in love with her, as is Mr. Wright.

She has elements of both her brother and sister but in many ways she is her own little person. Little being the optimum word. In fact, she was our smallest baby to date- (did I really just say that?) weighing in at 8.8 lbs when she was born. I didn’t want to rush to finding a nickname for this one,

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So judging from the title of this post, you have probably ascertained that I had baby #3. And you would be right! She is in fact so new that she doesn’t even have a spiffy nick name yet- so for now I will refer to her as baby #3.

But yes! She was born on Wednesday afternoon at 3:42 pm. She was 8lbs 8 ounces, the smallest of the bunch so far and she is absolutely gorgeous,

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It’s so easy to ruminate on the things in life that aren’t exactly the way we would like them to be. In fact I used to kind of be an expert in this… assessing my life in terms of what hadn’t happened yet, or what I didn’t own yet, or where I hadn’t been. There is a saying that life is about the journey, and I used to interpret that as “collect as much crap as you can before you die.”

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I know.

I know. ::Sigh::

You don’t even have to say anything. I abandoned you. I left and I didn’t even say goodbye. And then all of a sudden months later I show up and I expect everything to just go back to the way it was…. how dare I right?

I could explain…. well… I AM gonna explain as best I can… but basically… my life completely changed….

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Okay, so let me start by saying: This was NOT my idea. I didn’t push her, mention it, I didn’t make her watch videos about it.. nothing. I had NOTHING to do with making Tiny potty train.

One day she quietly said, “Potty mom, I want to go potty.” and to be honest at that moment I was kinda sad! I had just ordered up a cute stash of new cloth diapers for her and I wasn’t even gonna get to use them!

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So here it is, almost 11pm on a Sunday night and my kids are fast asleep in their cribs. The laundry is done (for the most part) the house is clean(ish) and I really don’t have much I have to be doing. The smart thing to do would be to go to bed, and tackle tomorrow with fresh eyes full of energy and vim and vigor- decaf coffee in hand… and I would… except I can’t….

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So I am sitting here on the tarmac waiting to take off- after one of those short but much needed trips back home. It’s that quiet moment between when the cabin doors are closed and the plane starts its race down the runway. The anticipation is there for everyone- and there is a stillness that allows you to be alone with your thoughts- and so I am.
With all the horrible tragedies that have happened inside of the last week- I find myself so raw- so utterly disenchanted with people in general- and It’s sad.

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People are obsessed with Facebook.

Most people seem to have a real love/hate relationship with this particular flavor of social media. I admit, I am one of those people who can be found whiling away the hours with my phone in hand scrolling through the newsfeeds of my “friends.” Sometimes to pass the time, sometimes just out of habit. Yeah, I spend a lot of time on there- but you know what? I have actually made some really meaningful connections on it.

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I have to stop reading my Facebook newsfeed. Between the terrifying news updates about war and disease, and the  sharing of time-sucking, mindless drivel (yes, I did watch the keyboard cat more times than I care to admit) it always ends up making me feel worse than before I looked.

And I keep promising myself I won’t do it, and I just don’t listen! Oh well, suit myself… I warned me…

Like…

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