Escape of the Inner Monologue

World, inside of my head. Inside of my head, world.

Daughter Wisdom

How has it been more than a fricking month since I posted? Insane. Time flies… as does judgment. It’s funny, but I find myself second guessing myself so much. I’ll think of something that might be a fun blog post and then I just mentally shoot it down until it doesn’t exist anymore. I mean, I’ve got a bucketful of excuses about how busy we are and how quickly the days move and whatnot but it really comes down to feeling like I can’t think of anything worth posting about.

Enter my glorious daughter.

We had just returned from a really fun weekend celebrating the marriage of two amazing people. We had had to get up super early for our flight home, and there was all the usual travel nonsense of driving, turning in the car, riding on a tram, hanging out in the airport, plus the actual flight and drive home …. all the waiting and sitting that 2 year olds really don’t care for. But she was, as usual, such a patient little traveler. So when we got home and she asked to go outside, I was more than happy to follow her lead and let her drive the next day part for a change.

She asked for her chalk and told me she wanted to draw airplanes on the driveway. We did that, and then I was instructed to draw a shark, a BEEEEG dragon, Totoro, and a snake. Then she wanted to sit down and color on her own for a while. She told me to sit next to her, and she happily started chalking away. I watched her for a few minutes, admiring her creation. She noticed I wasn’t drawing, picked up some pink chalk, and said, “Draw Mommy.”

“Ok. What should I draw?”

“Draw.”

“Ok.” I sat and stared at the blank pavement before me. I fiddled with the chalk. I stared some more.

“Mommy. Just draw.”

That kid is a genius, I tell you. I drew a heart, because in that moment she made mine feel very, very full.

You Can Only Be Told So Many Times

“You should start a blog.”

I’ve gotten this comment on numerous FB posts, in response to emails, and written on used Kleenex tucked into my hand in a crowded bar. It’s a tremendous compliment. Not being given a used Kleenex. But being told that people like what they read from you so much, they would actively visit a website full of nothing but your specific ramblings and navel gazing. That’s high praise, especially with so many things competing for our time every day.

But then the self doubt. Well what would I even write about? How can I possibly sustain being interesting enough? In my head the people who visit the blog click away in disgust, having realized what an aimless moron I actually am.

“You really should start a blog.”

There it is again. And this year I vowed that I would create something, anything – I know, a nice non-specific resolution to go with my New Year’s champagne toast. But I often feel a sharp pain in my gut because I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything to the world. I thought about learning to quilt, or perhaps brushing up my code skills.

“You would be so funny on a blog.”

Ok, third time’s a charm.