This is a picture of my boys making a book racetrack around my entire house.
I took pictures and thought this is so cute. I will put this on the blog. My kids are literary. They use books for all their various playtime needs. I am such a cool mom. I encourage creative play. Keep writing so my kids can walk on your published works! Yay!
Four hours later, the book train was in my way. Okay. Let’s pick it up.
They run away and hide.
We’re too tired. You do it.
Boys. Come on. Let’s do it together. When we’re helping, we’re happy and we sing as we go . . .
They dump out a bag of flour. My neighbor comes over right then.
I am not wearing a bra.
This reminds me, the other day someone came over and my bra was in the middle of the front room. I have no idea how it got there. Sometimes I think, who reads this blog and do we really want more readers? How many people do I want knowing about my bra problems.
I wonder why I write stuff like this if I’m worried about that. The problem is I can’t help myself. Cam was re-reading the one blog where I split my pants. Did I write that? Yeah. You did.
My friend from high school came over to clean our carpets (highly recommend by the way) and he said something that hinted that he had maybe read my blog. The horror.
Here’s the thing about blogging. I like it. I think it’s great practice and I think it’s important that all writers have some kind of connection to other writers. Writing can be so lonely and discouraging and frustrating. It’s nice to have people to commiserate with.Writing can also be exciting and crazy and hilarious and it’s wonderful to have people who we can celebrate the small victories with. Blogging is great.
The problems with blogging are many. It can feel a little lonely sometimes–especially when you feel you’ve put yourself out there and you wonder why you let that float out into cyberspace. Or maybe worse, for me,it can feel like maybe I’m coming off weird. Or pathetic. Or loud? Too dramatic? Do you guys worry about that ? One time I blogged and all of my sisters came over and suggested anti-depressants. I was like, what? What did I write? Writing makes us vulnerable. Being vulnerable on a weekly basis is hard. Of course I could take myself out of the writing which is probably the solution but then I don’t know what I would write? That’s sad and self-indulgent maybe.
Another thing, maybe I don’t make it to the comments (though i read every single one) and then I worry that I come off as a jerk? There are so many things. Maybe a few close readers is the solution.
On the flip side, we were hoping when we started this blog that we could create a large writing community. That we could support each other from all over the place. We hoped the blog would grow and develop and change. I think it has done that to a certain extent. When we think of all the ways we could make it be even better (better design, more links, post contests, find pub news, get an intern) it gets overwhelming.
I guess right now we’re just reassessing. We want to make this a good safe place to discuss, to push ourselves, to do writing exercises, to cheer each other on, to win prizes, and to make fun of each other, to be sad together, etc. I think we need fresh legs is all.
Thank you to all of you who do read and do support us. We love you all and this has become home for me in a lot of ways.
The bra is still in the middle of the room, P.S.