I got so excited about the idea of starting a blog, and then what happens? I write three entries and vanish. Bad, bad blogger. But this mothering thing is hard, and lots of sleep deprivation, and blah blah ... I'm procrastinating. I have high standards for my writing, and I'm out of practice, and also possibly overwhelmed by all the changes in my life, and also not wanting to write exactly what everyone else writes. I want to have something beautiful and wise and interesting to say, and I come up blank while I'm fighting off sleep or cleaning up after diaper blowouts or trying to convince my now 11-month-old (!) to eat vegetables.
I cannot believe my little baby is going to be one year old in a few weeks. Excuse me while I blink back a deluge.
I haven't promoted this blog or even told my closest friends or family how to find it, so I'm not sure anyone has even noticed whether I'm posting to it. I didn't want to tell people until I knew what the heck I was doing with it, or how personal I wanted to get. I'm such a good little procrastinator. Really.
I do have Important Things to Say about motherhood ... maybe. Or maybe just about my experience of it. But because of the aforementioned high standards, I don't say them. If I can't say them with the poetic flair of some of my favorite writers, I'll just stay silent. I'm a chicken.
But hey, I posted something today. That's progress.
And with that, I'm going to watch "Downton Abbey" and let myself breathe after my not-so-little baby's bedtime.
I'll stop procrastinating tomorrow.
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