Whew.

I am back. I got back late Sunday night and have not stopped since. Work yesterday, therapy, dinner, drinks, and then work again, and tonight I am going to the Giants game, and then tomorrow work again, and finally a chance to breathe tomorrow night (and unpack, and do laundry. If I'm being honest I might just do what my roommates have already done in their weaker, lazier, busier moments and just take it in for a wash. For shame). And by breathe, I hopefully mean blog about my epic, amazing trip. For now all I can say was that it was exactly what I needed, and more than I expected, and just all around awesome and eye-opening and comforting and enriching, and I could not have gone on a trip with better people. I feel so good about it now.

I am of course still running around a bit at work, and wading through the literally thousands of accumulated blog posts in my reader (and articles on The Caucus), but the first blog I caught up on was Postcards from yo momma, and I realized partly why I like it so much. First of all, it has an element of surprise like nothing else. And it's hilariously true, and it actually is true, which is obviously part of the appeal. There's such an interesting demographic mix, parents who are clearly hip to the net, parents who can barely type, parents who are eloquent, those who can barely spell, city dwellers, country dwellers, homebodies, hicks, cosmopolitan world travelers, people who have great relationships with their kids and those who are begging for their child just to listen. I love trying to puzzle out the hints contained in each post, try to guess at the relationship, the circumstances, the context, everything. I love the sheer humanity of it. But the other thing I think I love about it is the mom-ness of it. I mean, I love this mass sisterhood of mothers, all around the country, all in many ways the same despite all their differences, and all so overflowing with love and worry for their kids. It's like they are all shades of the same family. And I love that the love is so great that it's goofy and over the top and exaggerated, and I feel good that someday I, too, can be a crazy mother sending crazy e-mails to her kids, and I can also be part of that sisterhood of moms, and I can be shameless about it, and I can be yet another member of this crazy, aching humanity.

Plus, where else can you get such nuggets of unexpected wisdom.

mom: I hated kayaking so much this weekend I used the F word on Dad
mom: He kayaked away for awhile and I was lost
mom: stupid me
mom: don't use the F word unless you can find home
mom: but he felt sorry for me cause I was paddling backwards at one point
mom: actually, I found backwards more relaxing
mom: but he thinks I was just incompetant

Don't use the F word unless you can find home. How true.

(here)