The lovely Jana Kingsford has suggested that starting my workday with a blog post is the way to go. Remember how I did that "NaBloPoMo" thing a couple of years back, and posted every day in November? That might be what's going to happen here, with Prolific Posting becoming more important than Amazing Content.
There are some who will tell you that the whole point of a blog is to attract readers. And for some people, that may be the case. I came up in the world of Live Journal, though, and dial-up BBS services, so for me, it's more of my letter to the world. My open-book journal. My place to pour it out. And that still makes me incredibly leery, because LOOK! This is an open platform -- what I put here is going to live on into eternity, thanks to the Wayback machine and other such things. My first blog, back when we called them Weblogs, was at PITAS. I can no longer remember my password, so I don't know how on earth to remove the account. At least my friendster account has gone the way of the dodo, along with friendster.
I'm feeling better today, but also feeling really sad about the rough day my poor kiddo had yesterday. "Everyone thinks I'm such a brave kid," he says, "but I'm scared of a lot of things." Halloween is rough on him, because he loves costumes and magic and candy, but he HATES the gruesome ghouls and floaty, gauze-wrapped skeletons everywhere.
And lately, I am butting up again and again against the pull of video games and cartoons on my son. I am not totally anti-media, but I feel like I'm getting sucked down and powerless against the riptide of violence and the addictive quality of screen time. He's still little, thank God, so social media isn't a concern yet. But UGH.
Sparkle Stories is always a help in this whole ordeal. They are what my son turns to when he can't sleep, when he needs some comfort, when the world is too much. Funny, heartfelt, touching, and full of truth, beauty, and goodness. There are five free Halloween stories on their site right now; that's where we'll head tonight.
Sara lives in Minnesota with her wife, their son, and a lot of cats and turtles. She coaches waldorf moms and other sparkly unicorns, helping them find wonder, ease, and contentment. Sara writes about parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.