When I started this blog, I wanted to be funny and honest without complaining or being repetitive. Only I’m not a good enough writer to be funny all the time, and it’s hard not to sound repetitive when you have little children because they do the same things every day. When life is difficult I tend to just avoid blogging because being honest feels like complaining and staying light and positive feels dishonest. Blogging is supposed to be a fun way to process life and keep my writing skills sharp. It seems narcissistic to feel stressed out about blogging, as if my little life were so important that I owe it to the masses to give regular updates on my life. But I enjoy writing so to pass it off as a narcissistic pastime also feels unfair. I’ve gone around and around about these things and have never come up with a satisfactory conclusion.
The truth is, life is a mix of ups and downs. I could stay positive all the time, but that would eventually start to sound like bragging. The last thing I want to do is make you think I don’t have any problems. But if I tried so hard to keep it real that I only told you about the struggles, then I’d just sound like another whining Mommy-blogger. There’s enough of those already. And honestly, sometimes I love to write, but other times I loathe it. And when I loathe it I usually just avoid it altogether, but that’s not very fair to me. No one keeps their writing skills sharp just by thinking about writing. At some point I have to sit down and write something, which I’ll probably hate and want to delete. I try not to delete things when I’m in that mood, but sometimes I don’t have enough willpower–then into the trash it goes.
The last couple of weeks has been a mix of sickness, construction, stress, puppet shows, playgrounds, riding toys, volleyball games, sunshine, rainstorms, first steps, first dry panties, long days, holidays, exhaustion, guilt, anxiety, irritation, repentance, prayer, and thankfulness. When life is overwhelming, I’ll tell myself to just “do the next thing.” Maybe I should start giving myself that advice when I don’t feel like putting words on paper: “Write the next thing.” And then edit and re-edit that thing. Because chances are whatever I forced out in the first place was terrible.