Blogging failure
In June, I challenged myself to write everyday. I failed at it. I did put in some effort and wrote more frequently (easy considering my usual rate of posting) in the first two weeks. Then complete failure. Then one post in July…and August is almost done. I failed. But I’m so excited.
Because I chose not to blog. Because feeling more energetic meant that I didn’t lay in bed with a laptop on my lap while I punched out some lines about my perpetual lack of energy or Baby Brother’s potty training antics (I have now given up hope and waiting for him to do it in his own good time…and praying that his own good time is sooner than his 3rd birthday). Feeling energetic meant that I have been tackling disorganized closets, haven’t allowed laundary to pile up, watering the lawn (it’s been feeling Hubby’s lack of attention due to his MBA + work), putting effort in serving the kids healthy meals, spending time with my daughter working on math skills (making my own worksheets, each modified based on strengths and weaknesses observed from previous exercises) etc. And I’ve even done some things that I previously considered ridiculous, like ironing my daughter’s karate uniform. I used to wonder who had time to do silly stuff like that. Apparently I do. And it’s not that I have time…time is still a limited resource. Anybody figure out how to get more out of the 24 hours, please drop me a line. But being less tired has meant that I noticed how badly wrinkled her uniform was in karate class which left me cringing in my seat, hoping other parents don’t notice. And I’ve been ironing karate uniforms since then.
But, yeah, I was talking about blogging failure. I am not a blogger. I wanted to be at some point. When I had unrealistic expectations of how much I could get done in such little time. When I was too tired to do stuff that mattered. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to be a blogger. But having energy and still not having enough time is helping me realize how I need to choose what I do with my limited resources. Such as time. And energy (I still run out). And there’s a WHOLE lot that I want to do. A HUGE backlog of stuff from being tired so much. And as I write this, I’ve just decided to put together an action plan to attack the backlog – that way I know when I’m done and just in operations mode. I should avoid always feeling as if I have a backlog. Is my backlog even real? Perhaps some items should be delegated…those African fabrics that I’ve been planning to make into lovely dresses for my daughter for instance…should think about that.
Oh…I really came online to write about the Nigerian Sesame Street. Read about that, first with excitement, then with my blood fuming as I read about the character with HIV that Nigerian children are supposed to identify with. That’s just what Nigerian children need. Thank you Sesame Street! But that deserves a separate post.
