I'm up way too early on a Saturday as usual. And I'm working. As usual. But, my reports pretty much run themselves and I'm not terribly productive or proactive at 6am. I've played all my lives on Candy Crush, read through my newsfeed - more than once. I thought about doing the dishes. No really, I did. Then I realized there was no getting my butt out of this chair except to get more coffee, and that cup is full. I started reading through my old bookmarked blogs. I love The Bloggess, she's really awesome but if you're easily offended skip it. I stop there every morning and part of my routine. There are others too but that's where I started this morning. I started going back through my old Blog Favorites folder and realized that most of them are gone! It's been a while since I've looked at some of them (last post in 2011? Really? Huh.) but I was kind of sad to find them not waiting for my return.
It got me thinking about my own blog here. Honestly I've kind of let it slip. While it was never something I wanted to make a living from, it was a much needed extension of my mental health. Whoa does that explain a lot. For a lot of it I've not shared things that are just too personal. While I admire those bloggers that I read that are sharing their crippling depression and new found love for Xanax (I don't judge. Been there. Amen to modern pharmaceuticals and their ability to return life when it's been sucked through your eyeballs) I'm not there. I have been and so I get it. Sometimes it's just me, and the overwhelming life that comes from having five kids, a gigantic dog, and an ailing father. I don't want to listen to myself whine, why the hell would the other two people that read this thing care?
There is joy, too. The amazing feeling of completeness that my children bring. Because, along with the fact that they make me bat-shit crazy, I love my children like nothing else! I would sacrifice anything for them and their happiness. Sometimes there are just so damn many of them. What falls short is the ability to share and analyze all that they make me feel. The moments are so precious. Even the ones that have me screaming like a crazy person. I am always learning and growing as a parent and as a person. This shit is hard, yo! Maybe I should share more of that. We are not alone in this, even though it often feels that way.
I'm a little scattered, too. I have grand plans and, sometimes, very little follow-through. It's not from a place of malice, or irresponsibility. It's a creative side that has yet to be adequately tapped. It's needing something to call my own in the midst of the chaos that is my life, it's a desire to take on everything and having to let the things with lesser importance drop. It's part of who I am. Love it or hate it, it's something that just has to be dealt with. Honestly I'm
My point? Oh hell, who knows? I am ever evolving, and I hope that my blog is showing that. At least to some degree. This is really for my recollection. That is what I need to remember most of all. There will be a time when I will look back and this can be a reminder of how the kids were, how I was, how my family was. That is what I need to remember when deciding to (or not) share something. I need to make the time to keep this up (I know I've said it before) if for no other reason than prosperity's sake.
Oh look, my coffee cup is empty...