If you're wondering why I just got all hip-hop on you, I'm wondering the same thing myself.
It's just how I'm rolling tonight.
I've had a blog post rolling around in my head all weekend. It's started with this, "Blogging is so wickedly cool and weird at the same time and I wish everyone could understand it, even if they don't want to do it."
Ever since I birthed a little human, quit my job and started spending half of my life in a house without a dishwasher (aka spending a LOT of time in the kitchen), I've loved discovering the world of blogging.
Among all the other things it's given me, the list includes:
- connecting me with people, even on the days I never leave my house,
- introducing me to really fabulous people that I would probably never have connected with in real life,
- showing me perspectives on life that are drastically different from me but learning that is really REALLY is a good thing (most of the time).
But, sometimes, reading blogs has flaws. Among other things, that list includes:
- viewing super glossy, perfect photos that make me question if my house is actually a dry creek bed with its omnipresent crumbs,
- learning most people are wholly devoted to some thing worthwhile like HOME BIRTH! SUPER HEALTHY EATING! HOMESCHOOLING! BUYING LOCAL AND HANDMADE! while my only passions appear to be People magazine and gushing about how cute my child is.
And sometimes I feel like I don't fit in with blogging because I don't have a niche and, hello, I'm random.
I've been known to spend a morning slaving away on homemade muffins stuffed with whole wheat, wheat germ, almond butter and flaxseed meal. And then make a box of Kraft mac and cheese for lunch.
I totally support and believe in the huge benefits of breastfeeding but when my milk flipped me the peace sign and walked out after nine months, Madeline drank formula. Don't tell me that was wrong because it meant my child wasn't hungry anymore.
I love me some Etsy and the whimsy boutiques that dot my neighborhood but I don't buy much. Groceries, gas and bills keep insisting to have the money instead and my addiction to McDonald's diet Cokes in the styrofoam cups requires a steady budget line too.
I could flip through home magazines and click through design blogs all day long but I've hated the color of my dining room for four years. I still don't have any ideas on what to choose. (Help. Me. Please.)
But I won't stop blogging because out of all of these things, blogging has given me a voice. A writing voice I didn't know I had before.
Press releases didn't allow much room for a sarcastic tone and I've never had a place where I could write about laundry week, poop on the floor and Project Runway and have people say they can't wait to read more.
I guess the photos and stories on the world's most adorable child don't hurt either.