I don’t really have any business blogging. For starters, I don’t actually have any spare moments in a day – ever. And it’s not even like this gig is pulling in any money for us. (Look, Ma! No ads!)
But I like it.
I am a communicator. And also, what I believe is referred to as an ‘over-sharer.’ (Also known as someone with frequent and severe diarrhea of the mouth. Yes, I aim to make you proud, Mom.)
Blogging suits me.
So at this point, I often find myself thinking about blog posts throughout the day. Despite what some of our friends believe, I don’t actually need you to say, “Blog it!” any time something more exciting than an ant pooping takes place.
Trust me, I am already there.
I have already started writing the blog post in my head before I can even untangle my static clingified underwear from the ankle of my jeans in the middle of the playground. Or while I am still in mid-sprint away from the cab driver that is screaming at me and calling me an effing bastard. (When retelling that particular story to my husband the most upsetting part for me was that apparently the cab driver thought I was a male. My husband comforted me by assuring me a language barrier was probably much more likely.)
The problem is that, as I mentioned, I don’t actually have any free time. I have to steal moments in order to write blog posts. Mostly moments stolen from what would be my REM sleep state.
(That is a joke, for any non-parents reading this. Parents don’t actually partake in REM sleep.)
Typically, when I write some beautiful, eloquent, hysterical, clever blog post in my head I am also driving, ellipticalling, diaper changing, or dish washing.
I am never in the vicinity of a computer.
So, I jot down a few notes in my phone to jog my memory enough to rewrite that exact same post later that night. Obviously. Because a lack of sleep makes you super good at memory jogging.
Here are a few ‘notes’ I found recently in my phone:
Preggo exercise hard. Me watching beef.
Fireman at Fairway
At gym, toddler tumbling having snacks and milk was like the walking dead zombies smelled and all and stumbling toward us. Hard to fend off!!!!
Mayo!!!!! $$$ Still alive
Soap dispenser. Preggo.
How he eats lunch…Tell a man each detail to do – think ahead, oil spill, but is amazing, helps with everything, not like Mitt Romney.
Pillows (whores)
I mean, clearly these gems will help me write blog posts that are every bit as amazing as the first time I wrote them in my head, right?
Are you as excited as I am to try to figure out what the heck the connection between soap dispensers and a preggo are?!? Yeah, don’t hold your breathe waiting for the blog post titled: Soap Dispensers.
I just truly have no idea where I was going with that one.
It’s a wonder that I am as good at Taboo as I am. I will Taboo clue ANYONE under the table, but it seems I can’t figure out how to write down coherent and useful reminders to myself about things already going on in my own head.
I also love to look back and see what aspects of a story truly excite me:
Fending off toddler zombies in search of milk!!!!
Mayo!!!!!
It’s amazing I don’t have more friends.
oh but you make me laugh so much. 🙂
Are you offering that as a consolation prize rather than being my friend?
I knew I should have left out the ‘Me watching beef.’ one. I’m not so good at selling myself…
I love you! That REM comment? Total truth. (They should honestly put something on the birth control box that warns you about not having REM sleep for the. rest. of. your. life.)
Also, I am making a coconut cream pie, driving it over to NYC in which we will then play Taboo.
Erin – Seriously, right? I used to tell myself that as soon as I didn’t have one child waking up crying or another waking up soaked in urine I could finally sleep through the night again. But at this point enough parents have told me that even past toddler age there is always one reason or another that you don’t get a good nights rest.
It sucks so bad.
And I am seriously going downstairs right now and waiting by the screen door for you. It is super cold here so please don’t make me wait long. Kthanks.
I think this post made me laugh more than any other….. loved it.
BTW, once they start to become independent you will not get any sleep either waiting for them to come home at night safely (Remember your adolescence?). However, there are a few years there, say, between 4 and 12, when you have a reprieve kind of like the Sargasso Sea.
Happy to hear about the few years of possible reprieve.
Must remember to look up that sea.
And yes, I remember my teenage years. After seeing how my payback I am already receiving from the boys in the ‘chatty department,’ I think I’m in trouble with ‘teenage karma.’ :/
[…] keep sitting down to write these past few weeks and ending up with nothing. I check my nonsensical gibberish in the notes section on my phone, think about funny or important things happening in the world, in New York or with my family. […]