Mission Statement

We are a people who tell stories in one form or another.
After all isn't blogging just another way to gather around and tell those stories?

Motherhood is Painless is about finding the humor in the every day. What would happen if we *all* learned to laugh at ourselves maybe then the dark corners can recede a bit and we can all rejoice at the love we find.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Fresh With No Mistakes, or How I Challenged Myself with the #typeachallenge

I've done the first month of #typeachallenge assignments.

You can see one of them above - write a mission statement for your blog. Harder than you'd think, really. But, it dovetails so nicely with the other two assignments for the month that it came to me fairly easily.

First, I had to think of something I wanted to focus on for the coming year. Ever since I started on this Type-A journey last summer, I've wanted to get more people to read these words. At the exact same time, I've wanted to write more deeply from my heart.

I had to create a blogging calendar for the coming year. I sat with that for a while and decided that I would chose 12 appropriate themes, one per month and write on those subjects.

Appropriately, the theme I chose for January is New Beginnings.
I like the way this feels, like Anne Shirley said "Isn't it nice to know that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"

Not that I think the past blogging I've done has been riddled with problems, but I think this challenge will help direct me a lot more, and make me stronger as a writer by the end.

I hope so.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Kick back and enjoy

I thought I was doing well there for a while. I was writing, chugging along.

But here it is, January. A whole new year stands bright and shiny ahead of us, and I haven't actually written anything substantial here in months.

What has been going on - well, the kids are enjoying school, and we've finally sorted out all the nonsense that comes along with that. After school activities are well in hand, as well. And we are all enjoying them.

But me - I have next to nothing to say. I feel bad about that, I do, and I've tried. But when I sit here, nothing comes out, and it feels false to put words to the screen without feeling behind them.


I signed up for a blog challenge. Deep breath. Standing on the springboard.


Thursday, November 27, 2014

Make Me an Instrument

I wish I had better words today. Words to resonate, reflect and teach, but I am weak. I am scared and sad for the world. So much hatred, so much hurt and sadness.

He said it so much more eloquently than I ever could. May your hearts find lightness and love today, and all days. 

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Falling Further In

After the last year, it seems almost wrong to admit to loving the autumn this time around. I feel like a Pollyanna to admit to wanting to embrace the brightly colored leaves and cooling weather.

I don't remember how old I was when my dad would start these speeches about the turning of the seasons, "The leaves start turning colors, and the air gets crisp. Fall is a wonderful time of the year...."

At the time I thought it was corny.  (I must have been a teenager, come to think of it.) Mostly because the start of every season meant another speah. "Ahh...springtime...."

But now, I'm grown, I have kids of my own, and I think I'm starting to understand the need to mark time like this. The kids are growing so fast now, learning, stretching, pushing. And time marches on, so we comment on the leaves falling, and the cold coming, because we cannot stop it, not even if we tried.

Friday, October 10, 2014


I wish I had something else to say. There's only so much a person can ramble on about how she's looking forward to the changes that will eventually come with the new chapter in her life. Only so much imagining that can come before the dreams start to sag under their own potential.

So I will tell you a story, instead.

Ben loves Legos. Loves them. He's got bins, baggies and a huge sack of them stuffed under the bed. Claire loves them too, and, as it happens so does my husband. (To be perfectly honest, I'm rather fond of them myself, but don't yet have my *own* set of Legos.)

Chances are, if there is a mess here, then there are probably those little plastic bricks involved. Not too long ago, I was puttering around while the kids were at camp. I stepped on one of those things. HOLY CRAP, believe me when I tell you, it was one of the single most painful experiences of my life. Childbirth, root canal and hand surgery. Nothing compares to the feeling of that little plastic piece cramming itself up into the bottom of my foot. Nothing. And I limped around for two days afterwards. Two days.

I told a friend about it, and she said. "Man, isn't that some sort of perfect metaphor for parenthood."

Pain, caused by your kid, that you have to power through to deal with your kid. Yep, that is pretty perfect.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

A Seat At the Table

I remember it well.

It was late 1993, and I was a senior in college. My boyfriend at the time, an engineering student, had an email account. I remember that he let me use it from time to time to write to friends at other schools.

Not too long afterwards, I had my own account and needed it for classes, but in my spare time, I started. Dipping my toes into the newly-born Internet.

I found bulletin boards, like-minded explorers trying things on for size.
Later on, I found friends, started a blog at LiveJournal and made more friends. It was fun.

Eventually, I moved to a traditional blog - this one. I've been here for a while and I love it. I love the way it feels when the words come flying out of my fingers. It's liberating, in a way that nothing else can bring me.

Last month, I went to a blogging conference, my second. Unlike the first time, I walked away full. Full of ideas. Full of hope. Full of confidence. I remember, at some point, talking to one of my friends saying something about how I'm not a "big blogger." She turned to me. "You have to stop saying that."

Perhaps I am a small blogger, but writing here feels good. It's what my soul needs some times.

I'm going back to Type-A next year. I bought my ticket yesterday, I found a roommate. And, we're going to be Awesome.