Blogging. I have a lot of mixed feelings about the world of blogs. I love reading blogs as a means of keeping in contact with my friends who live all over the country. I love seeing pictures of their kids and adventures as we experience the joys of growing up and creating families. I love finding blogs that make me laugh and blogs that inspire me to create something or cook something I wouldn't have dared otherwise. I like having a blog of my own. I love receiving comments and it helps me keep a little record of day to day events because my once daily journal writing habits have dwindled into once-a-month journal entries at best. So yes...I do like blogs.
However, I think blogging has its own share of evils. The times I have felt the worst about myself in the last couple years (and I know I am not alone in this sentiment) is when I have spent time looking at other people's blogs and comparing my life to theirs. I have found myself comparing my home, my level of craftiness, my creativity, my photography skills, my body, my husband, my thriftiness, my ability to cook, and my spirituality with people I know and oftentimes people I don't know. I like doing a lot of things. I am kind of ok at a number of things, but being great at any one thing has eluded me my entire life. I have always wanted to be truly great at something, but often realized not too far into that quest that greatness requires a lot of passion and a lot of work. I have never found anything I am truly passionate, ready-to-commit-myself-100%-to-the-cause-passionate about. I acknowledge and fully accept responsibility for my decision to be merely mediocre at a few things, and I am happy with my decision...90% of the time. It is when looking at others' blogs that I feel my decision was a poor one. I feel a yearning and more than that, an obligation, to be great at something...if that were the case I could have a blog about my said 'passion' and that would be my 'thing'. But...I don't have a thing, unless that thing is being a mom.
I love being a mom. It is the first thing I feel truly great at (and I know I am really not that great at it, I just really like it) and the only thing in my life I can associate with the word passion.
My whole life I had a plan. I wanted to go to BYU, I wanted to serve a mission, I wanted to travel to Europe, I wanted to go to graduate school, I wanted to be an EFY counselor. The goal at the end of my list was to get married in the temple. There were goals that were made later that I subconsciously felt would add more to my list of accomplishments. I wanted to dance on a BYU ballroom dance team, I wanted to teach French at the MTC, and I wanted to run a marathon. All of these plans were great and helped me feel good about myself but the end-all goal was to get married. I had no plan after that happened. I knew I would have kids, but I think the idea of staying home with kids really scared me and so I preferred to not go there in my mind. I focused on the present and the near future and tackled each one of my goals one by one. Then I got married. Then I found out I was pregnant a few months after getting married and I got nervous. I had no plan. I had tacked off almost everything on my life plan and I was only 25. Now what was I supposed to do? Have a baby at 26 and just do that for forever? During my pregnancy, my life still had purpose. I was working on my graduate degree and teaching French. I felt important and secretly dreaded the day that I wouldn't feel important anymore. I couldn't fathom that being home all day with a baby could give me the same sense of accomplishment as being a student and a teacher.
Needless to say. I was shocked and very wrong. From the first moment I held my baby boy in my arms I knew that my life had just started even though up until that point I felt I was at the tail end of my life's ambitions. Every day after my baby's birth, life got better, brighter, more meaningful, and happier. I never knew a little person could bring so much joy. I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved my baby. And what is crazy is that I love him so much more today than I did that first time I held him in my arms almost two years ago. And what is even crazier is that when baby #2 came along a few months ago, my heart grew even more. I can't reconcile how my capacity to love continues to increase when I don't think it is possible. I love my two boys in a way that words can't describe. I stand in awe of my toddler who is kind and sensitive and brilliant and the happiest person I know. I watch my baby with delight as he smiles and laughs and interacts with the world. He is an angel and the perfect blessing to our growing family.
Being a mom is now my 'thing;. That helps me when I start to feel that I fall short because I am not a mom AND a crafty/cooking/fitness/thrifty/decorating/photography blogger. I am just a mom. I am a mom who likes to do a number of different things on the side (way on the side), but really I am just a mom. And I like that I am just a mom. That is why I am starting this blog. It is about me...my life as a mom and my life's journey starting now.
My husband thinks that most blogs are ridiculous and that they help silly women justify silly hobbies. Maybe that is all this blog is for me too...a way to justify myself and help me to feel better about my life...but so be it, right? I want to write...every day. I want to write not just about the funny things my kids do, but about me...the things I like to do, the things that occupy my thoughts throughout the day (in addition mom stuff), and my journey to finding happiness and confidence that isn't dependent on outside factors. I hope you enjoy the ride!
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