connecting.

It snowed about a foot the day I took these pictures. Since we live in Utah, and school is almost never cancelled, just my four-year-old was home with me. We went out and rolled up a little snowman, which only stood about twenty minutes before it came crashing down into a pile of snow and polar fleece. Surprisingly, my little guy didn’t cry when the snowman fell, he just asked me to build a fort. Days like this make me wonder if I take enough time like this with my kids. They remind me of Nie Nie, actually, the woman I look to as the ultimate example of Motherhood. And then I don’t wonder if I spend enough time with my kids, I know that I don’t. I mean, I’m with them. Goodness, I with them all the time. But I’m not always really there. Not really. That’s the part I struggle with. Loneliness has been a constant companion for as long as I can remember. The empty ache I feel never seems to go away, and compels me to flee toward things like reading, blogging, or talking on the phone.



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