remember me?
I always check the box.
When I sign in to my blog site with username and password, I check off "Remember me." But sadly, these days with yawning gaps between entries, my computer rarely does. "Oh, did you used to write a blog?" it seems to say, spinning its little hourglass at me. "Okay, let's see here..."
On Sunday, with still one more week to go of Isaac's break from preschool and early deadlines for the paper looming thanks to that bloody (literally) fourth of July b.s., I decided there would never be a good time and so I'd just commit now. Commit to writing a blog entry every day for a full week. So there. Yeah. Mmm-hmmm. C'mon, I'm every woman.
No, your refresh button didn't let you down, I'm afraid there were no entries for Sunday or Monday.
I mentioned to just one other person besides my husband that I was planning this ambitious project, and he talked about blogs that use too much filler and spend too much time referring to other blogs. He maintained that a couple well-written essays a week (i.e., my articles for the paper) were enough for any busy, distracted mom.
And yet, I couldn't help but dip into that unconscious belief honed over sooooo many years against my will that I should be able to do it all - all of it - ALL OF IT. As a man, my friend can't quite appreciate the sincerity and fervor with which society has stoked the fires of such ideals, or how, despite all our talk, advances, my midwife's bumpersticker calling all Uppity Women to Unite, the white noise behind being female hasn't changed much in a whole lot of decades.
In fact, it's grown. We've taken over. We now make choices to do it all, snap our own whip.
I know, I was just talking about a dumb blog for godssake. And now we're knee-deep in the women's rights movement and the mommy wars. As usual, there is likely more in the way of connectors going on in my brain than I have time to spell out here.
When I was little, I had a huge fight with my best friend, Patti, over what the first day of the week was. It was the most significant disagreement we had in our eight-year friendship (from age 2-10) . She said Sunday was the first day. I said it was Monday.
Since I'm currently in a review class of childhood mentality, I'd like to propose that Tuesday is now the first day of the week. I'll be writing a blog every day for this week that begins today - Tuesday. And if you don't think Tuesday is the first day of the week, then I just won't share my playdough with you.
2 comments:
Honey, you're the one with the two-year old! You can make any day you want be the first one, and I'll go along. I'll even bring my own playdoh. Jude
Oh, dear, I'm still a novice at this -- do they spell Playdoh like that?? I think I must have blocked it out, along with the truck my son rides around called "The Wizzard" (sic)
Post a Comment