And, again my compulsion gets the best of me…

You know, I was just thinking the other day, “I’m bored. There’s nothing to do this time of year…”

I know you were probably thinking the exact same thing, right?

Since my imperfect conclusion to NaBloPoMo back in September, I’ve been pondering the possibilities. Shall I have a “do-over”? Shall I leave well enough alone? If I were to do a “do-over”, when would be a good time? Now? Later? Never? I guess all I ultimately decided was that it’s rather like having another baby. For one, there is NEVER a perfect time. And two, if you can’t ever resolve that you’re done for good, you probably aren’t done.

Then, amidst my noncommittal self-talk, with a stroke of serendipity, I stumbled upon this lovely little project called Holidailies. It is a project I can’t refuse. So, lucky you, you’re in for a treat. The rules say I have to post a minimum of 20 times between December 7^th and January 6^th, with the goal of one post per day in mind. I think I can hack it, even given the possible trip to the hills FireDaddy and I are planning for the holidays.

I hope you’re ready for this…because December has already been a bit of a rocky ride for me, folks. Within the first week of December, I have already: sustained back pain that interfered with my ability to function in the world, nursed sick children with dangerously spiking fevers, decorated the interior of my home for the holiday season (and managed to drag it out over the course of a week), moved furniture, bought paint for FireDaddy to repaint my kitchen, began searching for new paint colors for my office and den, continued to very slowly create handmade gifts for family and friends, taken approximately 1000 pictures, watched my beloved Old Boys of Florida stumble in defeat, and eat my weight in banana pudding. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d say this should be an interesting month.

Wow. And I wondered why I was so cranky yesterday.

It's September 30th...Now What?

This day actually snuck up on me, believe it or not.

Wow. What a month it has been.

I'm bitten by the nostalgia bug right now. I feel a bit as though I'm graduating from something. I'm filled with sentiment and a dash of emptiness. No regret, though. (Well, except for that one day that I crashed without posting. A day that will live in infamy...)

As I bid adieu to the month my "Beautiful September", and I look back on my list of posts, I have to ask myself what I've learned.

1. Writing is not a strength everyday. Just like everything else, there are good days and bad days.

2. I need "me" time. And, writing can be that.

3. Prioritizing makes anything happen.

4. It is possible to burn out on writing. But, it is only temporary.

5. Writing daily truly transforms your thinking. There is a little burner in your mind that never really stops simmering.

6. Some days I want to write just for me - for no one else to see. Whether I keep it tucked away in a spiral somewhere, rip it up, or burn it, somethings are just for me.

Even after NaBloPoMo, I continue to struggle with some thoughts. For instance,

1. I read a quote from an author months ago that said something to the effect of "the day I became a writer was the day I stopped writing for myself and started writing for my audience". I have been through phases of thinking, with this blog especially, in which I've agreed and disagreed with that quote. True - it is MY blog. But, what good is a blog without readers? It may as well be in my spiral beside my bed. False - if I think not of myself, I don't like my writing...and if I don't like it, who will?

2. And, depending on which way the pendulum is swinging on that particular day, what is the purpose of this blog? Is there one? Is it a useful tool or a guilty pleasure?

And, finally, I'm left with a decision to make.

Now what?

The neurotic part of me sees this month as a failure. I missed a day. I cannot truly congratulate myself on a month of daily posting. Do I dare attempt a perfect month in October? If not October, another month?

The rational side of me, though, sees it for what it is, recognizes the feat it has been to pull this off - even imperfectly - and looks forward to the relief that comes from NOT "having to" post daily. That side of me also hopes that, without the pressure to produce even without true inspiration, the quality of my posts will improve and be more consistent. Elements of my life have definitely taken a blow from the relative neglect (even my sleep) because of this little pet project.

The insecure and needy side of me worries that perhaps my readers - even the silent ones - will go away. There is a nice reward in knowing folks are reading, even if their face doesn't appear on the sidebar and their name doesn't pop up in my comments.

So, here it is, September 30th, and I stand before you with many questions and few answers. I can say, though, that it has been a great month.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on my Beautiful September. Even you, ghost readers.

That's all for now. I'll see you tomorrow for a little Girl Talk.

Photo credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/iheartlinen/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

My Friend Launched a Writer's Crisis

There I was, happily doing a little light blog reading this evening. Dinner was in the works, FireDaddy was trimming the viburnum out front, and the girls were happily chillin' out in La La Land. Unknowingly, I decided to read the latest post by my friend, and NaBloPoMo amigo, Cheryl. In it, she talks about scheduling uninterrupted time for personal writing, and implies how the internet and blogging has eaten hours of her time.

Guilty. Yep. 100% guilty.

No surprises there.

So, what's the big deal? Well, I started thinking, which is NEVER wise for too long. (I'm neurotic, remember? I'm famous for over-analyzing things...)

I, too, would love to one day be a published author. A real, live, author. A FOR REAL, not just blogging, author. I'd love to see my own words IN PRINT...on PAPER...in a collection of other pages of print...bound together with some sort of adhesive and strings and stuff. You know, IN A BOOK.

This thinking has quickly launched a writer's crisis in me. Well, perhaps it's just a blogger's crisis. Right now, I'm ready to go grab a pen and paper and write things down that I don't want to share. I want to reclaim my permission to write JUNK. Permission to be a crappy writer and just WRITE. Permission to forget all about audience for the day.

But, you see, I'm sort of in the middle of something...(National Blog Posting Month, in case you need more direct hints). And, it's sort of become a "thing" to me. I need to do this. I don't like to fail (even though I technically failed very early on, but I've decided to heck with their rules and I'm doing it for me).

So, here I go...I'm abandoning my blog for the night. (It's a little too late for that, right?) I'm going off to my bedroom to tuck myself away with a spiral and a pen (again) and write whatever it is I dern well please - whether you like it or not!

But, I'll throw you a bone...here's an unfinished draft I found in my post list. Hope you enjoy! (Perhaps it sounds more professional to call it a "cliffhanger" rather than "unfinished"...)

WANTED: New home for five year-old girl. Must not have your own children. Must live in Florida (she doesn't want to have to speak a different language). Must be available to help plan a birthday party in June.

It happened this week.

She told me she didn't want to live with me anymore. She's moving out. She's leaving home.

Well, that was the plan for about 12 hours at least.

7 AM - Fire Daddy wakes me with startled: IT'S SEVEN O'CLOCK!

CRAP!!!

All four of us need to be dressed and walking out the door in FIFTEEN MINUTES! There was NO WAY...

I bypassed the panic button and opted for creativity...er, bribery.

I dashed to "the pink room" and lovingly snuggled up to my Big Girl in her drooling slumber and whispered, "Baby, it's seven o'clock. We're supposed to be leaving in a minute and Mommy and Daddy just woke up. If you girls get dressed and ready really quickly without any fussing or whining this morning, Mommy will buy you a prize this afternoon after school!"

(And in that moment, I officially became the worst mother in the world...blatant disregard to all known good advice...)

Regardless of my poor parenting skills, the strategy seemed to work for a few minutes. The girls were somewhat more cooperative than usual, though Big Girl was very slow moving. The Littlest Princess was amazingly easy-going (call it luck) and she and Fire Daddy were out the door in no time.

Big Girl and I, though, hit rock bottom. All she had to do was put on her shoes and socks while I brushed my teeth (and otherwise dressed myself). Instead, she chose to sit and do nothing, insisting her hair was brushed first. You could call it a conflict in priorities, I guess....or task avoidance.

Inevitably, the reminders grew harsher, the friendly prods turned more towards jabs from a hot poker, and my soft, sweet, loving, tender voice morphed to an onslaught of shrill, wicked threats. Until, finally, after the last warning had been declared and no improvements were seen, the gig was up. It was over. She'd lost it. No prize for her....

...and the Littlest Princess had proudly been promised her reward.

As you can imagine, all hell broke loose at this point.

Doors slammed. Tears streamed. Words were spoken that could not be retracted, though I'm not sure she proclaimed "The H Word" at all (as I would have as a child). And she announced her desire to live somewhere else.

When a mother hears these words, it is a turning point. You can react to it many different ways -- and, in my hyper-analytic, neurotic way, I think how you react says a lot about you....especially in that little person's mind. Well, it would have to MY little mind at that age...

So, what I said was this...

"I'm so sorry, Baby. Mommy's really going to miss you."

I wish I could have been inside her mind to hear know what she thought when I said that.

NaBloPoMo Challenges

Some of you may recall that I am participating in a web event this month called NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month. Overall, I've been doing quite well. Although I technically fell out of it early on when I missed a day - even though I did the make-up work the next day!

Today, though, I am struggling. It's not that I don't have anything to say, but that what I do have to say is really not suited for this venue.

My day presented me with news of a death in my family followed by a perky little jaunt to the mall and, finally, a surreal visit with my mother-in-law, a woman currently knee deep in the battle against lung cancer. At this hour, I am left a bit empty, to say the least.

What I'd LIKE to say is about the delicateness of life and death. The relativity between the two. The older I get, the more I believe the line that separates the two is not a sharp black line of permanent ink, but a soft line sketched in pencil, jagged and imperfect.

I'd like to write that I see gaps in the line. Places, times, conditions that force people into this twisted, non-life state. Your car sits in the driveway for weeks on end, untouched by your presence. Your world become small and tight. Little things, like a trip to Walmart, become large. Until the gap in the line around you finally closes in.

What I'd LIKE to write about is how a person can leave this life and immediately, that tiny existence their days had become, is immediately free to breathe again.

What I'd LIKE to say is how odd and selfish it feels to watch your child ride the dollar carousel, coo at puppies in a store, and play on a playground while others are dealing with death and disease. And how easy life would be if you could just stay there.

I'd really like to write all about how families need to grow up and put differences aside, whatever they think they have to lose, when they approach the line. Because NOTHING is worth that much.

I'd love to write all about the good in people and how, when you're near that sloppy line, the good shines through them like the morning sun through the bedroom window. But, if you're not there in the room, you'll never see it and feel its warmth.

It would tickle me pink to write all about hurt feelings. And wounded egos. And alterior motives. And greed. And competition. And how none of those things matter on the other side.

And, I'd love to write about forgiveness. Forgiveness is the hand we hold as we cross the line, even though we leave this life alone.

But, this is not the place for that. And so, I'll close my browser and head off in search of a pen and paper.

And that, my dear readers, is why NaBloPoMo can be a struggle.

Where am I going with all of this?

This blog was supposed to be funny, and sometimes it is. This blog was supposed to be a "mommy blog", and sometimes it is. But, what I'm discovering is that this blog is just as neurotic as I am. Like many blogs I read, it is less about a category or a style or a genre of writing, and more about ME.

Me, glorious ME!!!

But, I digress....

Tonight, I considered submitting an old post to BlogNosh. As I read and explored the site once again, I realized that none of their "channels" really fit me and my blog.

Last night, as I was tackling giants, I took a brief break to write about tackling giants. FireDaddy asked me, "Are you still working or are you playing?" I was working.

He didn't buy that. "Neurotic, Yet Classy is PLAY," he argued.

That is what I said when I started this. I remember telling people this was my "recess". But something has changed.

I put this on my to do list and really want to get to it. Perhaps it's NaBloPoMo. I want to know if I can cut it. I want to make it to the end. (Which is really a mute point because I've already missed a day...but I made up for it!) I want to accomplish that. But even if it weren't for NaBloPoMo, I do have a bigger goal in mind...I'm just not sure what it is yet.

True, it is still a "me" thing. (Aren't all bloggers at least a little narcissistic at times?) But that's not all it is.

So, I stand at the threshold of another post tonight and many exercises are running through my mind. Exercises I turn to when I'm just not feeling it yet. Or, perhaps when I'm "feeling" it, but can't put my finger on it. And yet, I yield. I wonder if this is the place for those things. Those words. Those stories. Do you mingle stuff like *that* with stuff like *this*? Do you bring your baggage - whether it be good or bad - to the playground?

I war with myself about this aspect of blogging. Do I write for me or for my readers? (You know, those 17 people have a lot of pull in my world.) Where am I going with all of this anyway? What is my goal? Do I have to have a goal? Am I really just completely self-absorbed and none of you really give a flying flip what I write about -- or even IF I write at all??? Do you? Do you give a flying flip? Huh? SAY SOMETHING, WILL YA?

(And this is where I realize I've gone too far.)

Welp, guess it's back to the drawing board. I'd better get down to "work", right? Enough of this silly stuff for one night.

Ain't gonna Nablopomo no mo' today.

**Postscript: Just wondering....Do you have a favorite post from Neurotic, Yet Classy that you would submit to BlogNosh if YOU were me, glorious me? If so, would you be so kind as to leave a comment reminding me of my glorious writing? ;) And don't worry...if you can't remember the titles, just say something like "the one where you ....." and I think I'll be able to figure it out. Thanks!

Photo credits:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/garibaldi/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I love this photo. It reminds me of one of my favorite Monet paintings.

GAME ON

This wonderful World Wide Web is such a funny place, isn't it? Whoever thought to call it a "web" in the first place had such foresight.

I mean, what intelligent woman ever predicted that men, women, kids, and teens would one day sit in front of a computer monitor for hours at a time doing little more than shifting their eyeballs from one side of their wide screen monitor to another, gently click-click-clicking their mice? Well, doing little more PHYSICALLY. What we're really doing is exploring and connecting, right? Socializing, at times?

It's funny how, sometimes, a surfing trip can feel like a vacation. A road trip, if you will. They take you places. You never know where you will wind up.

For instance, this week I've landed right in the face of two bloggy events. On most such occasions I read, surf a few links, and consider for...oh...3.5 seconds minutes before deciding it would be a shame to break such a streak of noncommitalness. (Is that a word?)

Readers, I'm proud to announce that streak is BROKEN! (Woo-hoo! I'm feeling all Thelma and Louise tonight, baby!) Here's what I'll be up to this month.

(1) NaBloPoMo. You're right. Part of me couldn't just resist an event with such a ridiculous name. It stands for National Blog Posting Month. Participants will post to their blogs DAILY for the entire month of September. Guess I'm going to have to break down and go wordless sometimes, huh?

(2) Girl Talk Thursday. I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm kinda girlie. Yep. It's true. I hide it well, don't I? What better event for a girlie girl like myself to participate in??? Especially when you get a personal invite from Ms. Blogger (who is also one of the "hostesses with the mostesses" of this event) herself??

So, my darling readers, stay tuned...it's going to be a busy month. After all, what else do I have to do, right?