The whole point of having a blog, for me, is to talk about what I’m feeling in a, hopefully, honest and humbling way. I have done this on two different blogs since my first child was a toddler, going on 6 years now.
But I get really passionate when I get down in the dumps. When I’m challenged beyond belief, when I can’t see straight, when I feel like I’m being judged every time I turn around (even if it’s not true), when misunderstandings abound….
The kids, my two wonderful and exasperating kids, are the light of my life. And I couldn’t do what I do without DH who is more hands on with the parenting than many others. But there it is. I get bogged down when he’s off pursuing his hobbies, usually in the great outdoors, and wonder if my brain will ever recover from parenting small children in a tiny house I can’t wait to leave.
I blog because I have to, for myself. I check the stats occasionally and feel pleased when my 60-90 visitors check in. I get a little deflated when I drop down below the 60 hits, but realize with my rational self that it’s probably not my writing. Nor my topic. I realize that people, my readers, they check in when they have time to relax and read up on others. They don’t know me personally and don’t judge me (and if they do, that’s fine, I am after all ink in the internet just like so many others). They do not spend their life thinking about me. They have their own lives to live. And their own blogs to post to.
(Thank you for visiting me, whoever you are.)
If I wanted to, I could do what I need to do with this blog and elevate it to better readership stats, but for now, this is enough. I fulfill my need quite adequately by talking to myself, this way.
But there was this thing that had me second guess if I should blog at all.
My recent dilemma involving my 7 year old boy who had me on the verge of tears and walking on egg shells for weeks, he’s the one who had me second guessing myself. I finally decided to put it out there, my challenge with him (or a snippet of it). I posted a post and tweeted it. Then I felt better and went to bed. Maybe someone will send a word of encouragement or empathy, I thought. Whatever. I put it out there.
In the middle of the night I had an anxiety attack. Am I doing my boy a disservice? Should I be discussing my issues with him this honestly and truthfully on the internet? Do I have to a right to do that, especially now that he is getting older?
I take care to protect privacy. I also feel a certain amount of protection by the sheer volume of other parents, and bloggers, who talk about their kids on the internet. This isn’t really why I blog though…I mention the kids because they are, by extension, a part of me. I am who I am today because I had them and have them in my life.
I blog because I have a need to fulfill about ME, not them.
Still, I went and privatized that post where I cried about my Benjamin. He was so mean to me. He was so unappreciative. He was so…..challenging.
Today he’s fine. We reached a new plateau. Last night after a lovely day (and weekend prior to yesterday) he had a one-hour fit about a Halloween candy from LAST YEAR (forgodsake) and I am proud to say I handled it well. I have learned in the past weeks to step back and be the parent, and not take it personally. Oh he tries to hurt me, by hurling insults in my direction. But instead of engaging in it I let him get it out of his system and then, when he’s calm, we talk. Or I educate in a non-educating kind of way. Or illustrate something to him using an example.
He gets it. He’s maturing so fast, but there is that little boy, almost toddler boy, that still resides inside that skinny frame of his. It’s almost like he needs to have the odd meltdown, so as not to let me forget that he’s still my baby.
He has been, and did again last night, sleeping in my bed. There is a deep connection between him and me no matter what battle we are currently involved in. We find our way back to ‘normal’ and take another step forward, together.
My despair was so deep it affected my relationship with my biggest supporter (my mom) who misunderstood something that was said to her about me. It has put a strain on many other things, and kept me an introvert. I don’t NEED them, I tell myself. Go live your own life.
I also reach for Gordon Neufeld’s book Hold on to your Kids. It’s the only one that truly grounds me, when I reach the depth of parenting despair. But I don’t have it handy, now, I lent it to a friend who will hopefully benefit from it the way I have.
Today I went back to my blog and un-privatized it. I put it out there again, my blog posts, and will tweet them. Maybe by the end of the week I’ll check my stats, just out of curiosity. Maybe I’ll be too busy to care.
Either way, typing it out like this, it makes me feel better.