A while back, when I started this parenting gig, I had some sharp edges and I broke easily. I’ve mostly survived the trials and tribulations (and there have been many) and in the process, quite a bit of my fur (and many of my idealistic tendencies) have rubbed off.
I’ve attempted the blogging schtick on and off over these years. It never felt genuine to me… never felt real. I was trying too hard to be perfect, to be like all the other mama bloggers whose shiny fur is so well groomed, while in reality I was licking the bald spots where my fur had been loved off, trying to find where I fit in. I got the impression that no one wanted to hear about the hard parts of the mama thing, the parts where you create your own bald spots by pulling your hair out, where you question why you ever got into this predicament to begin with, and fantasize about getting 5 minutes alone in the bathroom without interruption. Who talks about that? I needed to read about it, to talk about it. We NEED to talk about it, to hear about it, to know we’re not crazy and, most importantly, not alone on what feels like an island so often.
And that is why I wanted to start this blog. To write what I need to write and hopefully what other mamas (and papas) need to read. If you don’t mind my shabbiness, bald spots and loose joints, I don’t mind yours because we can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.
(A real live bunny hopping around on the front lawn at my honey’s grandmother’s house)