Friday, May 11, 2012


There's a post that I have been meaning to write since Tuesday, but Devin was out of town all week and I had no real access to a computer or the internet until he got back.  Now he is back, and I was about to start writing it, but it is all about things I've learned lately as a mother.  It occurred to me that Mother's Day is in a few days.  And I felt too uncomfortably cliche - like, who do I think I am to be writing about being a mother just before Mother's Day?  Shouldn't I at least wait until the day?  And then who is going to want to read one more post about mothers?  And then there is the voice that says "Who cares, this is your blog, write what you want to."  And then a voice responds and says, "Yeah, but maybe I am kind of tired of hearing about mothers too, what with that time magazine cover and the uproar all over facebook and everything.  Maybe I don't want to be just another voice in all the madness trying desperately to convey what I feel about motherhood."

So then I just sat here, going from one random pinterest pinned website to another.  Checking facebook for the tenth time in ten minutes.  Checking my email to see if maybe someone wrote me in the past five minutes?  And I kept coming back to my blog, wanting to write something at least.

And so here I am.  And this is something, isn't it?

It's funny.  Maybe not to you, I don't know.  Every night when I fall asleep I fall asleep writing blog posts in my mind.  I write perfect sentences, rearranging words and trying to put them all in an order to most accurately portray what I am thinking and feeling.  My brain always starts off wanting to sound fancy and use exciting words and be witty and cute, and then my brain gets angry at me for wasting words and tries to cut it down to a simpler size.  Just say what you mean and nothing extra, that part of my brain demands.  So I do, slashing and chopping away at my beautiful sentences until I am left with the bare essentials of communication.  Slowly but surely however adjectives and adverbs here and there will pop up until I am a rambling, circumlocutory mess again.

This post I am writing off the top of my head, as the words come into my brain so they are typed by my fingers. And you know, I can type pretty stinkin' fast.  Really, I can.  So tomorrow morning I will probably hate this post.  Ah well, you can't love them all.


Also, is it just me or do I come across as having a split personality in this post?  Arguing with myself all the time and whatnot.


  1. Amy, I have never used 'circumlocutory' in a sentence before. I was going to say "I have never used 'circumlocutory' in a sentence," but that would have been a lie.

  2. Dear Amy, go ahead. Decorate those bare bone words. A tree without leaves and blossoms is only a skeleton, waiting for Spring, to be decorated. You paint so many lovely pictures with your words! I enjoy every picture you paint. And, MOTHERS. The pictures you paint about mothers and motherhood remind me of my mother, my sisters, my wife, my daughter, my lovely granddaughters, and my lovely, lovely, great granddaughters. How lucky, blessed, we boys are to live in a world where we can play house, with girls. We LOVE it! (Even if we're reluctant to admit it.) When Eve was created meet, suitable, for Adam - What a masterpiece she was, and is. So soft, yet so tough! So wise; enough to let us show off once in a while. Let us feel how indispensable we are. Living in a world of mothers past, present and future, is a marvelous experience. Love, grandpa H.

  3. Well, I enjoyed this post, but I am curious what it is you decided not to say about mothers. :)

  4. You've an excellent eloquent head. I love it.

  5. One reason I love reading your blog is because I often feel and think "Me too!" Do you know that I fall asleep writing posts for my blog, or reviews for books on goodreads etc... all the time. But unlike you I only rarely actually ever type/post mine. I already have felt the catharsis from the mental writing and don't have the energy to redo's kind of sad & frustrating. I also argue with myself in a very similar manner as to you.