wanting more...

I'm a new mom, an old soul, a wife, daughter, sister and friend...
I'm smart, and funny, silly at times...

I am capable of a lot, and I feel like I could do a lot... I use the words 'a lot' because they are so ambiguous.

I used to paint, and write poetry... it's been almost a year since my hand has held a pen or paint bush...

I realize that I want to de clutter to clean out and tidy up my home... to prepare myself for the next one, look forward to the next Home we make.

I feel a little trapped, a little less useful, a little more in pain, and a little forgotten... and it didn't bother me until today.

I often sit and think of the places I'd like to go, pictures I'd like to take, people I'd like to meet, and food I'd love to taste....

My body is restless ... ... ... to move, to create, to carry, to rest...

I have no projects, no plans, to busy myself I've written and rewritten six different budget plans for our house, and I know, like the last six, these won't be followed... they won't even be heard...

I long for a day when we sit and talk, dream big and move forward... I'm not in a state of discontent, I'm in a stated of stagnation...