Sometimes, I want to say, it’s hard to blog. With baby and kids and home school and new unsettled house, it’s hard to blog.

Except really what I mean is: it’s hard to do anything. I like to say that it’s hard to get dressed, and it is, I’m not even kidding about that, but yesterday I got dressed and then at the end of the day I slept in my clothes because it was too hard to get undressed. See, anything.

We finally have internet access—woohoo, communication!—so I turned on my iPad for the first time in six weeks. Six weeks? Can that be right? I don’t even know. However long it’s been since we moved. I turned it on, and it still had open the windows of all the articles and blog posts I was reading the day we moved, all the amazon pages for books I meant to order for Christmas but forgot, all the Christmas crafts I thought I might get around to but didn’t. I closed them, one by one, reading or adding-to-wish-list or just acknowledging my own good intentions before clicking away.

And that feels like an accomplishment, that small piece of digital closure.

Because sometimes, right now, it’s hard to do just about anything. Sometimes everything really is hard (like when a confluence of unfortunate events lead to me sleeping fully dressed, with a baby waking in my arms every twenty minutes all night).

Other times things just feel difficult, even when, objectively, they really aren’t all that impressive (like when I just want to eat lunch! but someone needs help to go potty and someone else needs milk and someone else needs to know the capitol of Bolivia or something).

It gets easier, I could say. (True.)
It’s hard, but it’s worth it, I could say. (Uh, obviously.)
It’s hard but the kids are so cute. (Really cute, but beside the point.)
Don’t sweat the small stuff, I could say. (Eh?)
Here’s a pretty little life lesson to take home, I could say. (Well wouldn’t that be swell.)

But really, what I want to say is just: sometimes it’s hard to do anything. And saying so helps.

Sometimes it’s just hard.