I used to be a writer.

So, I was just searching for a post I wrote about San Antonio, and in the process of finding it I stumbled upon a couple posts whose titles intrigued me. I can't remember what I had to eat for lunch, so I definitely can't remember anything I wrote on this blog two years ago...or more.

Turns out I used to be a pretty good writer. It makes me wonder how I can find more time to write now with an infant. Is that possible? However, even if I found the time it might turn out that my brain doesn't work quite the same as it used to. Or maybe I've lost sight of the humor in life now that I spend my days smelling like spit-up and wondering why on earth my five-month-old won't take a nap for longer than 30 minutes.

Somehow I doubt anyone else will think it's hilarious that my daughter will make high-pitched utterances for, literally, 15 minutes while trying to calm herself down to go to sleep and then suddenly conk out.

It's quite possible no one else will care that I still look at her face, her fingers, her little toes, her round knees, her beautiful dimples, and her eyes with their greys, blues, and browns and find it incredible that she's actually here. Our daughter is finally here, living with us, healthy, perfect.

Probably no one needs to read about a mother who can't adequately express how much she loves her daughter.

So, my material might need a little work.

But I should probably start off with finding some time. The moments are so rushed when Grace is sleeping and I'm not. (That has to do with the whole not sleeping more than 30 minutes at a time during the day.)

On that note, I must rush off to take a shower, get the dishes done, fold some laundry, make sure there's a clean bottle in the house, brush my teeth.....before it's time for her to wake up and eat again!