I’ll be honest with you. I’m doing a blog because I want to pretend that my life is more interesting than it really is. I haven’t adopted 38 kids and I don’t live on a ranch with thousands of cows. I’m not a gourmet cook and I don’t have any pressing need to communicate with family and friends. Nope. No such noble reasons. Mine is a mundane existence. Husband, house, kids, chores… That I’m needed isn’t enough, I guess. I want to be recognized. Putting my life down on paper, or in cyberspace, will make it all worthwhile, right? Now thousands will flock to read my words. They will be inspired, challenged, entertained, and moved.
So now I’ve put it out there. I’m weak and needy and shallow. I’m bored. I’m a barefoot, lactating mother who shouts orders at her kids. I yammer on the phone with my friends, trying to rise above the minutia of my day. This blog is just one more effort. We’ll see if it works. If it doesn’t, I’ll quit.
There’s gotta be another good reason to write this blog, since I’m pretty certain the above reason will fail. Perhaps, by dissecting the daily minutia and turning it into printable entertainment, the little pieces of my life will gain beauty and interest. And my life will become more inspiring, challenging, entertaining, and moving. For me, anyway.
I could write in a private journal, if that was all I was after. With this, however, there is a sense of mystery and boldness. Someone out there might find my life entertaining. So, this blog is for you, even though it’s really for me (this is turning into a vicious cycle). I’ll write to entertain you, dear reader, to force myself to notice my life more, to make my pathetic life feel a bit less pathetic (I’ll try not to lie and ham it up too much). And if nobody else reads it, I’m sure my mother will.