It was the moment I absent-mindedly shoved a binky in my husband’s mouth that I knew motherhood had consumed me. How could I be so distracted, so very automated, that I didn’t notice whose face I was trying to pacify?

I laughed at myself. It was, after all, very funny. But even as I laughed, I knew I needed to find my way back. Back to myself, and the present. So here I sit, a stolen half hour when the girls are asleep and my husband watches golf on the couch. This blog is my way to rekindle that internal monologue that has been so stunted, so overridden by nap schedules, to-do lists, and toddler power struggles. An endeavor for me.

So here I will indulge my passion for cooking (I rarely make the same dish twice), photography, and the written word (my old friend and best method of expression). Who knows if my thoughts will be read. Does it matter? They are my own true thoughts, and that’s enough for me.

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