When I first starting writing this little blog just over two months ago, I thought it would be somewhat easy. I knew that it would be difficult to balance writing regularly with being a mum to my two little ones, keeping the house from looking like it had been hit by a nuclear weapon and, of course, teaching full time. But, I thought that the writing side of it would come easy. You see, I have always wanted to write. Every couple of years or so, I have a little whizz of brainwave and a (probably crap) idea for a story pops into my head which makes me decide to have a go at writing because apparently 'everyone has one book in them' or so I have read, or most likely heard from one of my hundreds of American box sets I regularly watch. So, off I trot to my laptop, write a few thousand words and then just discard it forever. Sometimes I return to the story, read it, cringe, weep at my utter drivel and dreadful grammar and leave it in the netherworld forever unfinished, forced to walk among a paperless limbo of unfinished novels. So that's why I thought writing a blog would be easy; a couple of short posts every week and it's done. Only it's not is it? You have to first of all think of something that will entertain others; my life is not interesting and most certainly not entertaining, unless you think that simultaneously answering questions about Andy's Dinosaur Adventures, weaning and completing on line surveys in order to get Amazon vouchers is entertaining. It isn't. Especially when you get Ella's Kitchen gloop stuck in between your lap top keys (the 'space bar' now has to be hit down rather than just being tapped down). You then have to think of something that no one else has written about, which is beyond impossible - especially when one in two of you guys are proud owners of a hissy fit throwing three year old girl and a Ninja Flippin' Dude who just won't sleep. I personally then have to think or something that won't offend others as it would upset me to learn that I had offended or upset anyone in any way. (I am a bit of a softy and a complete wimp, so the idea of any confrontation makes me vom a little bit in my mouth.) Although, in saying this all this, I have to admit that my first few posts did come really easily. I just thought that I would take the piss out of myself a bit and write about how I am sometimes a rubbish mum. About how I am a mum who turns up late to everything, a mum who can't be bothered with baby classes and baby sensory thingymajigs (totally a word - I am a half arsed novelist after all) a mum who probably leaves her son in his Jumparoo for a little too long, a mum who buys her cake mixes ready made, a mum who watches kids' TV with her children too much and a mum who generally lacks any kind creative bone in her body. But then I opened myself up to this little blogging community...
Just a few of my current American Box Sets (Hannibal, Vampire Diaries, Wayward Pines and Game of Thrones are recorded on the next page... Peppa is never far from the screen though.
|Using my one creative bone.|
Initially, I thought I was being dead unique and had found my little blogging niche by being a teacher and a mum. But, guess what? There's bloody loads of teachers who are parents, doctors who are parents, midwives who are parents and so on and so forth and you all write these amazing and insightful posts about juggling work with parenting, dealing with post natal depression, coping after a miscarriage and a whole plethora of other issues that these lives of ours throw at us. And I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I wrote about going to the tip, embarrassed that I dedicated a whole blog post about going to the dentist or going for a walk to a sandwich shop. Whatever your niches are, you all appear to have this parenting malarkey, working full time and blogging regularly thing down and I really don't know how you do it. You have my utter most respect. I know that's not something important but here, have it - it's yours for the taking.
He may have been in his Jumparoo at little too long at this point.