What a Blog Ought to Be

I just picked up Becki's Book of Blog and read the last two pages. I started blogging in 2006 and at the end of the year I printed all of the entries out to keep as a journal with the intention of doing the same thing at the close of every year. I'm only 5 years behind now. ;-) But as I read the last page I was reminded how much FUN it used to be to blog! I didn't write about the dumb hum-drum things like which day I did laundry and all of that unimportant, boring stuff that's not worth remembering (like I blog about now)--I blogged about my KIDS and about the fun and crazy and embarrassing happenings of our lives. When I read through all of those little memories that seemed insignificant at the time I'm amazed at how much I enjoy remembering how life and my kids were at that particular time. They've gotten older, but they still make me laugh all the time over the dumbest little things--but I fail to blog about most of them! I've got to get back to it. THAT'S what I want to remember in years to come. Not laundry.

So as a sample of what a blog is really supposed to be like, let me submit a section of my entry from the last page of my 2006 blog, nearly five years ago:

The other day we were all sitting at the table and Joe was absentmindedly nibbling on his toast. He glanced down at it and was shocked at what he saw. "Hey, Mom! My toast looks like Virginia!!!" Strange thing for a 4 year old to say. Stranger yet: he was right--his toast was in the perfect shape of Virginia. Strangest of all: he knew it. Katie wasn't to be outdone, so she began nibbling away at her own toast. "Look, Mom! I made Tennessee!" Did a pretty good job of it, too. Forming states out of their food has been a regular mealtime activity since that day. It got me to wondering if other children out there spend the lunch hour whittling away with their teeth in an attempt to create the shape of Texas out of their sandwiches. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "Texas toast," hu?! (Ba-dum-bum-ching! Sorry, couldn't pass that one up!)

The kids helped me make cinnamon rolls a few days ago. Whoever said that letting your kids help with such things will save you time in the long run (because they'll learn helpful skills earlier on, blah, blah, blah) was out of their gourd. I do my best to include the kids in things like this, but I must confess that it's often because I know I should include them, not because I want to. While I was rolling out the dough Katie started saying, "Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" and running in circles to an unknown destination. She finally found what she was looking for: the napkins. She had to sneeze and knew that if she sneezed into her hands I would make her go wash them... for the 8th time. So she picked up the entire stack of napkins and sneezed into them, rather than just the top one. I was trying to not overreact to that when I turned around to see Joe running the rolling pin up and down his forehead. "JOE!!!! What are you doing?!?!?! Give me that rolling pin! I'll take care of that, you go wash up again..." That's when I noticed Sam, who had both fists full of my freshly rolled out dough. I was about to tell him to unhand the dough before I broke his precious little fingers when I saw Joe (on his way to wash up) step on one of the plastic placemats that had been dropped on the floor and *whoosh* his cowboy boot went straight up in the air in front of him and he landed flat on his back with a mighty thud. Mind you, all of this happened in the span of about 30 seconds. What had begun building as frustration in me suddenly came out in the form of teary laughter and I suddenly realized that, yes, indeed, it is absolutely more fun to make cinnamon rolls with the kids than without them. It is NOT easier. But it is certainly more fun. And that makes it worth it all. And somehow, the cinnamon rolls turned out perfect!

Katie has had a particularly clumsy week, even for her. There was one day that seemed to be especially bad. She tripped over the same 4" step from the den into the living room numerous times, each incident ending with a long and lanky girl lying spread eagle in one room or the other. (We've lived here for 3 and a half years; you'd think at some point she'd learn to look out for her usual danger zones.) Same thing happened on the kitchen floor once that day, too--and there's no step there. She hurt her knee doing something or another and who knows what else. Then she and Joe were playing in the utility room (don't ask--I don't know why) and I heard a bad scream. Katie screams frequently and I've learned to judge the differences in tone and pitch pretty well. There's the "Hey, you took my toy" scream. Then there's the, "Ouch, I just did something painful" scream. There's the "I'm just crabby and need a good spankin' and maybe a nap, too" scream. And so on. The scream I heard in this particular incident was an "I'm REALLY hurting this time" scream. I could tell it was the real deal and was going to check on her when she suddenly came flying through the room--I mean right through, and kept on going--wailing all the way. She made another appearance and departure before I could even get my first words out. She continued her running and jumping and screaming and pretty soon I had joined in on the screaming part: "KATIE!!! Come in here and tell me--or at least show me!--what is wrong!!!!" "I ca-a-a-a-a-a-a-an't!" said the blur as it passed once more. I kept yelling at her to come to me and she just kept sailing through the room at warp speed saying "I can't!!!! It hu-u-u-u-u-u-u-urts!!!!!," her voice trailing behind her speeding body. I began to wonder if something might be broken or perhaps even severed--though obviously not a leg. It seemed like a long time (although it retrospect it was probably 20 seconds or less) until she was finally able to come to me and show me the fingers that had been smashed in the hinge side of a closing door. (No serious injuries, in case you're wondering.) The whole ordeal was frustrating, a little frightening to begin with, and all-in-all quite fascinating. I just kept wondering... What must it be like to have absolutely no control whatsoever over one's own body? I don't think I've ever experienced that before. Is it something that training can cure?! If so, how do you set up that training session??? I would really like to be able to help this child out, but there are so many times when I find myself shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders. I don't have a clue what to do with her! Help???

Then there's Sam. I was making lunch the other day and turned around to find him down on his hands and knees, licking the kitchen floor. "Sam!!!" I said, "What are you doing?!?!?" His expression showed a little confusion and a twinge of annoyance as he replied, "I spilled my juice." He was looking at me like I was some kind of a freak for asking such a dumb question--wasn't it obvious?!

*sigh* So the big question of the day is... WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?!?!? I'm raising a bunch of little hoodlums who seem to think I'm weird for not understanding when they lose any and all self-control of their own person--or lick their juice up off the floor. ?! I'm doing the work--really! I'm not a slacker!!! I'm really, really, really trying to make decent human beings out of these kids, but I think they're about to whip me. They probably have secret meetings during nap time, planning their next strategic maneuver. "Okay, Joe--it's your turn. Maybe you should tie your bedsheet to the ceiling fan and..." All in an attempt to make Mama snap and end up in the loony bin so they can have free reign of the house.

It's late and I'm bushed. All the more after recounting the events of the past few days. I think I'm going to bed. Right after I go check on those little angels of mine... and make sure they're securely hand-cuffed to their beds until morning! HA!

See? Wasn't that so much more fun than, "I did laundry today... cooked soup... scrubbed a floor... blah, blah, blah..." I've tried a few times to amend my poor blogging habits, but have failed to ever get back to the JOY of blogging and creative writing. I did pull out a McManus book last night though, Mom, so maybe that will get my creative juices flowing and help me out. ;-)