I Couldn't Stop If I Tried

Blogging, that is. After my last post, which was a bit uber-snitty even for my sarcastic self, I've been stewing and thinking about what I'm doing here and the reasons to keep blogging vs. reasons to stop blogging.

I even made a list because I am anal like that and because making lists is productive and therefore a justifiable excuse to avoid scrubbing the toilets.

My list:

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*Rev. 5/31, 9:18 pm: Monica over at Paper Bridges (and she posts very well here, too) says she can't read my list. That handwriting is terrible, isn't it?

Here it is, typed:

Pros:

~Mostly nice bloggers out there

~The writing every day thing

~Legacy/life journal for my children

~Online presence should I ever publish a book and rock the NY Times Best Seller list

~Blogging's way cooler than anything I've ever been a part of before

Cons:

~Occasionally creepy anonymous comments

~Time -> Dude, this is becoming a huge time-eater

~Feeling like a tiny guppy swimming with sharks (that's pretty self-pitying, though)

~GoDaddy fees - spendy!

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I'll tape a PostIt over the DELETE button if it comes to that (because I can really throw down a good self-pitying snit fit when I haven't slept for ...wait, let me do the math...hmm, my oldest is almost 7, add 10 months pregnancy before she came along...the better part of eight years).

So here I will be, chit-chatting with you fine mamas who find their to my wee guppy blog, sharing little pieces of my life. But never the whole she-bang-bang.

Just like my dear, departed FIL would say when we broke open the Hoyles for a round of Euchre or Hearts (and don't you dare sit down to play either in the Mouthy Irish Bunch Family if you're not playing to win):

Never show your hand.

So you'll find me here, filtered.

As for the unfiltered me?

If you know me IRL, you've seen me in action. Type-A tendencies, occasional four-letter words muttered under my breath, and hands thrown up to Heaven in frustrated prayer as my children play Sibling Death Match on the sectional sofa.

I'm lots of fun, really. Just ask my dear Knute; he might run late at his Big Corporate Giant job, but he still finds his way home every day to our rowdy bunch.

Thanks for reading and thanks for commenting when you feel moved to do so.

Lurky Turkeys are always welcome, too.

And feel free to use the words bloggy, bloggity, internets, and internetz at will. I will not judge you.

WM