I haven’t shared my blogging with anyone except for my husband. With all of my postpartum issues, my husband thought it would be therapeutic for me to do so. What a great way to unload without being constantly negative towards him or the kids. I think I briefly mentioned it to my friend or sister in a drunken haze, but it was more by accident than asking for approval. In any case, I have often thought about sharing the fact that I blog with others, but I wonder how it will be perceived.
Throughout my entire life, I always felt like I had to “measure up” to something. Most of the time, it was self-induced and to my older sisters. Beautiful and smart, both sisters went on to become successful in the science field. One is helping to cure cancer. The other is a salesperson for home improvement stores where her chemical engineering background has been a huge asset to her selling. In our schooling, I came four years after them, but the teachers still remembered them (holy pressure). Our parents never made me feel like I had to do anything; do your best and we’ll be happy was their motto. And although I know we’d like to say, yeah yeah yeah, whatever, how is that true? I really felt it was. So I felt like I had to pave my own way.
I always liked to write. Most of the time when I was younger, it was sappy stories that I made up and shared with my family. I loved writing things in my diary, and looking back at the times that were (I still have my diaries, and look back with a chuckle at them). I could always put perspective on paper, including major assignments for high school and college, and then onto graduate school and post-graduate. I don’t have to write grants or other formal pieces for my job, but I feel like when I am required to do something that requires a more formal piece, I’d like to think that I am able to put my words into an eloquent and smart manner. I knew that writing wouldn’t come easily to me if I wanted to make a career out of it, but I loved writing so much I felt like it could be a side passion and enjoyable to just me. So enter the blog.
I like the format I chose, that I can share my mommyhood stories and feel like I am overcoming little victories as I discover new things along the way, such as 4 year olds still need their asses wiped. Sigh. I like being anonymous, and sharing my thoughts and feelings to people who have no clue what my background is, but somehow, respect me all the same. I am excited at the prospect of people following me and reading what I wrote. I still remember when I had my first follower! (Shout out to you, Crazy Grad Mama!) My husband almost fell off the couch I was so loud about it. I like helping people, and if my writing is anywhere near as therapeutic for others to read as it is for me to write, then I’ve completed my goal. I guess part of me also worries that I might offend someone I have blogged about. Many of my family and friends are non-judgmental types, and I don’t think I put too much on any one person when I blog. I leave out names and specifics, but give enough for the gist of what is necessary to make my point. I don’t write things maliciously, it’s so I can learn from mistakes, efforts and victories made by myself as well as others. I’d like to think that anyone who reads my words would be able to do so with an open mind, but I know that I can’t promise it would.
So for now, it will remain an anonymous blog site. I will continue to look at others who have similar ideas and posts as myself, and learn more about mommyhood than I ever thought possible. I am sure some of it my mommy brain will ultimately forget, so maybe that’s another benefit of a blog? Memories of what was but I can no longer remember due to sleepless nights, screaming kids or too much wine to numb either of those two? I’ll take it.