Sorry, not sorry

Besides my last post, if anyone is following along you are probably sick to death of all the baby stuff. I would apologize but I wouldn’t meant it. I’ve wanted to be a mother ever since I can remember. As a child I was obsessed with playing with dolls. I played with barbies into my teens. I started trying to conceive only six months into my marriage. I so desperately wanted a child. Seven years later I finally go one.

And she is perfect. A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E! Precious and mine (at least she is mine, to raise, for now, on loan from Heaven). Like all older mothers advise, I am enjoying every second of it. So, no, I’m not going to apologize, and no, I’m probably not going to post about much of anything else.

I don’t write in my journal anymore so I’m using this blog to commemorate my life and I’m totally okay with that. If you aren’t, then stop reading.

That is all. And no, no one has said anything rude. I’m just feeling guilty and this is my way of telling myself that it’s okay.


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