I'm not even sure why I logged on to blogger today. It's such a random occurence. I rarely get on the computer, except to pay bills (and that's only because the app on my phone doesn't work the same as the website).
I was going to go to lunch with my friend, and she cancelled, so suddenly, I have some time. So, instead of mopping the floor, tackling the 4 foot pile of ironing, or maybe getting out and doing some yard work, like I should be doing, I found my fingers typing in my blog address instead.
Ry Ry, bless her sweet little heart, is happily discussing life's mysteries with her angels, or maybe she's talking to Scooter, the dog, while she plays in the family room. I love LOVE this one year old stage. (Ry turned one last week--can you believe that?!) She is so happy and funny all the time. Of course, she's curious and gets into everything, and rips and tears and destroys. But, I don't care. She's pure sweetness. I'm so in love with that baby girl.
I supposed if excuses for not blogging were called for, I could blame some of it on Ry Ry. Babies do take up a mother's time. Even if they are perfect in every way, and sweet as could be and cute as a button, and all of that mushy gushy cliche stuff that all mothers think about their own babies. If blame is being passed around, I might as well lump my other three children in there. Yes, I still have them. I didn't trade them all in when I got Ry, even though I haven't mentioned them on here in a year. They are all growing up so fast. And since we moved into our car.....ok, not literally, but I feel like that's where we live these days. We eat in there, sometimes they even get dressed in the car. It seems like we're always driving from here to there and back again. What did I do with my time before now? Oh yeah, I blogged.
But, as I said recently in an email to my friend, DeNae, I have diagnosed myself as creatively comatose. I got nothing. No tunes floating around, or stupid lyrics that don't rhyme, no inspirational epiphanes about running (I still do that religiously, by the way).
And as entertaining as reading about my status as a soccer mom with the cutest baby ever may be to each of you, I haven't felt the need, desire, or inspiration to write about it.
incidentally, there were some dark days over the Summer. A lot of them, actually. But because I suddenly find myself needing privacy (weird, I know) and not wanting to air my dirty laundry all over the internet, I went to the grocery store one day, spent 99 cents and I bought myself a good ole fashioned notebook. Writing is such amazing therapy! And I've discovered that doing it on pen and paper, in a place where no one will ever read it, is much more cleansing than blogging it.
So, sorry, but if I even blog again, its all going to be fluff. I might even post pictures of my kids' birthdays this year. Who knows? Ok, honestly, I probably won't. Especially now with Instagram. Maybe I will start reading blogs again. maybe.....