So, I am trying to be more consistent with this blogging thing. I think I’ve said that probably 50 or so times so far in this blog. Also, I need to redesign the look with new pictures, new… Stuff? I don’t know. Links and whatnot? I want it to just automatically reflect me but I don’t want to have to actually do the work. It’s one of those things that wears me out just thinking about it. I can be fully of energy, looking for a project to tackle, start to browse through blog layouts and…. BOOM. WALL. NAP TIME.
Things that keep me up at night (or wake me up at night, as I can crash out like nobody’s business these days) include, but are definitely not limited to:
- My need to revamp my blog;
- The fact that I don’t understand or really want to understand tags and classifications for posts on my blog;
- How much I hate titling things;
- The potential that #2 is keeping me from being a world famous blogger (I don’t think that’s even a thing);
- How I’m potentially screwing up my kids by writing about them here and on Facebook and on Instagram and sharing every ADORABLE, yet potentially embarrassing moment;
- How I’m potentially screwing up my dogs and cats by not posting about them enough. I think they can sense it, even if they can’t read;
- The reality that I am probably screwing up the dogs more by not spending my time walking them rather than worrying about their sense of social media importance, and lastly
- What if Ben runs for office larger than City Council and someone actually reads all the ridiculousness I write? Hmm. He’s a Democrat, so that’s not likely, but hmm.
Obviously this is only the blog related category and the actual list is about a mile and a half long, but you get my drift. Maybe there’s someone I could pay to fix up my blog, categorize everything, and filter everything I write and ALSO filter everything I SAY and everything I eat and buy and… Yeah, probably not.
I think I can fix my main worry (screwing up my kids) by ensuring that they are strong, secure ladies who own their super cute childhood and all the awkwardness I’m sure to share throughout their growing up. Is there a magic way to do that? Now that I think of it, that is pretty much my singular, double-edged parenting goal: Raising women who know their worth, own their past, are ready for their futures, and are also deeply humble about the things they have, treasure the people who love and support them… Yeah, impossible, but it’s what I’m shooting for.
This morning as I was bucking Nora into her car seat, I looked at her and told her how sweet she is and how much I adore her and how much I like her owl shirt. She looked at me and said, “Mom, I love you too, but you put this shirt on me!” I’m pretty sure that says something about life. Side note: She’s started calling me “mom” instead of “mommy” or “mama,” especially in public, and I do not care for it, not one bit, but I appreciate the strong show of independence it indicates. Double-edged swords all over the place.