Obviously, from the title of this website, you know I’m a mom. I’m a mom of two little girls, in fact. But long before I was a mom-in a time which I now in hindsight refer to as the “take everything for granted years”- Before my days were filled with all tasks relating to keeping small humans alive (and trying not to psychologically or physical ruin them), I had all the extra time in the world to immerse myself in good books. I escaped into novels- romance, mystery, historical, almost anything- to give myself a break from my monotonous life of working and then being free to do whatever the hell else I wanted whenever I wanted to do it. Go sit at a coffee shop and read in a cozy corner? Yep. Spontaneously make plans to go do something fabulous and fun with my equally responsibility-free friends? Totally. Take weekly hot yoga and kick-boxing classes for ‘stress relief’? Check. Or sometimes just plop down on the couch and watch mindless television, uninterrupted? pssh, everyday. What an ass hole.
Okay, I wasn’t an ass hole, I was just living my pretty great (most of the time) life blissfully unaware of what a much smaller amount of that “me time” I’d have in the not-so-distant future. Like a much smaller amount….like a fraction of a fraction of it.
Don’t get me wrong,I of course love my kids and would never change having had them ever…but this shit is HARD. Some days are great, but some days I just want to have a frustration-fueled meltdown and down some boxed wine. A lot of the days…all the wines. Sometimes the temporary solution to life’s problems is housed in a plastic bag of vino that’s housed in a square cardboard box. Or in glass, I drink out of bottles too, there’s no discrimination here.
So anyway there I was, going along trying to work and raise my two kids under three and all that comes along with that, realizing that despite my attempts at holding onto the things I was once passionate about in life, they’d all but disappeared. I still read though, I never stopped reading, I just read less efficiently. Then one day I thought, you know what…I want to write a book. No, I NEED to write a book. Yes, I’m going to write a novel! Oh, sweet, idealistic, impulsively motivated me…bless your heart.
I actually did start writing a novel back then. Two and a half years ago. I wrote down (and continue to write down) my almost constant stream of story ideas as they came, and stole a few hours here and there when I could get the time away to write. Fast forward to today. I have pages of different story ideas (unrelated to the story I had started writing) that I think were pretty great. I do not have a novel. Or even a good portion of a novel. Oh, I forgot to mention I also suffer from chronic, borderline crippling procrastination. I’ll talk more about that later…probably. If I remember.
That brings me to why I decided to start this blog. Renewal of motivation, maybe some accountability, and some good old fashioned catharsis. A place to share with other like-minded people, or people with totally different minds than mine who just might get it too.
So, this is my blog. My blog reviewing the awesome books I read that give me the feels. My blog to talk about my attempts to reclaim the “me” that has fallen by the wayside over the years. The “me” who is still damn determined to write my novel, despite the pile-ups of life that get in my way. This is also a blog for the “me” who just needs an outlet for the crazy shit life throws out. If I can’t look at it all in a humorous way every so often, well, I’ll probably end up being one of those “crazy shits” being thrown into the lives of my family members and friends. So help my family and friends, read my blog.