I just opened a Facebook message from a friend of mine. In it, she wrote she was thinking of me and that I am a terrific mom. I try. I try every day. Sometimes I hit it out of the park and sometimes I sound very whiny and sad. The last couple weeks have sounded more whiny and sad than I’d like. That actually woke me up around 4 AM–that I sounded so down and broadcast it via this blog. I’m not. Not always. I just feel more compelled to write it out when I’m sad or angry or contemplative. Writing is what allows me to get it out, so I can be there, be present for the boys the rest of the time. I’m OK. I hate this, but I am OK. There is no other way to be. I still laugh like a fool–too often, too loudly and often too inappropriately. I dance around the house all day long and am never not singing, the kids are fed and the laundry’s done. Life doesn’t just take a months-long time out. I think that most of the time, no one in my house knows what lurks in my heart when I do feel like I did yesterday. And not because I’m hiding something, but because I find the fun and happy in the mundane and revel in it. I so appreciate my friend’s offer of conversation and support, as do I appreciate every kind thing any of you have written to me here or via email. Truly. Writing this blog is a substitute for having the hard conversations I would sometimes rather not. When people ask how I am, I can say, “here, read this.” Maybe it’s a fence, but no fences are constructed to last for all time–there’s always a way to be found over or under or around. Just knowing I have good people in my life cracks open the gate to this fence. I am lucky, I know this.