Ever seen the "Friends" episode where Joey moves out to "be alone with his thoughts?" (After he moves, he realizes that he doesn't have that many thoughts...)
I've been alone with my thoughts for a couple of months.
Back in June, I witnessed an accident that killed 10 people in a horribly gruesome way. We were right behind it on the turnpike. I saw way too much and I completely shut down afterward.
I grieved like I knew them personally. I started having panic attacks when I saw emergency vehicles. I wouldn't leave my baby with anyone; I didn't want him out of my sight. My husband had to drive anytime we drove on the turnpike. I flipped out for weeks, mostly in private because I think there are times in life where the depth of your pain can only be reached and understood by your Savior. The most comforting advice I received at this time was, "breathe and cry."
So I've been breathing and crying, and that's about it. I stopped blogging to be alone with my thoughts and try to pull myself together. Honestly, I didn't think I had anything to say until I could process it all. Weird, but true.
Then, last night, my baby's butt turned blue. Apparently, I gave him too many blueberries. My sweet baby's hiney is stained blue and I can't figure out how to get it back to a nice pink color.
Yes, it's time to blog again.