As I work with Chelle on the site redesign, contemplating colors and fonts and header sizes and such, I’ve been spending a lot more time actually looking at my own blog. Usually I just check to make sure a new post is up, or to go through my blogroll. I know, I should get Bloglines, I know.

Anyway, I’ve also been thinking a lot about why I blog, and what I’m getting out of it. I started my blog last August, after we had settled into our new house and I was pretty much waiting out my pregnancy. I was reading blogs, and found myself starting to think in terms of what I would write about if I had a blog. My experience with journal-writing has been spotty at best. I had journals, or diaries if you will, and I would occasionally write in them, but it was never a pour-my-heart-out kind of thing. More like once in a while I would pick it up, try to think of what interesting thing had happened to me, and write it down with lots of exclamation points.

So I was skeptical about my chances for actually keeping a blog going. I figured I would write a few posts, forget about it, and then remember months later that I even started it at all. Instead, I found myself getting seriously addicted to the whole thing. Yes, I said addicted. I don’t have any other vices-almost never drink alcohol, don’t smoke anymore, don’t gamble or shop compulsively. I needed something. Something that I could call mine.

I love being a “Professional Mom”, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been doing it for 7 years now and can’t imagine doing anything else. But one thing I’ve always thought was missing from my life was something that defined me. When I filled out message board profiles I always got stuck on the question about my hobbies. Hobbies? Other than coming up with 7 dinners a week that everyone in my family will like and won’t take more than 30 minutes to cook? Other than paying the bills and keeping the checkbook balanced? Does reading for a few minutes before passing out on my pillow at night count?

So…my very first post was August 29, 2005. I was shocked when I got 3 whole comments, one from our very own MotherGooseMouse; thanks again J! I tried my hardest to make my posts interesting, and witty, and funny if I could. I decided not to use the profanity that usually graces my speech because I didn’t want to offend anyone (and then I got to know Dawn ;) Much to my surprise I found the same people commenting each time I posted, so I commented on their posts, and so on and so on. I was so happy to be part of a community.

Chelle suggested I write about how I felt the first time I figured out how to make my blog my own. I wanted a blogroll so badly. I wanted to recognize the blogs I loved, and the people who had made me feel welcome and appreciated. I just was terrified to mess with the template. I was sure that I would do the wrong thing and crash the whole system or something. One night I asked my personal Computer Support Technician, aka my husband, if he would help me figure out the blogroll thing. We worked through it slowly, step by step so that I would be able to do it myself eventually, and let me tell you when I saw the link appear on my site, I was over the moon. I couldn’t believe that I had actually created something that was appearing on the Internet for everyone to see. I had conquered my fear of trying new things and failing, because I hadn’t failed. It was a big moment for me and my feelings of self-worth.

I know there are a lot of really good blogs out there. Almost every day I find one that blows me away; today for example I found The Reign of Ellen and wanted to stay and read all her archives in one sitting. I know I am just one tiny blog, and I am starting to understand the fluidity of the blogosphere. People read your blog, maybe more than once, maybe they leave a comment or two, and then they move on to other blogs, and it’s nothing personal. I know this.

And yet, it still bugs me when someone seems like they’re becoming a regular reader, commenting and even emailing me, and then they disappear. I want to send them a note like in Junior High: “Do you like me? Check One Box: Yes No Maybe”. I worry that I offended them in some way, with something I wrote about, with a comment I made that was supposed to be funny but was offensive instead. Not that I think I’ve ever been offensive, but who knows?

I’ll keep blogging, not for the comments but for me. It lets me get things off my chest, work out problems and solutions, record what’s happening in my life. I can’t remember what happened last week let alone last year; now I have a written record to remind me. It’s like the diary I always meant to start. I won’t stop pouring my heart out this time, and I’ll try not to use too many exclamation points either.

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