I wonder if all us infertile baby bloggers did a check in... one of those no shit, everything is ^&*ing real check-ins. Would we shed the parenting guilt that we are so grateful to be here and talk about the difficulty of the seasons?
Whatever that season is we are in.
For me, we are the, if lucky, new high schooler parents. But, woooooo boyyyyy, we will get to that.
We are also the throes of parenting a pandemic while in critical years.
We are aging parents and changing jobs
We are world is burning, and black lives matter, and who is our President now really fighting for?
We are, what is truth and reality when YouTube and podcasts and AI are blurring the line between information and manipulation.
We are, who are we without those we parent, and how close they are until they fly/fall out of/ flee the nest?
And when people say, how are you, REALLY? Do they want to know?
How are you really?
Really, we are.... treading.
I guess there is a reason that treading water is an important part of the swimming test. There are going to be times when you are making progress and lapping lanes, but I am feeling more and more life is sometimes just about rotating, maintaining your buoyance keeping your head above water, and churning for what is next.
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