I feel worn out today.
Perhaps not the best day to post... and I might just delete this later. I just want to write anyway. I don't know what I want to talk about. I just want to write.
I love writing. That's why I began this blog. I'm still feeling my way with it. Some things seem too personal to share in such a public arena. Some things that parade across my thoughts might hurt or damage relationships so they're understandably off limits. Some wonderful topics I might discuss sometime simply do not call to be written today.
When I was in school, writing was what came naturally to me. I loved to have my papers read anonymously in class, smiling with delight inside at the quiet praise. My teachers encouraged me to go into the journalism field. While flattered, of course, I mentally recoiled at the thought of abandoning my children. I was a mother already in my heart. ;D Someday I would write, when my children were all grown.
In my younger years I journaled religiously. I occasionally cut and pasted pictures from magazines to illustrate my entries. I loved the freedom that lay in putting forth somewhere my thoughts, rants, and dreams. Years later I picked them up and went through them nostalgically. I am sentimental about the here and now, but I'm not one for keeping momentos really. No family photos all over the house, or even many in boxes. Off the books went to the garbage bin. It wasn't really great writing anyway.
Once I had my kids, all of that got put away; my life was at the same time too busy and too boring. I'd always known that once my real life of Wife and Mommy commenced, I would no longer have room for such a regular literary indulgence. This was the time for fully living, and who knew but that I might not have something worthwhile to write about someday?
You'd have to be a Mama to understand how that previous paragraph fits together so perfectly.
My husband got me this laptop last fall. It was the perfect gift at just the right time for me. Although we write today with these handy electronic traveling keyboards, my heart still feel the words are penned with ink like the woman in my caption. My children are not completely grown, but if I start writing now I might actually be a real writer someday when I grow up.