unwritten

I read about these people who were so overwhelmed, tired and frustrated that the writing of their blog was the only thing that saved them. They talk about screaming kids and piles of laundry and how blogging was the way they coped. I don’t understand these people. When my kid is screaming, the last thing I can think of doing is to sit and write anything. What I want is a drink. And a pillow. And for the love of all that’s holy…silence. How does the laundry get done in these houses where people blog to cope? Does the blog somehow magically spit out detergent? Have they found a way to type and sort socks at the same time? Seriously. I’m so confused.

I’ve said before that when I love, I do it with my whole heart. Recently, my whole heart has been tried and tested. When Tania had to bury her baby, I grieved with her regardless of how far away I live. When Janay had beautiful news, we laughed and praised God together. When Brandy was faced with the hardest trial of her life, I couldn’t blog our way to happiness. I flew her to DC and we sat on my sofa and stared at each other, both as sleeplessly exhausted as the other. When Brynna threw a fit in the middle of the restaurant this afternoon, I couldn’t type a solution. I had to sit in the midst of all those people staring at me like I was poisoning my kid simply because I asked her to eat chicken.

I don’t blog because it can somehow save me. I blog because I hope that somewhere in the middle of my craziness, you can see a part of you. I hope you can find something to laugh at (usually at my expense…I’m ok with that). I hope you can read a little something that makes you think, points you in the right direction or brings you to your knees. I’ll try to get better at not disappearing for periods of time. But know that when I have gone MIA, it’s not because I have nothing to say. It’s because if given the choice to sit and hold my friend while she cries or write about it, I’ll choose to be unpublished any day of the week.