So next week is Family Camp.
Hi! Welcome to Sincerely ‘Fro Me to You. You can read about this madness here, if you want to link up.
I love organizing paraphernalia. (I also like that word).
Answers PART I
You guys asked some great questions last week. I’m going to tackle the blogging questions today and will work on the personal questions later.
Because I’ve got to paint my toes to figure out the meaning of life (two personal questions I received).
A French Pedicure is my favorite.
Yes, I am that glamorous. I’m also answering your questions in paragraph form. Because I like to complicate things.
A complicated, fancy girl with a french pedicure trying to figure out the meaning of life.
A few technical blogging questions popped up in the midst of all those inquiring minds. I’ll just admit right now that I am the LEAST qualified person to give technical advice. I think this has been my greatest blogging challenge. I need a manual. It’s been trial and error. Lots of error.
And, I’ve emailed perfect bloggy strangers and they have been helpful. And I probably gave them a good laugh. Because ignorance of my magnitude is funny. And so, I hope this also answers the question about my plans to move my blog. I’d love to move it to Word Press one day. But my fears are real and I come from a long line of over-reactors.
I stumbled into blogging less than a year ago. I had read very few mom blogs at the time and was looking for a writing outlet. I invited extended friends and family to read my little stories. I don’t regret this, but if I knew then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have actually sent an invitation. So, it’s not anonymous, but the majority of my local friends don’t know about my blog. And no one has ever said, “Hey, aren’t you THAT family?” Although plenty of people have thought it. I’m sure.
And when extended friends and family do bring up the blog? It’s actually embarrassing. Last week at my hubby’s family reunion, I had second and third cousins by marriage bringing up my Rear View.
I find that I’m much more comfortable with perfect strangers knowing about my White Trash moments than my neighbors. But, my hubby and kids and parents enjoy the stories and we like to laugh at ourselves. (My mother-in-law doesn’t have the Internet, but has her daughter read my posts to her). Good thing, huh? Because being nekid at VBS is hilarious. Once your back home.
My kids even say occasionally, “That would be great on your blog, Mom!” And of course, I can’t use it because tape recorded toots are just tacky. Plain and simple.
As for “off-limit topics?” I have many. I don’t like to vent or rant about other people on my blog. I try to keep it positive and only exploit those who live with me. (Although the family reunion was fertile soil for some brilliant posts. You’ll just have to trust me on that one). I also don’t use my kids’ names or give our exact location. I don’t cuss (in real life either, all those years living with a Pastor, I guess). And I do keep some things to myself. I think they call it privacy and we need just a dab of it. I do give out my email address and gladly accept gifts. Thanks for asking 😀 I also answer every email sent my way.
I loved the question, “How do you write funny stuff? Can you come make my life funny?” I don’t think my life is any funnier than anyone else’s. I think it’s just perspective. Because believe me, in those moments, I am not laughing. The line between hysteria and hysterical is very fine, my friends!
I love order and organization and so does my blog. When I first began, I would sit down, jot down whatever I could think of and hit publish. I discovered two things right away: I wasn’t very funny and I had a lot of typos. I keep a little file on my computer and a notepad in my purse and I write down EVERYTHING that makes me laugh, even if it’s just one line. I have dozens and dozens of ideas that may or may not become posts. I write a post and then let it simmer for a day or two. I reread it and add a few things and edit it. This works for me.
My passion is writing, so that makes that part of blogging easy for me. I truly enjoy it and I feel such relief when I get a story on paper.
The goals I have for my blog are evolving. I’m still relatively new to all of this but I’d love to attend a blogging conference and meet other addicted dedicated bloggers. I think a Texas Bloggy get-together would be a blast! (And I’ll get right on that after I catch up on laundry. So, it could be a year or four). Sure, I would love to make some money. Is that bad? I don’t have goals to get rich, but I got my first check from BlogHer Ads the other day and it made me smile. Widely. And if I only made .29 cents (TOTAL), I’d keep blogging. I’d also like to publish my blog in book form on Blurb. I haven’t started yet, but a few family members have put in their orders. I love that I have some subscribers and it’s such an honor to see those numbers grow. I always have a number in my mind and when I reach it, I feel like I’ve met a small goal. Then I raise it a few. . .
As for reading other blogs, I try to read what’s on my blogroll daily. I subscribe to almost 100 blogs and follow them on Bloglines. As I get to know blogs and want to share them, I add them to my blogroll.
I used to spend a lot more time leaving comments. This is the main reason my blog has grown some. Now, I spend the majority of my time writing. During the day, in between mothering, I blog hop, read and leave a smattering of comments and I do most of my writing at night.
Bloglines has helped me manage my time a little better in reading blogs, but I do not have a handle on the time management end of blogging! I know I will never catch up!
I’ll tackle part two in the near future!
Don’t forget to enter my fun vintage apron giveaway here!
I am 35 years old.
Thank you for allowing me to repost a few of my favorite posts from my Archives on my old Mac blog. This was originally posted in March.
I was wandering down my daily blogroll when I came to this post by Heather J over in Jirkaville. It was riveting.
I was un-bathed. Pajama-clad (actually I lost my pj bottoms somewhere along the way of rushing my older kids out the door) so, I was half-naked. My priorities were in order: I was reading other people’s business before I took care of my own.
My one year old sat in my lap while I worked on my laptop at the kitchen counter. My baby likes to dig thru the drawer while I blog away.
As I intently read, I was moved to tears by Heather’s post . My daughter started squirming, so I sat her on the floor. She had a plastic thingy in her hand. At least that’s what I thought it was.
4.5 seconds later, she started screaming.
I whipped around and IN-SLOW-MOTION-BECAUSE-I’M-A-SLOW-THINKER, I realized that the said plastic-thingy was SUPERGLUE.
I scooped her up and ran to the kitchen sink.
These words are FLASHING in my head:
YOU ARE NOT MATURE ENOUGH TO BE A MOTHER. FIND AN ADULT IMMEDIATELY.
My daughter’s hands were covered in Superglue AND her lips were glued closed.
Let me just pause and LET THAT SINK IN.
Baby. Lips. Glued. FOR ETERNITY. Jesus, help me.
I’m crying, she’s crying, I’m splashing water on both of us. Praying for help, begging for forgiveness. It did dawn on me in a surreal way, how perfectly still my child became. She knew it was bad. And I think she was hoping for another adult to arrive.
The warm water and a little pressure helped part her crusty lips. THANK GOD.
She didn’t ingest the glue and that seemed to be very good news.
I nearly passed out when I heard the key in the front door.
A host of heavenly angels ushered my dear hubby into the kitchen in search of something he’d forgotten. He saw the superglue, our crusty, sticky hands and his baby’s lips and took over.
I googled, “Baby lips and super glue.” Which I’m sure helped Child Protective Services hone in on my whereabouts.
And I’m sure this was an internet first.
According to reliable resources, acetone is the enemy to superglue. It’s the kryptonite to the Super mega adhesive.
Thank GOD, I paint my nails.
We dipped cotton into nail polish remover and scrubbed. My one year old perfected her dirty look and my husband didn’t even ask how it happened.
Which now, I find disturbing. He returns home to find his daughter’s life in mortal danger under my care and it doesn’t even surprise him.
We cleaned her up as much as possible.
“I’ve got to get to work,” my husband said as he grabbed his jacket.
“What? You can’t leave me. I cannot be trusted. It’s not even 8:30 a.m and I nearly wounded your baby,” I said as I grabbed his pant leg and held on for dear life.
He smiled at me. And left.
I checked on that girl 432 times during her morning nap. The entire time I couldn’t help to think about the wisdom of these words: KEEP OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN.
And, all I have to say is they will let anyone be a mother these days.