Writing. Or not.

I feel like I should write again. I’ve felt like this for a while, but it’s been such a struggle. I’ve got 8 half-finished posts sitting in my draft box. I have a whole list of excuses why I don’t/can’t/won’t, including but not limited to: the rise of Facebook, writers block, the loss and subsequent regaining of my sanity, not having enough time, having too much time, not liking my blogging platform, school, work, and ninjas.

When I started writing, I was chasing 5 kids all under the age of 5 around my basement 12 hours a day. I think blogging was cathartic, a way to express myself (I’ve always been better at spelling things out than at talking them out) and a way to feel like a grown up at the end of what was usually an incredibly long, exhausting, and screamy day. I wrote to keep it together. I wrote because thoughts and ideas just tumbled neatly out of my head into well-formed, insightful, and often funny posts. I wrote because it made me feel like a grown up, and it connected me with other grown ups. I wrote because there were some days that it was either that or cry. Now, the 5-under-5 crowd has been replaced by a bustling doctors office. I’ve gone from a stay-at-home suburban mom to a working urban(ish) mom whose kids are in school. My days are quieter and predictable. My use of the words “requisition” and “hyperlipidemia” have increased 87%, while my ability to quote Dora the Explorer is almost gone. I am ashamed to admit there are numerous times when the phone rings at work that I have to try very hard to supress the urge to sing “The phone, the phone is RING-ing. The phone, I’ll be right theeeerre.” (From the Wonder Pets – click here). And with the exception of one particularly angry phone call, my days are almost never screamy. The down side to this new-found order and sanity? Thoughts and ideas no longer just pop up, they have to be fished for, strung together, reworded, scratched out, and usually end up getting tossed aside all together. And yet as I fish-string-reword-scratch my way through this post, I realize how much I love writing. I see how much clarity the very act of writing gives me into my own throughs. I realize how much I need to write and how much I miss it. So here’s to more writing, whether it gets read or not. It helps me grow.

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