So for 253 days I blogged every day – okay every day but four. And then Monday, Monday I went to bed at 8pm, and then again on Tuesday, and then it had been two days of skipping school work, so Wednesday I was grading, and Thursday I had my first board meeting for MotherWoman, and Friday we went shopping, and then it was today, and it had been nearly a week since I had written. And it’s not that I don’t have anything to write, it’s just it’s all muddled. Politics, and mommying, and family stuff, and valley stuff, and working versus staying home, and thoughts about my pre-frontal cortex, it’s all wrapped up in a semi-neurotic tangle of words and sentences and half done paragraphs.
I have a line about my gramma, and a paragraph at being a work out of the home mama, and how that is only possible, because I have the most amazing co-parenting dad around, who happens to be my husband. I have an acronym about my pre-frontal cortex, and three syllables about MotherWoman. And oh politics, I could give you seven pages, but I’ve found that bat-shit crazy just about covers it all.
When I started out committing to write every day -it was partly a challenge and partly an exercise in sanity. And while it would be great to get to 365, and hell, I didn’t think I would get to 30, I’ve been thinking more about what I want this spot to be, and I don’t want to write just to get something on the page. Further, I don’t want to resent this space, or even writing. So yah, I might have fewer posts, but perhaps not less to say.