Let’s be honest. I think about blogging a lot, more than is probably normal. I find myself composing as I fold laundry or drive the car. I jot down ideas on scratch paper and have a slew of drafts that I’ve lost interest in or never deemed publish-worthy. To be fair though I’ve been composing in my head for years now, even before the blog. I blame this on all the years I’ve dedicated to trying to become a writer. Amidst the editing, deleting, and publishing I sometimes pause and ask myself, “What is my purpose in doing this?” and honestly, I still haven’t come up with a solid answer – at least not a singular solid answer.
Sometimes I’m jealous of other blogs, whether inspiring or irritating, for having a solid theme or designated purpose: crafts, politics, fashion, literary, journal, business driven, mommy blog, whatever. Maybe it’s because we have two very different writers on this blog or maybe it’s because we’re “well-rounded” or maybe we’re simply weird, but I have a hard time pigeonholing our writings into any one category. Sometimes I like that I can’t quite put a label on the sum of our writings, but other times this lack of cohesion and perhaps identity bothers me. At times like this, I don’t write. I just puzzle and mull. I’ll draft about how I sometimes want to punch out moms that complain about how their three-month-olds don’t sleep through the night, but delete it because I can’t see anything productive coming out of being a hater. Then I’ll move onto a post about a recent craft I did, but drop it because it seems boring and braggy. The literary posts get neglected because they take so much effort and rarely get much attention and a bunch of other random posts get shot down for being potentially offensive, too preachy, or plain old boring.
Generally, I’ll end up with a post about Cooper because it’s safe. It will at least please the family and doesn’t take as much creativity on my part. Plus, these posts always get a plethora of comments, which surely doesn’t hurt my confidence. Still, every time I end up here I pause with my cursor over the publish icon, wondering if this really is just “one of those mommy blogs.” Maybe it is, it’s hard for me to tell. Is that bad? Also hard to tell. Ugh. And on comes another dry spell on the blog as I retreat back to the comfort of my journal (Yes, I’m old school like that.) where I can write and write and not worry about what anyone thinks.
As a reader I hope that the hodgepodge of topics isn’t too much of a turn-off. I guess that’s just how we are: a crazy mixture of ideas, feelings, and purposes. I hope you can also excuse the fact that as a writer I am sometimes a hot mess. Now do you see why I’m not on Facebook? That’s just more stress than I think I could handle.