I started this post a few days ago, when I was in a mood created mostly by what was happening in my world (anyone with children of any age – your own or ones you rent – can relate to this for sure). I felt that no one was listening to me. Mostly because, they weren’t. I spend my whole day with my kids. Kids are, by nature, very selfish little creatures. They do what they want, demand what they want, and if it is not provided post haste, they let you know how you’ve failed them in the loudest and most obvious of ways. I get that. It’s what they’re programmed to do until enough time, experience and grooming from parents and caregivers shows them that in fact, they are not the only people in the world.
Anyway, what I started out writing on Tuesday is not really what I’ll be posting today. That said, it’s been niggling at me, because there are some good points I was making (in my of course very humble opinion) in my “ranty” piece. So I’m going to take those points, and attempt to make a piece worth reading. Here goes:
People have been asking me why I started a blog. It’s a valid question, especially since it seems that everyone and their dog has one now (you know about dogbook, right?). My answer was generally things like, “To find my voice” or “To have a place to share the adult thoughts I would have through the day when I was surrounded by little people.” Sometimes I would say something like, “Well, in high school I had a teacher who once said of my writing: ‘Every time Michelle puts a pen to paper, a diamond is produced.’ It’s been a long time since I wrote anything other than a shopping list, and I wanted to see if I’ve still got it.”
If that question was asked of me today, I would answer it thusly: “So I know that someone, somewhere is listening to me.”
Writing this blog is a place for me to express silliness (like this, or like this even), my fears (like this, and this), my indignation (like this and this too), my sadness (like this), my gratitude (building it up, like here or expressing it freely like here) and really, just any emotion I am feeling at the moment. I appreciate you for reading what I write, because even if you don’t comment, I see that you were here via my stats page. If you do comment, I love it because I know that I’ve struck a chord – good or bad – with someone else, and we can have a discussion (if not an actual conversation) and I know for SURE then someone’s listening.
I guess really, I was only making one good point in the post I started out on Tuesday. That was this: I am so grateful for you, my reader! Thank you for taking a few minutes from your day to read – and sometimes engage in discussion with me – about what’s going on in my life. That simple, passive act on your part has given me immense comfort. I want you to know just how thankful I am for you.