the smell of blogs

found it over here

Warning: This post is probably going to be a little boring for the grandparents who come here to see adorable pictures of their delightful grandpeople. I've placed pictures of the delightful grandpeople amongst the rambling words. That way, the grandparents (and a few aunts and uncles) can just scroll through all the boring words and see the cute kids they came here to see and be on their way to doing more productive things like knitting, napping and online shopping.

Here goes nothin'.

I've had quite a few thoughts/feelings/emotional issues about this whole blogging stuff for quite a while. I don't usually blog about blogging (poop and puke are much more interesting) but I'm having a hard time not thinking about it right now. Do with it what you will. I'll get back to blogging about cookies, kids and other non-inspiring things shortly.

I don't consider myself a writer. Some people blog because they have a passion for writing. It's their hobby. Maybe they just love to write. They have dreams of publishing a book some day and a blog is the place where they hone their craft, get their words out there, get noticed.

That's not why I have a blog.

I started blogging so I could share pictures and stories about my kids (and sometimes Dan) with family and friends. It was fun. It was easy. My kids say funny things. Like just this week, I asked Cate if she wanted some milk to drink. She replied, "No more milky. It makes my boobies hurt." That's funny stuff. Some of it gets written in their journals. Some of it here. Most of the time I wonder if anyone else will think it's funny. Then I try not to care if anyone else thinks it's funny.

Some people have food blogs. I'd like to do that. Seems like too much work though. Where are the kids when the mom is cooking, baking and taking pictures of the food? Seriously. Where are they? Mine are mostly at my feet, attempting to climb on the counters, opening the fridge. That's not fun. Are the kids asleep? Are they at school? Who's going to wash all those dishes? I'm pretty sure we'd be a family of fatties if I had a food blog, mostly because I prefer baking and that stuff isn't usually calorie free.

Some people have craft blogs. I try to stay away from those. They make me feel badly about my level of craftiness. Plus, I look at an aluminum can and just think it needs to get tossed into the recycling. Those crafty ladies look at an aluminum can and figure out how they can create a pair of earrings, a necklace, a headband and some kind of banner to hang on their mantle out of it. I'm lucky to have construction paper, crayons, kid scissors and glue that isn't dried up in my craft closet. Never mind. I don't have a craft closet. I have a few drawers that are currently on the dining room table for easy access. They've been there all winter.

I don't really know what this blog is. It started out about the kids. Then I got to thinking that they get all the attention and I was a little jealous. So I added stuff about me once in a while. It's come to be my little space. Kind of like when I was a teacher and I had my classroom. It was my space.

I enjoy blogging, except when I get frustrated. Then I feel like nobody cares (including me) and I complain to Dan that "this blog stuff is ruining my life!" I really said that recently. Sheesh.

I want to be creative. I think this blog has become my creative place. I don't make stuff out of cans and spray paint. I just write stuff and post pictures. It's just my little place to do what I want. In a house where I pretty much don't have anything to myself (even time on the toilet most days), it's mine.

If I want to share a recipe that I like, that's what I'll do (even if Dan doesn't care how much flour is in it...he's told me that before).

If I want to do some kind of activity with my kids, take pictures of it and then blog about it, I will. I get ideas of fun stuff to do from other blogs. Who says I can't do that too?

If I want to say something like "good crap, I'm going crazy today" then I can. I probably won't, but I can. I'm not a bad person just because my kids make me crazy sometimes. Sometimes they make me laugh so it all balances out (not totally, but they're trying).

If I want to blog about cool stuff that I found, bought, saw somewhere, vacuumed from under the chair or scraped out of the microwave, I can.

I went to a blogger conference last May. I came home feeling a little overwhelmed and a lot discouraged. Good thing the tickets were free. I'm not a social butterfly. Those conferences are heavy on the socializing. I understand that. I think I'll just need to be heavily medicated next time I go.

Other stuff I remember from the conference: one of the presenters saying that comments don't matter (I beg to differ, although she was just trying to make those of us who are lucky to get one or two feel better), the guy who sat down next to me in a class and said, "So...do you have a blog?" (huh? where are we? Arby's? yeah, I have a blog), a bunch of blah blah blah about ads and marketing your blog (what on earth would I have ads for? pills for crazy moms? diaper rash cream? diet dr. pepper?), a bunch of other blah blah blah about finding your niche and being yourself (unless being yourself is boring) and the boxed lunch I purchased was quite tasty.

I know I'm not inspiring (unless you count inspiring people to not be like me). I'm not serious. I try to not be emotional and mushy because that kind of stuff is not my cup of tea. I try to find some kind of humor in all the puke, boogers and poop going on around here. If I don't, I'll cry. And that's not a good thing.

I watched Julie & Julia again on Saturday. It's a good movie. My favorite quote this time: "What do you think a blog is? It's me, me, me day after day!"

That's what I guess I'm trying to say with all this blabbering on and on. The blog is me. I don't think that's how it started out, but that's what it is. Me. My thoughts. My kids. My stresses. My favorite stuff. My least favorite stuff. My good stuff. My bad stuff. My everything (except for the poop, boogers and puke...that's all theirs).

Do with it what you will.

Source: plixi.com via Natalie on Pinterest