If I read one more blog post where a blogger I like suddenly interrupts regular programming to tell other bloggers they need to blog every day and interact in a certain way or spend exactly 41% of your online time on twitter blah blah blah OR ELSE YOU WILL BE FIRED FROM BLOGGING OR UNSUBSCRIBED FROM IN DROVES OR SOMETHING I will pull all of my hair out. I get that you are trying to be helpful, but it isn't helpful to me. It just stresses me out.
I am really really glad that many others seem to be able to write every single day because I love reading what you all have to say. I do. I read your posts on my iPod while I'm doing other things and I love them and laugh and smile and wish I had time to comment on them all.
I especially love my readers and wish I could leave you all super special comments that make you feel like you just got the biggest hug ever, every day. I REALLY wish it. I feel guilty that I am not able to do it. Not being able to do that all the time (or even more than once in a blue moon) is the thing I like the least about blogging. My readers and the comments you leave me? You matter to me. You make this worth doing. I want to make sure you know that.
(Example: I just spent a great deal of time thinking about Chocolate Girl and how she is running the mini-marathon in my town this weekend and how I hope she has a great experience but will probably not ever get to leave her a comment indicating that I am even aware of this information because instead I have to vacuum up the broken bath bomb Clark crumbled all over his room and the living room and my bed.)
My kids are three years old and 20 months old and soon I will have THREE kids ages three and under. Most mornings when I wake up, I pray and ask God to give me the energy to get everything necessary done. It's a blissful job, but it takes every second of my time and every ounce of my energy. (And a lot of prayers asking for said energy. Also, coffee.) I generally do not use the computer during the day. I just broke this rule and wrote the first half of this post while my kids took a bath. It ended with four clean towels soaking in the bathtub and water splashed all over my laptop. I am sure there are others that are able to balance a clean house and hot meals and writing and commenting every day, but I can't right now. My kids are too little. My house is too small. My belly is too big.
You will not see me rant very often because it is generally not my style and besides I like you all and don't want to piss you off, but please stop telling me how to blog or at least reconsider how you are wording your advice. It makes me (and I'm sure many of your readers) feel like huge jerks. If you only want to subscribe to bloggers who post every single day,then go ahead and unsubscribe from me right this second. THIS is how I blog. It's for the best. Trust me.
And you? You can blog HOWEVER YOU WANT. I am just glad you're doing it and I get to read what you have to say.
Okay, now let's all hug it out.
Now I will get my naked kids dressed and wash and dry the four soaking wet towels and make lunch and clean up from lunch and vacuum up the bath bomb and hopefully find Clark's missing shoes and chase the kids into the car so we can go to the grocery store where I will be given weird looks and lots of "wow you have your hands full comments" and both kids will probably decide to poop on the potty at the grocery store, because you know. I will get out of the store with a few groceries to get us through the weekend but will forget half of them and at least one thing purchased will be something different than what I thought it was when I put it in my cart. Like toothpaste with weird mouthwash beads. I may also discover I purchased something one of my kids put into the cart, like a $6 glitter ball. I will lift my 38 pound son and 30 pound daughter back into their carseats and get more comments about how I have my hands full from strangers who are watching. I will buckle the kids in and Clark will be mad about something and Alice will fall asleep. I'll try to do the elusive car-to-bed transfer but we all know that never works and instead she will just be grouchy for the rest of the day. I will put the groceries away and make dinner and then it will be the weekend, I suppose. TGIF or something. And they and this life are so so worth it. And I know all of you with kids know exactly what I mean.