Every 5 or 6 weeks I wonder, "Why the fuck am I blogging??"
I mean, it's a ridiculously self-serving thing. I'm writing all about me, my life, my thoughts, my anxieties, my whatever.
And who am I?? Some chick in Austin, TX who doesn't get out enough.
Whose real-life friends are all but ghosts, visiting her on occasional late nights when schedules allow, and, she thinks, maybe it's because she sucks?
Whose husband would probably rather she NOT write as much and as honestly as she does, but who recognizes it as a good, solid hobby for her to have anyway.
Whose neuroses are, surely, pretty damn boring to read day in and day out and probably also have the unwanted effect of causing readers to think, "Oh my GAWD, there she goes complaining AGAIN!"
A woman who is embarrassingly insecure, but steadfast in her belief she'll not be some day.
A woman who pours her heart out and then somehow manages to limp along in the following days, hoping someone responds, and cringes all the while at her neediness.
A woman who delights in her baby and who is becoming desperate for another one, but she'll never tell you that for fear of jinxing the whole damned thing.
A woman whose heart is in San Francisco and only wants the rest of her there.
Whose self-depreciation knows know bounds and, she believes, this makes her a little uncouth in good company.
And then I ask, "What do I want this blog to be??" Ideally, it'd be a place where other moms, and friends, could see the wizard behind my curtain. Maybe I seem put together and confident. Maybe I seem to know it all and have it under control. I'd like for this to be a place for honesty and support, for me and for others.
I also want it to be a source of information for new moms. I scoured the internet for information when Hollis was born and I got a lot of crap, but I also found a lot of great stuff, and I've tried to showcase it here in an organized and readable way. I'm not a money-making site, so I'm not trying to be super slick, but I do want it to have rhythm and rhyme, so to speak.
I'd like to become more vocal about my beliefs, but often find myself intimidated by the fierce debates I read elsewhere. I absolutely believe that women need about a thousand times more support breastfeeding. I don't believe formula is "just as good as breastmilk." I don't believe in hitting children. I don't believe in the "cry it out" method. I believe whole-heartedly in attachment parenting, and child-led weaning. I believe the feminists forgot to say that "women's work" is equal to "men's work."
I want to be like Annie of PhD in Parenting. Or a little more like Noble Savage, or Mom-101. Women and parents who write with grace, intelligence and who seem to be fearless in their momentum; their research is flawless. I feel my writings are so little sometimes, so not worthwhile.
And then... (because of course a post like this has an "and then" moment) something miraculous happens because of this blog.
Even though I complain and am confused and often write ridiculous things like about how my son ate his umbilical stump or how my husband gave me tulips once, or I'll be a real downer and write about my dad or losing Levi, people I've never met still read and they comment and they reach out and touch me.
Like Loukia of Loulou's Views who comments on all my posts and emails me when I've been incommunicado. Or Noelle of Baby in Broad who was the very first person to add me to her blogroll, and that little thing somehow made my freakin' day that a total stranger, someone trying to do virtually the same thing as me, thought my site was worth a nod. Or when Noble Savage, a blogger I really admire, tagged me in a meme - again, something so little and insignificant, but still made me think that maybe my blogging attempts really aren't going into a blackhole after all.
And, lastly, of course my real life friends, the ones who are ghosts by virtue of their locale, not their schedules, email me and call me and chat excitedly about my writings. They are so grateful to be able to see into my life and they think I'm so funny and insightful and Thank You for posting about the vaccination thing because I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but now I'm thinking about it in a whole new way!
They see likeness in my stories and theirs and they see solace in our shared experiences. As my friend just told me, "I feel like even though our situations aren't identical, we are still all going through the same things," and it makes her feel less alone in her own experience.
It's exhilarating and wonderful to hear and I feel pride in what I'm doing. Maybe I'll keep blogging after all... reaching even one friend, real or ethereal, is well worth the effort to continue stretching myself publicly. I'm an extrovert, I know this. I won't keep apologizing for this particular decadence. I'll just need to let it feed my soul. Because you can't overfeed your soul. Not even a little bit.