I have a dirty little secret to share with you as well. I happen to hate talking about myself. I know what you’re thinking: starting a blog was a great idea! The truth is, while it hasn’t felt entirely natural to share personal tidbits about my life, it has been a lot of fun. As a new year begins, I’ve been pondering what to write about and what people even care to read about. Should I discuss how I finally started watching Homeland and divulge who I’ve developed a strange crush on? Do you care what foods my children refuse to eat? Should I talk about why I cried on New Year’s Eve? Or how many times have I fallen off the exercise bike since my first spin class?
Personally, I enjoy reading the random things people share in their blogs and on Facebook. I joined Facebook a few months after my first son was born, and for me it was a little bit of a lifesaver. The first couple of months of motherhood can be a lonely time, especially when you’ve only recently moved to the suburbs and feel overwhelmed by the mere notion of trekking to the drug store with an infant in tow, let alone getting out of the house and meeting other new moms. Facebook reconnected me with the outside world and made me feel just a little less alone. It turned out I wasn’t the only one who had been pooped on! (By my infant, not by Al Roker.) I wasn’t the only one who had been awake since 4am! Yes, teething is torture! (And I can only imagine what it’s like for the baby…) The more mundane the posts, the more I rejoiced. Other people were experiencing the same magnificent/terrifying/revolting aspects of parenthood that I was. And it wasn’t just the parenting posts I craved. I loved hearing about friends’ nights out drinking, eating elaborate meals, and viewing movies in actual movie theaters.
I guess I’m hoping that reading about my sometimes humorous and oftentimes ordinary experiences in motherhood might make another new parent feel a little less lonely. As I think about what to write about next, I can promise you that I will never be sharing a story about pooping my pants at the White House (I know what you’re thinking: you would never be invited to the White House!) For now this will have to suffice: Saul and Brody (both disconcerting for different reasons), my older son doesn’t like tomato sauce and my younger one still won’t touch green beans, none of your business, and I haven’t fallen off any stationery bikes lately, thank you very much.
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