It's November 5th

It's November 5th. Pick up your pen (or keyboard? ew) and write something already.

Since I last left you I've had to take lots of my own advice. Which I don't typically enjoy. As you know, laziness and hypocrisy can typically be friends, so the past couple weeks haven't been filled with as many Gilmore Girl episodes or walks with our baby dog/piglet as I had hoped. Oh yeah. We got a dog. (For those of you who only know about my life through this disjointed blog, which chances are, describes none of you).

In all his butthead glory. I love this picture so much because he'd rather be naughty and eat a table than eat some doritos. Definitely not related to me. What a weirdo.

In all his butthead glory. I love this picture so much because he'd rather be naughty and eat a table than eat some doritos. Definitely not related to me. What a weirdo.

This displays his "I'm scared of stuff I shouldn't be" side, with an element of squirmy little couch companion. Makes mornings more hectic and also more special.

This displays his "I'm scared of stuff I shouldn't be" side, with an element of squirmy little couch companion. Makes mornings more hectic and also more special.

Our (me and Glas') first weekday morning together, navigating life. We were both scared and excited and wished John didn't have to go to work.

Our (me and Glas') first weekday morning together, navigating life. We were both scared and excited and wished John didn't have to go to work.

And finally. His most common mood: fearlessness. Basking in that giant bed that is much much larger than his own,

And finally. His most common mood: fearlessness. Basking in that giant bed that is much much larger than his own,

We named him Glasgow. My dad's family hails from that city of Scotland (always wanted to take pride in that fact despite it not being of my doing) and we thought it sounded cool. It's also probably too mean to name a kid, so we went with it.

He's a cute little tiny guy who sometimes makes us lose our cool when he pees on stuff. I firmly believe beyond snuggles and companionship, he came into our lives to teach us. Teach us how not to cry or swear at him when he ruins our house in front of guests. Giving us the chance to learn responsibility, get up earlier like champs, and to work together. I know, I'm kind of bummed too. I hoped he'd just be for fun and never poop where he shouldn't. Lol, mom. Turns out you were right.


I find myself unable to be honest with you in this time. I am experiencing changing seasons in my life, as are many of you. It is different, it feels good, and I think I've taken a bigger step in my course than I meant to. I'm liberated, but grave.

I came across a post yesterday by one of my most favorite bloggers.* She wrote on the inability to write constantly. She spoke about over-sharing, over-spilling. She talked about something I'm constantly aware of and endlessly afraid of; the sharing of every moment we experience, every new lesson we learn, every exciting thing that happens. We do this because we all do this, and the affirmation feels good. I'm no liar. It really does. But she goes on to say, "We give up sacredness for the rush of affirmation –– I divulge, therefore I exist. We don’t get a chance to ever really feel something in a totally pure state without those feelings being tampered by the onlookers we willingly, or unwillingly, called to table." Fire. In. My. Brain. She hit life right on the head. And she really got the honest parts of me.

*seriously if anything, read her post. it's so good, and she makes amazing food and takes gorgeous photos: click here for the second time I've linked to her post in two paragraphs.

Here's the deal. There is a lot of criticism about the over-sharing that's become a part of our culture. There's obviously a lot of sharing going on too, otherwise they wouldn't have any ground upon which to critique. I'm a fan of the sharing. I really am. We've all become journalists. We have a chance to tell a story, and in this day and age, we actually have several platforms where people might actually listen, if not at least hear us. I think this is a beautiful development and progression of time, and I am thankful to be here experiencing it, digesting it, questioning it, and celebrating it. Sharing is at times important, at times good, and at times significant. However, as my dear fellow writer points out in the most eloquent words possible, this sharing can turn into a pattern in our lives that is a scary addicting search for affirmation, for the sensation that our existence is real and important, and its a hard pattern to shake. And by the way, our existence (yours and mine) IS REAL AND IMPORTANT. But we shouldn't have to tell people everything about our lives to feel that way.

flannel

Furthermore, she offers the observation that we are sacrificing the beautiful authentic moments that are the very origin of our sharing in the first place! How obnoxiously convoluted and dumb is that. (By the way, real sorry for this rambly sort of joke-y but serious writing style this is coming to you in, I'm in the midst of reading Amy Poehler's "Yes Please" and her writing voice has kind of taken over mine). It might be complicated, but it's a really good point. And it's really important.

Friends, please know this. I am not pointing fingers. Well, I am at myself. Which sucks, but is good. I could not be more aware of the fact that none of us are alone in this time and such experiences. This is why we must stand back with a critical eye, ask ourselves what patterns we are drawing, and if they are healthy. How do we go about changing these patterns? It's a good question and easier said than done. Here I am sharing with you, as I advise you not to share anymore. Of course that is the exaggerated somewhat satirical Amy Poehler taking over my brain for a minute, but seriously, the reaction to these thoughts is one that takes time, understands moderation, and extends grace. Should you choose to consider these thoughts along with me, please, please do take those elements into account.

I look over my past posts almost every time I get ready to post a new one. I feel myself changing. I can see it on this screen. I've only started this thing 5 months ago! If there is any point to this carrying on at all, this might be one. We need to remember what we've overcome. What we've learned. What happened in our lives when our children are 22 and want to know what the hell we did when we were their age and trying to figure it all out.

Thanks for bearing with me fellow travelers. It's alright if this one scared you away. I'm still thankful you came by. Until next time (for some of you).

I digress.