This post officially marks the end of NaBloPoMo. In a way I am relieved not to "have to" write every single day. I feel like I'm generally a pretty good blogger—I write frequently enough throughout the year and used to (in the days before Benjamin) write nearly every single day—but not being able to not write when I'm either "too tired" or "have nothing to say" was a bit of a challenge. I'm happy to have it off my plate so that I can take some time off blogging and focus on a few other things on my to-do list, such as:
1) Writing the Christmas poem
2) Finishing edits to my mom's dissertation
3) Getting Andrew through finals week (which includes a fair amount of editing)
4) Attacking some problem areas in the house
5) Preparing Christmas gifts
I only have so many hours in the day that aren't entirely eaten up by the demands of little ones that I can only get so many things done that require me to not be filling their needs. This month blogging took precedence Next month I expect that blogging will occasionally take a back seat while I do other things with my precious "my" time.
It's not that blogging is a burden, really, it's just that some nights I really should have just done the dishes and gone to bed instead of writing and then doing the dishes and going to bed. December is an especially busy month, though, which automatically increases the blogging burden.
I'm glad I do it, though.
My mom participated in NaBloPoMo this year by posting old entries from my sister's childhood journal (that my mom was keeping for her). It was fun to see what my mom was like then, as a mother, and what our family was like before I can remember it (or before I was even a part of it). My mom kept individual journals for all of us but as she was typing up my sister's journals there were holes—she would reference something about my other sister but not be sure what she was talking about...because that part of the story was in another journal...just little things like that.
She said multiple times that she wished she had just kept a journal for herself that included all the activities her children did—that way they'd still have all the memories but they would all be in one place.
And so I'm glad that I have the blog.
I always intended to make up a baby book for each of my children because I loved my baby book when I was a little girl but I simply haven't gotten around to it and, frankly, I'm not sure I ever will.
We do enjoy going through our blog archive, though, to see what we were up to when the girls were Benjamin's age, or what we did on Rachel's first Christmas, or to find stories of Andrew starting kitchen fires so that he doesn't tease me too badly about starting one of my own...just little things like that.
It's nice to have a record to look back on.
We're certainly planning on turning this blog into book format...yet another little thing I haven't gotten around to yet...but for now we have it saved in various digital formats (we have each post email to a remote email address in case I do something silly like...oh...delete the blog accidentally) and can enjoy it from the rocking chair in front of my computer. The girls seem about as interested in it as I was in my own baby book.
My blog has the added benefit of fulfilling my mom's retrospective wish: that her whole life be in one record, not fielded out between 2...then 4...then 5...then 6 separate books (her children came slowly, with two groups of two and then two lone stragglers). Truthfully, that's the way I think it should be—with all of us all together in one record—because we're all together now and any record I keep for my children is actually my record because they are such a big part of my life. They define who I am, give me purpose...and a whole lot of writing fodder.
1) Writing the Christmas poem
2) Finishing edits to my mom's dissertation
3) Getting Andrew through finals week (which includes a fair amount of editing)
4) Attacking some problem areas in the house
5) Preparing Christmas gifts
I only have so many hours in the day that aren't entirely eaten up by the demands of little ones that I can only get so many things done that require me to not be filling their needs. This month blogging took precedence Next month I expect that blogging will occasionally take a back seat while I do other things with my precious "my" time.
It's not that blogging is a burden, really, it's just that some nights I really should have just done the dishes and gone to bed instead of writing and then doing the dishes and going to bed. December is an especially busy month, though, which automatically increases the blogging burden.
I'm glad I do it, though.
My mom participated in NaBloPoMo this year by posting old entries from my sister's childhood journal (that my mom was keeping for her). It was fun to see what my mom was like then, as a mother, and what our family was like before I can remember it (or before I was even a part of it). My mom kept individual journals for all of us but as she was typing up my sister's journals there were holes—she would reference something about my other sister but not be sure what she was talking about...because that part of the story was in another journal...just little things like that.
She said multiple times that she wished she had just kept a journal for herself that included all the activities her children did—that way they'd still have all the memories but they would all be in one place.
And so I'm glad that I have the blog.
I always intended to make up a baby book for each of my children because I loved my baby book when I was a little girl but I simply haven't gotten around to it and, frankly, I'm not sure I ever will.
We do enjoy going through our blog archive, though, to see what we were up to when the girls were Benjamin's age, or what we did on Rachel's first Christmas, or to find stories of Andrew starting kitchen fires so that he doesn't tease me too badly about starting one of my own...just little things like that.
It's nice to have a record to look back on.
We're certainly planning on turning this blog into book format...yet another little thing I haven't gotten around to yet...but for now we have it saved in various digital formats (we have each post email to a remote email address in case I do something silly like...oh...delete the blog accidentally) and can enjoy it from the rocking chair in front of my computer. The girls seem about as interested in it as I was in my own baby book.
My blog has the added benefit of fulfilling my mom's retrospective wish: that her whole life be in one record, not fielded out between 2...then 4...then 5...then 6 separate books (her children came slowly, with two groups of two and then two lone stragglers). Truthfully, that's the way I think it should be—with all of us all together in one record—because we're all together now and any record I keep for my children is actually my record because they are such a big part of my life. They define who I am, give me purpose...and a whole lot of writing fodder.
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