I've been thinking about this, rambling it to my husband and finally decided to type it here.
(That's okay, right?)
I don't totally understand blogging.
I mean, I get it, I know why I do it, but the blogging culture is still somewhat mysterious to me. Am I like... a blogger? Or just someone with a blog?
(Okay, two blogs. And a twitter account. And facebook. And I swear I spend my entire day taking care of my kids and only do this at night. Though yes, I maybe carry my iPod touch around the house and refresh twitter and obsessively check my email while doing the otherwise all-consuming childcare, because really, without this little online social life I would probably just lie facedown on the floor and cry from time to time.)
I started this blog to write about the stuff I found too dorky and unrelated to my babies to put on my other blog. My other blog is password protected and full of baby pictures and a small circle of girl friends read it and that's that. Or that was that for two years, and then my grandma started reading it too and my self-deprecating anxiety over posting random thoughts on breastfeeding and coffee tables reached all-time high levels and forced me to start this new blog.
When I started this blog a few months ago I thought I would only post about the many beautiful things I found online. A way to keep my bookmarks uncluttered. This way, I rationalized, I could fantasize about well designed items without actually spending money.
Then some funny things happened. One, I forced myself to stop looking at design blogs and instead accept my house the way it is for awhile. And two, I started getting a few readers.
Now this blog is a free for all of random things (though I will still spare you the updates from the pediatrician) and I don't know what I'm doing or how to do it or if I'm doing it right, I just know I'm doing it. And it's fun. And I have already, in my short amount of time in the public blog world made some connections with really cool ladies. Ladies whose blogs I had never read or seen or laughed at until I opened myself up to try. So I think I'll keep on, even if I'm clueless. And if you're reading this and don't usually comment I would love to hear from you. I want to read your blog, too.
Also, I think I may have accidentally made it seem that I think 25 is "old" when it is so NOT old (I actually have some insecurity over feeling too young most of the time) and I hope I didn't offend anyone. The point of that post was that this little 20 year old boy plainly thought I was old when doesn't he know I feel like I just graduated from high school? This is unrelated but after much effort could not work it in any other way and wanted to be sure I said it.
(Yes that had been stressing me out since I published that post.)
Also, I think I may overuse parenthesis.
(I'll work on it.)