It has taken me all day to write a blog post that usually takes 10 minutes.
I’ll let you in on a behind-the-scenes secret; My posts are not carefully considered, researched vessels. They’re our stories, usually in 300 words or less, and for the most part write themselves. I edit, of course, trying to spin our mundane into a tale enjoyable to read. But at my best, I can churn a week’s worth of entries in one sitting.
Which is why it’s absurd to take 2 hours for a single poorly-worded paragraph.
I’m unsure if it’s from the time of year, all three clamoring for attention in the heat of an early summer, or if my kids have really just been especially needy this week, but I can’t sit down long enough to gather a cohesive thought. There’s a kid in my lap, or in my face, urging one of a million actions that are of utmost importance at that particular point in time. I try to argue. Can I just finish this sentence first? This one sentence that I’ve been battling out of the keys with such resistance. But in acceptance of defeat, I close my laptop and settle in for yet another telling of Curious George Flies a Kite instead. That crazy monkey.
This. Life. It is where my blog posts come from anyway. There is nothing to write about if I don’t live it. I sometimes get too caught up in documenting.
So it took all day, literally from morning til night, to complete an entry, finally saving it to drafts once the kids are in bed. It should have been a penned work of genius. Except I spent all that time just to scrap it at the last minute and write this instead.