Write. Tell. Say.

 I've struggled with knowing what to write here. I know, I know. It's been mere days since I started (yet another) blog, but I've already felt the pull of  "you need to be writing, Jenn ...write. Tell. Say."

  I almost want to write about how I've washed, dried and or folded at least 4 loads of laundry a day for 8 days straight. I would love to write about the fantastic chili gracing our table last night, and how the kids I expected to hate it the most, loved it and vice versa. I almost want to write about my T, and all his wonderful-ness, and how our relationship has blossomed & thrives on silent smiles, good teamwork & little things. He'd probably cringe if he knew he was in any way associated with anything blossomy. I could write about my (overgrown) garden, my un-fulfilling 9-5, my desire to spend every winter evening snuggled with my little ones, reading stories & sipping hot cocoa. I don't really want to write about TJ (the boxer baby) peeing in my bed, or stepping in nice warm squishy puppy poop this morning as the taste of coffee first hit my lips. I'm inclined to consider writing about my eldest (let's call him C), who's a straight A's senior in high school with a self-appointed diploma in Life and All Things Related, & has mustered up several solid efforts at disrupting Household Peace for a week straight. I could write about how our once-in-a-blue-moon-calm-chat last night settled a few things, and this morning was (almost) dare I say, normal. Well, then there was the poop... sigh
 I guess there's quite a few things I haven't figured out, about what belongs here, what doesn't. About how I'll refer to our 6 minions, if not by name, not by initials (because some are shared), if not by only the way they make my heart swell with tears & pride, in more ways then one. I haven't yet figured out how I'll be able to fill these pages with details of happy blending, when I don't even have the answers on the "how-to blend & not be miserable" yet. I haven't decided if my free time will even allow writing, photography, or (fingers crossed) both. After all, I can't type from the bathroom, and that's where us moms get our peace & quiet, right? I haven't figured out yet how a blog titled "Eight Are We: The Pursuit of Blendedly Blissful" will entirely encompass all I want it to......children, good food, flowers, photos, humor, memories, ideas, projects, love, accomplishment, and iced coffee. Perhaps that's something I don't need to figure out, yet.
 Truth is, I've had it in my heart to write, to document via photos, to leave a legacy of sorts, a history if you will, of my life, my children, my story. I've wanted to do something, somehow, that touched someone, helped someone, or even just brought a smile to their heart once. I've toyed with  finding a sense of "this is who I am" & "this is what I'm worth" in ideas, and projects (a fatally interrupted 366 for example). I've read other blogs, and felt inspired, challenged, intimidated even. A few of my favorites I tend to rediscover, and fall in love with again, and again. The writing styles, the photographic styles, the candor, the finesse, the way their words just settle on your soul with a quiet understanding, a feeling of mom kinship. To say I want to be just like them when I grow up? Not an understatement. Please check them out. Serious. You will thank me.
 I guess I could start with a "Hi, my name is Jenn, I love coffee, cats & my camera. Here are my kids, this is my life, and oh by the way, here's a snapshot of unfolded laundry I took with said (dusty) camera. Please listen (read) as I babble on & on about nothing, and therefore find my tranquility."

I don't really have a laundry snapshot. Not a recent one, anyway. Add that to my to-do list, right below grocery shopping, teddy bear mending, book order ordering & snuggling.

Maybe later I'll write about the midgets (and the kids who are taller then me), show off the puppy, and start the real blogging. I just need to stop thinking. Write. Tell. Say.





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