July is like the month of new beginnings to end all months of new beginnings for me. Both of my kids were born in July. We got our dog in July. And this blog was born in July -- four (!!!!) years ago. Many times I've thought I'd just scrap it, but then --- well, there are four years of musings, stories, rants and assorted nonsense collected here, and like any narcissist worth her (organic) salt, I'm kind of attached to them (even as they're simultaneously embarrassing to read). Even though I've lost more than half the readers I used to have, I continue to update this space every now and then (mostly when BlogHer tells me I have to, but I'm trying to do better than that).
So I'll be honest, since honesty is what we love best about mommy blogs --- I started this blog because I needed something to do, I wanted to improve my writing skills, and after being home alone with babies/toddlers/preschoolers for four years, I desperately needed some adult "voices." Plus, I thought there was a chance I might be a kind-of funny writer and maybe Woody Allen would discover me or something... (which hasn't happened, if you were wondering). But over time my situation changed (a few times) and the fact is, I don't find my life to be all that humorous anymore -- so I'm often short on things to write about. Though I did, for the first time this birthday, really struggle and feel sadness around my kids getting older and I do have more essays in me somewhere (I'm pretty sure).
I mean I still have comical moments, like the night J (now 8) and Little One (now 6 and as little as ever) explained to me why they don't believe in God or the devil (that devil thing is pure crazy talk evidently) but they do believe in Jesus. Or how J said his friend told him not to ask questions about the Buddha because it's bad luck (there's a kid after my own heart!). Or the day J announced out loud in the grocery store that I drink a lot of wine (to many people, though no one in particular), forcing me to decide, on the fly, if it's more pathetic to be seen by the general public as someone who drinks too much or someone who argues with her kid in the produce section about how much she doesn't drink. And then there's the day that Little One learned (while discussing chickens, of all things) that the difference between him and girls is a specific appendage (and lack thereof). Several hours later, he approached me at the dryer, narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously and in a semi-aggressive manner said, "Mama, show me that part of you where there would be a penis if you had one."
Bring them up right -- that's my motto.
But seriously, for the most part, my life today does not in any way resemble my life when I started this blog -- and I do think it's kind of cool that the evolution is documented and also that I have some great stories that I won't be able to forget. But what that means for the future, I'm just not sure. Rather than complain that my life is busy, I'm trying to be grateful that my life is abundant -- and when I have a little bit of time to enjoy my children, I haven't wanted to squander it creating stories about them, leaving myself doomed to only being able to appreciate life in retrospect.
Still, this is not a Dear John letter and I do appreciate so many of you who have stuck around through my blogging marathon stages as well as my private and public blog ambivalence syndrome. I'm still trying to figure out what I might do with this space going forward, but I suspect I'll be here in some capacity or another.