It just cements my argument that we live amongst a nation of idiots. I'm quite certain I'm not the worst, but my extended absences make for a pretty good case against me.
Let's just pretend I'm actually trying to win the worst blogger in history award. I gotta say guys I'm doing a pretty damn fine job of it. I may just win this thing. And I can't say I won't be all that disappointed. I mean, it is an award. And I've never actually won anything in my life. And I hear that maybe winners have to wear tiaras during their year long reign as Worst Blogger? What? No? Maybe I made that last thing up.
In reality I'm just like any other mom. I really do love writing. It's my passion and when I'm away from her, I feel lost. She's my favorite mistress. But my ever present mom guilt keeps me from her 99% of the time. If I'm writing, I'm not spending time with my son and husband. I'm not tending to my family's needs. I'm neglecting some other portion of my life that outweighs my own desires.
So, my mistress gets tossed aside. Left to be forgotten amongst the millions of other words on the internet. Pushed down in the dark corners of my brain filed with the rest of my pre-motherhood life. Tucked somewhere between weekend trips with the girls and sleeping in on Saturdays.
She always pulls me back though. I always promise her this time it'll be different. This time I'll spend more time with you. This time I'll pick you first.
But we both know that isn't the truth. My son will wake up from his nap. My laundry basket will fill up again. My body will win the fight to sleep. And she will be left alone again. Half written and half forgotten.
I'm not unusual in that regard. Most of the mothers I know rarely take time for themselves. We are our families' backbone. We run this bitch and if mama ain't around this entire world we've worked so hard to build and maintain goes to shit.
Well, at least, that's what we all think will happen.
During the rare times I've actually made a concerted effort to take me time, to my utter horror all hell has not broken loose. My child has not been severely traumatized. My house has not been irrevocably destroyed. And my world which I spend so many hours of planning and worry and manpower to ensure is in perfect working order is still as I left it. Horrifying, I know.
Yes, we moms, are the backbone of our family. We are superheroes smeared in baby poop. We are our family's CEOs. We are constant crisis negotiators. We are skilled event planners. We're janitors. We're personal chefs. We're nurses. We're pretend pirates and princesses. We're counselors. We're teachers. We're all these things at the same time.
And yet we're still human. We're still women. We still need to refresh our spirits, remember our own needs and make ourselves a priority.
So, here I am today trying to follow my own advice. Trying to get back to me.
So maybe I won't win mom of the year, but bet you I won't win worst blogger of the year either.