Thoughts on Being a Horrible Blogger

Yes, I know. I'm a horrible, awful blogger.

I've been posting once a month, and not even on the day I committed to. And all those posts have been a smattering of pictures with brief and incomplete captions. Bad blogger, bad blogger.

I'm supposed to be filling this space with stories of our lives, nostalgia of days gone by, the now-stalgia of today, the occasional recipe, funny story, and parenting fail. Obviously, I have done none of that.

Despite my lackadaisical approach (read: LAZY) I haven't heard one complaint. That tells me one of two things. Either A) My dear readers internally sympathize with my feeling-frazzled-all-the-time-and-when-oh-when-will-I-get-all-my-ducks-in-a-row current status, or B) No one but me reads this little old thing anyway, thus no one has had anything to not read to complain about. Regardless of the answer, I need to write here for me. Yup, Me, Myself, and I need this outlet.

Writing has been a very good thing for me. It forces me to focus my thoughts enough to put out, and helps me filter the noise from the music. My mind has to go quiet and I have to sit down for a few minutes to get out what I'm thinking. It's a great way for me to relax, and not something I should shelve any longer. Writing on this blog has the added benefit of serving as a family history repository. I know that the trivial and trite right now will one day be the good stuff I miss, and I don't want to forget it.

So I've outlined out a plan. For the next couple of weeks I'll get caught up on our life events, then move on to Winco stories and hilarious conversations with my 5-year old, and hopefully keep the momentum going and write more regularly. (Seriously, in the few minutes I've been typing this post, I think I've actually been more relaxed than I have been in a long time. Writing truly is good for me.)