I can write. In fact, I can write well. I spend a lot of time writing at work – care plans, assessments, e-mails, minutes and lots more. A lot of time is spent at a computer, just writing. And I can do that. I like to use words to capture the person – their skills, hobbies, past and present. I do it everyday.
Writing my blog though is different. My words never seem enough – I feel as though I never quite ‘say’ what I am trying to say, or get across the complete joy in sharing a special moment with one of my girls. Moments like last night, when Rosie fell asleep on me for the first time in months, and I got cuddles before putting her in her bed. Or Amelia drawing me a picture and writing ‘mum’ on it. These things mean so much to me – these are the things I want to remember.
I think that reading blogs makes writing a blog harder. I love all of the blogs I read. I think there are some amazing writers, and people who give so much time to their little space on the Internet. I have laughed, cried, thought about things in new ways or just learnt about how others live.
I think I need to think about why I blog. I’ve thought about giving it up – time is precious when work gobbles up so much of it, and I have my girls, my house to sort out and also when I have things to do for me – watching Netflix, reading, watching british bake off. These are things for me. Blogging has become a chore in some ways, and something tap hat I haven’t wanted to do because it seems like hard work.
But I love to blog too. I like to share different things. So I will carry on. I just need to think about how.