Beginnings are awkward.
The beginning of a new friendship is filled with did-she-really-mean-it-when-she-said-she-had-fun?s. And will-she-totally-judge-me-for-the-lip-prints-on-my-patio-door?s. Followed by the did-she-notice-that-I-had-no-clue-what-she-meant-when-she-started-talking-about-thieves-and-a-diffuser?s. And the if-she's-one-of-those-people-who-actually-makes-the-things-she-pins-on-Pinterest-we-totally-can't-be-friends.
Beginning a new relationship is even worse. Do you call him, or wait for him to call you? Is he playing hard to get, or does he just not like you all that much? And are you supposed to play hard to get or drop subtle hints that you like him? Does he find your nervous habits endearing...or annoying? Is this whole dating thing really worth the effort?
Then there's the beginning of a new stage in your life -- like becoming a parent. You get ready to leave the hospital and find yourself thinking, Are they really just going to let us walk out of here with this tiny person? That doctor had to notice that we have no clue what we're doing. Ohmyword, we are responsible for keeping this itty-bitty human alive. And then there are the three months after that when you never sleep and you smell like spit-up 24/7 and you forget really important things (like the fact that your shoes should match when you leave the house).
Fast forward a few years to the time when you go from one child to two (or, if you're crazy like us, one child to three). Not only are you suddenly playing zone instead of man defense, the child who used to have you all to themselves goes completely ballistic and you find yourself parenting two toddlers and a psycho. Fun times.
In case you haven't guessed, beginnings are not my favorite. That being said, my life is pretty much chock full of beginnings at the moment.
It's the beginning of 2015. I'm not huge on New Year's Resolutions. (Mostly because they seem to last an average of about 6-1/2 days in my world.) Official resolutions or not, the start of a new year is a reflective time. Even I, Miss-N0-Resolutions, like to think back on memories from the past year and look ahead to goals and plans for the coming year. It thrills my little OCD self to fill up my calendar and make fun lists. I mean, how can a crossed-out list with an alliterative title not give you chills? How lovely is this?
15 Fun Things to Do as A Family in 2015
But I digress.
I'm trying to begin blogging...again. It's kind of nerve-wracking. I know I used to blog, but I'm pretty sure half my brain has died since then. I swear having three kids under five kills brain cells...or steals them...or something. Or maybe it's just the sleep deprivation talking. Then there's the fact that I used to blog in complete glorious silence. As I type this, there are three little people giving me a make-over. (You try piecing together a coherent sentence while one child is not-so-gently putting pig tails in your hair and another is spilling eye shadow on your keyboard. It's. Not. Easy.)
(As a side note, I totally used to judge adoptive moms who blogged prolifically during their adoption process and then dropped off the face of the earth after coming home. I swore I wouldn't do that. I had every good intention of continuing to chronicle our adoption journey after coming home. Then we came home. So, if you're one of those moms....I'm so, so sorry. I didn't get it. I was wrong.)
The most monumental new beginning in our life is we're starting the adoption process to go to Ch*na for Baby #4. We're jumping back into the paperwork-gathering trenches. Once again, we are collecting birth certificates and getting blood tests and donating a good portion of our life savings to F*dEx.
Even though beginnings aren't my favorite, it's hard to imagine what life would be like without them.
All my besties were once strangers. Those super awesome girls I call when I need to vent or cry or drink wine eat chocolate were once the acquaintances who made me totally self-conscious about the processed food in my pantry.
I had a first date with my husband. The amazing guy who has stuck with me for eleven years and been across an ocean to bring our babies home and still thinks I'm hot even with gray hair was once the guy I wasn't sure whether to call...or ignore...or kiss.
I survived the first days home with our littles. My three awesome kids who are getting crazy big and who love each other bunches and who are only psycho on rare occasions were each brand-new once.
So...here's to awkward, difficult, unpredictable new beginnings. I don't love you, but I know you're just one small part of the story. And I know you're worth it. In fact, I'm actually a little excited to find myself standing at the beginning...all over again.
(Please tell me mascara comes off of computer screens.)
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