As I write this, I lay in a twin sized bed inside of a room with a moon and stars glowing on the ceiling through the dark. I hear the gentle yet deep breath of little lungs beside me, I feel one of my nostrils that is so inflamed I can barely breathe through it, and I’m wearing jeans that are covered in spilled coffee from hours earlier. Yet, I lay here and I write. Why? Because motherhood is about doing things differently. Moving schedules around, staying up late to write a blog you’ve been procrastinating for weeks, maybe getting up early to catch up on dishes. But ugh, if only things were perfect. If only there were more hours in the day to get things done, if only things weren’t so busy, if only I had more help, if only little mouths used indoor voices and their tiny hands tugged less and I wouldn’t get so overstimulated. If only things were perfect.

I was named with a babbling brook in mind, and the babbling part stuck to me. My grandma, or as I call her, Mamo, has told me for years that I was meant to be a newscaster because I can talk and talk without taking a breath. Thus, the outlet for my babbling was born. Welcome to Brooke’s Babbles.