The truth is…

The truth is, today, I feel overwhelmed. I want to write about a million things. Daily, topics make a web of my mind, but there is no time… to write about:

• How conceiving Madeleine was not an accident. She was planned, and we have used natural methods of birth control our entire marriage. It works. And more and more women are choosing this approach over the pill. Macleans has got the story.
• Volunteerism. I am having a deep urge to volunteer. At a local half-way house. Or the crisis pregnancy centre. Or at the local MP office. Or all. 
• How when I am about to burst into tears, like this afternoon, overwhelmed by the demands I set on myself, the endless practicalities of motherhood/wifely-hood/writerhood, trying to figure out how to spend my ‘free’ 45 minutes of ‘me’ time (send out interview questions for a feature? journal? pump milk? search craigslist for a new desk? blog? have a shower? eat lunch?) my darling daughter stares up at my from her perch on my chest and says with her eyes: “Mommy, it’s okay.” The world slips away.
• Poetry. How it’s been spilling out since Madeleine’s birth.
• How the book I’ve been creating — taking on the stat that 31% of Canadians are made uneasy by born-again Christians — by telling stories of daily, simple, world-changing faith in Jesus, is going to become a website. I met with my web designer last week and designs are in process. Now I am looking for an awesome name for the project. Ideas anyone?

That’s all I have to say. For now. Love to all, friends.