I’m back…I think.

If there is anyone reading this who is looking for the Bordermama, welcome back.  Or perhaps I should say, let me (re)introduce myself.  When I left off with my, ahem, last post wayyyyy back in 2007, I did what I normally do when faced with a lot of change, anxiety, and uncertainty…nothing.  Modus procrastinatus.  Much was brewing then…adoption plans off, new baby on, job/city change, etc.  I was also feeling the need to, not reinvent, but adjust my blog.  I wasn’t liking my tone.  Too know-it-all, too smirky… I still haven’t exactly pinpointed what was bothering me, but change was needed and change was a-comin’.

I’d like to think that the biggest change is that I have given myself permission to do something I have been loathe to give myself in the past…permission to fail.  Yes, fail.  Fail in what, dear reader, I hear you ask.  At first, I merely thought it was permission to fail in keeping a timely blog…not letting too many days slip by, posting every single day like the other blogging moms who manage a post-a-day.  I had craftily thought that by not blogging, I might avoid failure.  You might know that disease I speak of…the If-you-don’t-do-it-perfectly, don’t-do-it-at-all disease?  The last two years have taught me that the only prescription for that affliction is failure.    There is great (and humbling) value in seeing that the whole world does not fall apart when you fail in something.  I have learned that when my plans either disintegrate, get pushed aside, are not good enough, or are just plain wrong, some surprising things happen.   I may have to start over, or listen to advice, or work alongside someone, or (horrors!) let someone else take over.  That’s okay.  Really it is.  And you might have guessed that I am speaking of bigger things than just blogging. 

So, while I say I’m back, I have given myself permission to miss a day, a week, or even a month or two, and not have an all-or-nothing mentality about it.  And you may see a few more un-edited typos.   Or some outrightly lame posts.  That’s okay…it’s my own perfectly (!) neurotic therapy.