I stared at the screen and struggled to wrap my heart around it. It did not fit me anymore. I tried to write on the blog that once was but it felt like it belonged to a woman that once was. It was beautiful; it was pristine. It was perfectly styled and classically cursive. Scrolling led to images worthy of social media virality. There was so much cooking and entertaining and traveling; there were clothes and flower arrangements and baked goodies. I scoffed at the blog, at the woman. Out of jealousy, perhaps? Or nostalgia? Both, probably. 

My days now consist of changing nappies, cleaning up baby food, and pushing a pram. I wake up to a baby that wants to be picked up and it is non-stop action from there. By the time I put him to sleep, it is time to be a wife and cook and clean…

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