Ack

In response to my earlier posting today I've had several people send me links to their blogs and to other blogs they read. I've done a lot of thinking about blogging and why I do it since.

I started blogging as a way to force myself to write something. My goal was to write every day; I figured that if at least one other person was reading what I wrote, I'd be more regular about it and I'd try to write well. I'm less likely to be whiny about my life if other people are reading my words - I've burned most of my journals because they ended up being a listing of what was wrong with my miserable life. Plus if other people are reading my writing, I think about how I write. I have a reputation as a "professional writer," earned or not, and I need to live up to it.

I also started blogging to record and share stories about the kids. Brandon gave me the best compliment about my writing. After reading a few entries, he said, "It's so cool that you do this. The kids will be able to read these when they're older and learn so much about what they were like as kids and what you were like. They'll learn who you are." That really means something to me. I want them to know that I'm not always just "mom."

But the more I read other blogs the more I wonder if we're all just a bunch of introspective navel gazers, focusing inwards on our lives and ignoring everything else that goes on. Plus, all the blogs I read seem to be about marriage and kids. Is there really anything new under the sun that I can contribute to those topics? All mothers have cute, disgusting and heartbreaking stories about their kids.

And my inferiority complex is kicking into high gear as a result of reading other blogs. The writers all seem to be hipper, cooler, wittier, funnier and smarter than I. Plus their kids are all better behaved and smarter than mine.

So now I'm off to bed, resisting the urge to get on a political soapbox about Bush commuting Scooter's sentence. That's a posting for another time.