Like I said earlier, I've really needed some time to brainstorm and figure out how writing is still going to fit into my life. A good friend and fellow blogger (
Alida Makes) told me that I should just be raw and real. Something I learned about myself during my spring bible study was that I'm extremely transparent. If you've been a long-time reader, you probably already know that. I'm an open book. I'm honest. I write like I talk. Maybe it's all an over share, but that's how I roll.
A Little Bit of This really is what it implies. It's bits and pieces of my life, spewed out for your entertainment. I guess my hope is that someone, somewhere, will be able to relate. Relate to my love of style, my mommy yoga pants, my moments that I want to pull my hair out, my disappearing act, my desire to eat healthily and then go get a pizza from Little Caesar's... Catch my drift? I'm all over the map. There's no way that in this particular season of life, I could possibly blog about one genre of stuff.
And that's where I've gotten messed up. I came to a halt. I was used to writing about my clothes and taking daily outfit photos. When that was no longer feasible for me, I got really lost and thought, "No one will read what I have to share, now." And yeah, I got to the point where I was writing for an audience more than I was writing for myself. I got to the point where I prayed that sponsors would email me so that I could contribute a
tiny little bit to our household income. I
never wanted it to be like that. Blogging isn't fun when you're doing it for everyone else. And yeah, sure I'd love for it to be my job and to get paid for it. Who doesn't want to get paid for something they love to do? But also, when I have two babies that are growing like weeds, faster than a speeding bullet, the only deadline I want is bedtime. Life is moving too quickly for me to miss a moment because I have to "insert link here" by 2pm on X day.
Ya heard?
And to the mamas who can juggle it all, KUDOS to you. I cannot. I can barely handle what I've got and that comes with a wreck of a house and piles of dirty laundry. Trust me, I used to love cleaning, but if I could afford a housekeeper, I'd be ALL over that. Also, I need to invent homeland security contraptions for sleeping kids. I swear to you, I hear kids crying when they're not. Especially when I'm in the shower. I need something to be like, "Your baby is actually, for real, legitimately crying. You SHOULD jump out of the shower, sopping wet, bubbles all over your nethers, with conditioner in your hair. There is no time to grab a towel." Because I do that ish all.the.time, just to run to a sleeping baby or a preschooler who's like, "I dropped my poodle (her lovey) in the pack 'n play and I can't reach it." I'm not joking. Two showers in a row this has happened, accompanied by blood curdling screaming. And I'm in the shower thinking, "Surely, someone has broken into my house and my dogs slept right through it."
No. Poodle took a purposeful nose dive into the unreachable volcano of the pack 'n play and cannot possibly wait three more minutes or he will SURELY die.
Don't pretend like you didn't want to see a sweaty close-up.
Also, I signed up for a 5K on June 22, totally not realizing that June 22 is one month from today. ONE MONTH. Oops. I ran tonight. I didn't die. And I was alone. So alone. And it was really good.