Early last week, I deleted Facebook off my phone. I’ve been a member of Facebook since my senior year in college & truthfully, I am exhausted of it after almost 10 years.
Then on Thursday night, I deleted Twitter.
It’s easy to feel so small & insignificant in this huge world of constant connectivity & social media. Like standing in front of a crashing ocean before a hurricane & I’m not sure whether the feeling is thrilling or terrifying, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to be eaten alive by either the storm itself or what lies beneath it.
It’s easy to feel left behind & overwhelmed & just plain old not good enough ever. The competition to write that first, get more shares, get more likes, more followers…it is mind-numbing exhaustion & the truth is that the more I’m connected to everyone else, the less I’m connected to myself. That, my friends, is a shame. I read articles about moms pushing their babies on the swing while checking their phones & I’d sniff that it wasn’t me but the truth is, it is me. It’s all of us & we’re just too damn afraid to admit it while our phones sit in our back pockets at the dinner table. I used to justify it by “growing my brand” but this blog will never be my business & it’s liberating.
So I deleted it all. I am not small & I’m not insignificant in real life where I laugh louder than I should & get lost into a book for hours, where I pretend-play kitchen with my son & then be the woman curved against my husband.
This weekend Doug & I made floating shelves & Harrison helped with the wood glue & we made burrito bowls for supper. We were having such a wonderful time that at 5:30pm when I was supposed to leave for a Girls Night In, I decided to stay home. I love my girlfriends. They’re a very part of my soul & I miss them & wanted to see them, but I wanted my boys more in that moment & that’s okay.
The point is that while my friends on Twitter were trying to convince me to go, my phone couldn’t chirp & it was easier to follow my heart & take care of me.
The next morning, I woke up before the boys & then took Harrison to the park, just me & him. It was gorgeous but the air was cool & his tiny hand held mine & he’s learning to skip. He asked me if I smelled that & yep, I smell sunshine & rain & trees. What do you smell, Hibby? He smells poop!! because he’s a three-year-old boy & potty humor is the funniest thing ever. We fed ducks & he climbed the rock wall & the steel ladders all by himself. Afterwards, we went to Trader Joes & I let him use a little cart & he felt so big. He asked me if we could get veggie sticks & sliced mushrooms & even though he has no idea what either of those are, I said yes & he was so proud to push his groceries through the store.
When the sun set yesterday after we spent the afternoon planting flowers & jumping on the trampoline, I sat on the deck & leaned back against the house & told Doug how much I loved living in our home with him.