Confession time. I am addicted to social media. I am that annoying person whose Facebook feeds you have blocked because I'm constantly sharing silly links and cute photos. I'm also that girl, the one who updates her Facebook status over the most inane things. In honor of Griffin's first birthday, I read through a year of Facebook updates — starting from the moment I arrived at the hospital. (Yes, I Facebooked during labor). While I was scrolling through them all, I was surprised to learn that Griffin wasn't the only one who has changed over the past 12 months.

Griffin will be 1 this week. He's already had an impromptu birthday party while we were in Michigan visiting family. He smothered his face in blue frosting and tried to feed his mom and dad with cake stuck to his little digits. I teared up a little, because it feels like yesterday that Mike and I were taking him home from the hospital.

Two blog posts ago (read: nearly four months ago), I wrote about how it's important to strive for a schedule. Work-at-home moms may not have the structure a 9-to-5 offers, but certainly they can compartmentalize their time into: baby, self, husband and job.

A couple weeks after I had Griffin, I called my mom.

To apologize.

“I am so sorry I ever caused you grief — at every stage,” I said, adding, “This mothering thing is hard.”

Like most kids, it took me awhile to realize my parents weren't always parents. I don't think they became actual people until I was in college, out of the nest. When I became a mother, scared to death to bring this beautiful newborn home from the hospital, I finally realized what my mom's life has been like.

Why is it that whenever I plan to write my blog there's an interruption? For weeks, the little voice in the back of my head that reminds me of various forgotten tasks has been screaming, "BLOG! BLOG! BLOG!"

Before I became a mother, time rushed like a roaring river. After I became a mother, time dried up like the Sahara.

I moved to the Lowcountry from Indiana as a very green newspaper reporter, thinking that Hilton Head Island and Bluffton would be a rung in the ladder until I finally arrived in Chicago or New York.

That was ten years ago.