Here it is, the first post on my "mommy blog". I never saw myself doing this. In fact, I dug my heels into the ground and resisted with all my might whenever it was suggested I do this. You see, even though I wrote a page long rant on why we're all good moms, I just don't see myself as the kind of mom who writes a blog about being a mom because those moms...well, they're GOOD moms. You know, moms who don't constantly slip up about the truth behind the Santa story in front of their kids. Moms who vacuum more than once a month, or ten minutes before guests, which ever comes first. Moms who don't bake cookies from a tube at 10pm with their 7-year-old. Moms who then take their from-scratch cookies to the bake sale table at the book fair, or whatever. I wouldn't know because I'm also not the mom who frequents book fairs. In this house, if you can't find that book on Amazon.com, it ain't worth your time. Free shipping, baby, and I don't even have to put on a pair of pants.
Besides, I fancy myself a fiction writer. I sit around watching Dr. Who (#9!) and Fringe, I have a Star Wars family of Mandelorians on the back of my Focus (the Gallifreyan family made it onto the Van). When other moms are pinning about how to decorate the nursery, I'm looking up how to teach 'em about the circulatory system and particle physics. I frequently refer to my youngest as Stormaggedon and I wear character t-shirts far more often than I prefer to admit. Our kids have seen their fare share of CONs, the oldest can discuss time travel and the paradoxes associated with it, and DC superheroes are my toddler's favorite. Suck it, Spiderman.
Despite all that, here I am. My husband calls me Samantha, my three little girls call me mom (actually two out of the three summon me via screams, but please don't scream at me). I work full time as a nursing assistant at a hospital in the Twin Cities and attend classes part-time, on the long and exasperating path to becoming a full fledged nurse. If it weren't for a question of originality, I'd have been satisfied writing witty Facebook statuses for the rest of my life about the shenanigans my children pull on the daily, well after Facebook isn't a thing anymore because I hate change. Though I'm not sure the shenanigans will be as cute when they're 25 and it involves alcohol (because my children will wait until they're done with college to ingest any alcohol, of course) and when your seven-year-old follows up a statement with "PLEASE don't put that on your Facebook page mom", one can only imagine how pissed she's going to be at thirty when I chuckle and whip out my smart phone (yes, that'll be me in 2035 still using an iPhone 3) at her unintentionally brilliant one-liners.
So here's my new space, my new digs, that hopefully I'll remember on a somewhat regular basis to throw up a few words to keep it interesting. I'm not a blog reader, so trying my hand at being a blog WRITER could turn out to be an epic fail. Take, for example, reader approval. On Facebook I bank on that "like" button. Quick and easy, you don't have to use too much of your grey matter in an attempt at a thoughtful response or even a simple "Huzzah!". Just click like. Your sentiment is clear. A blog, however, has this inch wide, big and intimidating white text response box. No pressure though. Really. The layout bit? I'll figure that out, but for now I'm quite aware this thing is an eyesore. Also, no one judges for grammar on good ole Facebook, so don't expect anything too pristine. I promise not to mix up my theirs and theres, but stray punctuation and run-on sentences, those sneaky bastards trip me up. My apologies to every English teacher I've ever had. You did your best.
My three beautiful experiments in the field of genetics.
Woo Hoo!
ReplyDeleteYou rock Sam, well said!
ReplyDeleteI just found my new favorite blog <3
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