When I first began blogging I wanted to be honest about things. Motherhood was tough and I just came right out and said it. With my fourth baby I will say that motherhood is still tough but the loneliness and sleepless nights are nothing compared to how I feel now.
I always assumed that the older my kids grew the more heartaches I would have. I did not, however, foresee how short my patience would run, how overwhelmed I would feel, and how I would feel sucked dry by the end of the day. One of my children loves to chat, to be the center of attention, and to receive heaping amounts of physical affection throughout the day; I like silence and to not touch or be touched. It is very hard for me to fulfill this child's needs.
Every day I lose my temper. I say things I shouldn't. I ignore kids who want me because I really, really don't want to give any more of myself. Every day I can see how much my kids want my love and approval and at some point every day it is very hard to do that for them.
Recently someone commented that me and my blog are "dumb happy". I'm not 100% sure what that means, having never heard the expression before, but a Facebook survey amongst my friends says it means "slap happy". So I guess, at least to one person, I am obnoxiously happy - which is interesting to me because I do not feel that way or even view this blog that way.
I write how I speak. It may not be very polished and I may frequently end my sentences with prepositions, but I don't care. This is my voice; this is who I am.
But I no longer feel like I have to be super honest. I don't want my kids to grow up and have our misbehavior and every feeling of frustration directed at them documented on the internet. I love, love, love them and I don't want them to ever be embarrassed or hurt by what I type here. So maybe in the end I come off a little more positive (but I really don't think I do...). I also think there's great good in representing all the perks of the married life. Enough people in the world complain about their husbands, put down men, and laugh a little too hard at jokes about drinking hard liquor to get through a day at home with the kids. (Not that there aren't days when I really want a stiff drink.)
I started this blog to share adventures of with friends and family. Pictures of our cute kids, updates on the house renovation, funny anecdotes from our days would be posted for a smallish group of people who know and love us. But now there are a couple hundred people who check this blog on a regular basis and I don't know who they are. I like them (I like you.) and I love it when they comment and email me and share their lives with me, and so now I find myself writing for them, too. (Jordan on the West Coast, I often write and pray for you.)
For awhile I tried to make this blog something more important than it is. I thought I should try to grow my readership, write intelligent and insightful things, throw my two cents in along with all the other bloggers. But now I don't really care about those things. My pride got the better of me and I became tired trying to be more interesting than I am.
What am I even saying here?! Heck if I know. I guess... just know that
I'm sorry I don't post more often,
I hope you like the dumb songs I post every Friday,
thanks for coming along for the ride,
I hope I really am not obnoxious,
there's nothing wrong with being happy,
this blog isn't important,
honesty is important but so is respecting my family's privacy and showing the good,
I'm probably going to only post 1, 2, or 3 times a week and never on a regular basis except for 7 quick takes,
can you tell that I'm postpartum?
I call this "baby brain".
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