maybe i don’t have to say anything brilliant

I’ve been trying to figure out why I am not a blogger. I am a writer, after all – you’d think blogging would fit me. But instead I never seem to get around to it. I’ve started to think that (like in many other things), I expect too much of myself. If I don’t have something brilliant to say, if a thought is half-finished, I don’t say anything at all and my blog languishes for months.

But I am a writer. I don’t mean that I write for a living, or even that I am particularly good at it. What I mean is that I have to write things down in order to live them, process them, remember them. I used to do this by writing long long emails to friends. But with the advent of blogs it seems that emails are almost as archaic as the hand-written letter.

I also used to journal. I still do this some, in the form of morning pages. This is easier because a) they are private and b) as free-writing exercises I don’t expect them to be brilliant. They are a way to get the shit out. Even then, I don’t write them every day like I want to.

Anyway, so here I am, not being brilliant. But I’m here. And I’ve decided that perhaps blogging, like other things in life, is more about the showing up than about the being perfect. I want to blog because I want to share who I am with the world and as a mom who is attempting to run one business and start another, I don’t have a lot of time for that.

So. Tuesday I cleaned up blood and poop and a puddle of pee. (Did I mention I’m the mom of a toddler?) That night my toddler was awake from roughly midnight until almost 3 am. Then he slept for an hour before being up again. Then we spent the morning at a playground with a bunch of other moms and toddlers. It was fun, but I came home feeling like I’d been run over by a truck. (Thankfully I napped with said toddler and felt better after that.) Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding on. Too much crazy, not enough sleep. But I can’t just survive this part of life, or I’m going to wake up in six or ten years when I’m done having babies and toddlers and realize that I’ve forgotten who I am.

So I’m trying to live, not just survive, and definitely not forget. So I keep coming back to blogging as a form of writing, processing, living, sharing. Expect to see more on these pages, but don’t expect it to be brilliant.

I haven’t had enough sleep for brilliant.