Some months when I come here to write my blog, the creative juices flow so well that I have to bring a cork to stop from flooding the entire room. Other months I struggle to find something to say or strain to find my sense of humor about whatever I’m writing about.
This month is one of the struggle
months.
I don’t even know why. I’m rarely
at a loss for words and I always have an opinion on something. If you
don’t believe me, ask my husband. We are two opiniated peas in a pod. Yet this
month the words have dried up faster than a glass of water in the Sahara.
Trying to force this blog this month is like trying to have a bowel movement
after eating an entire wheel of cheese. (At least I imagine so, never having
eaten an entire block of cheese in one sitting.)
But that’s life right? Sometimes
you’re the windshield, cruising along life with a clear view and a goal of
where you are going. Other days you’re the bug, flying along and having a
pretty decent day until WHAM! A windshield jumps out in front of you and now
you’re a bug sandwich.
(Quick verbal detour here: WHAT is
in bug guts that makes it impossible to clean with my windshield wipers and
washer fluid? I am using Windex and literal squeegees, and this
stuff is like cement. What’s worse, sometimes it smears. So now you have cement
bug gut lines across the window. It’s maddening.)
Being the oldest daughter,
Generation X, a people pleaser (pick any or all reasons), I loathe letting
anyone down. Even if it’s the 9.5 people who come here every month to read a
quirky anecdote from my life. (Why .5 you ask? Because I’m sure that at least
one person finds themselves here accidentally and leaves without finishing the
post. Or a Gen Z finds themselves lost to all my antiquated references. Or
someone just finds me abrasive and not their cup of reading material. So half.)
So this is really just a lengthy
apology letter. To all 7 ¾ of you who may visit here monthly looking for a
small chuckle or a glimmer of hope that your kids will grow out of their d-bag
phase. (*Still 50/50 odds there, sorry.) And for any of you who may feel the
need to get their monthly quota of mayhem, well, I guess it’s a good thing that
I’ve been writing this blog for over a decade now. Go back and binge some
classic mayhem from the early days.
I was probably funnier back then
anyway.
Well, probably less tired at least.
Until
next month my amigos. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say. And if not, I’ll make
up something believable. You know, kinda what I do every other month!
Need visual mayhem? Find me on
FaceBook at Modern Mom Mayhem.
I even remember to post on
Instagram occasionally (@modernmommayhem)
Want to share your mayhem? Send an email to modernmommayhem@gmail.com.
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