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.
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!!!!
It’s amazing I don’t have more friends.