Warning: we are about to enter the stage in our relationship disaffectionately known as "TMI." You see, part of the vanity in writing a blog is that you begin to think everything that happens to you is blog-worthy. A hazard of the trade, you might say. Come to that, I often wonder if it’s not narcissistic even to start a blog in the first place. If I want to remember recipes or what my kid said, why not just keep a paper journal? (I do that too, by the way). I guess what it boils down to is that I’m not a good enough writer to come up with interesting ideas all the time, but I’m not composed and self-controlled enough to stop myself. It’s like I’m the unfunny Seinfeld. Help, I’m drowning in a sea of verbal diarrhea! TMI?
I mentioned to my beloved husband this idea that I might sometimes blog about mundane topics, and he raised his eyebrows and said "Yeah" with a little too much emphasis. Hmmm, point taken. One of the reasons I keep him around, actually, is that he’s not afraid to tell me when I’m being boring or if I have spinach in my teeth. Buddies are good about letting me know too, like when I ask who’s seen Winnie the Pooh and hear that it’s "a sad day when you’re looking for Pooh reviews." Sigh, true that.
In the spirit of TMI, allow me to share some potential blog posts that in a moment of clarity and good editing got cut from the ranks:
- I love the spray thingy on the sink
- Why does nasty goop end up everywhere when I roast a chicken?
- Is it just me, or do parents go through a s**t-ton of batteries?
- Me and my washing machine: it’s complicated
- Gross object on the floor is bigger than it appears
It isn’t just that I occasionally share disgusting or bland details better left to the annals of parenthood that gives me pause. In an attempt to fix the long-standing problems with the blog’s comments, I decided to make it searchable by engines, figuring that more public = less firewalls, spam blockers, etc. I am also tweeting the posts that I think might be interesting to others not in my fan base of five loyal readers and random drop-in Facebook friends. Publicizing my blog in this way brings up a long-running existential dilemma.
[Oh, that reminds me. I have to stop this post for a quick aimless digression in which I tell you that at one time years ago I considered calling my blog "existential dilemma," only to discover the name had been taken by somebody already. Not just somebody, but someone with a personality freakishly like mine…shares recipes and random anecdotes, loves food, family, travel, etc. "I think, therefore I blog"? Also taken. I could go on. See there? Even in the blogosphere I’m unoriginal.]
Ok, back to my predicament. I have always been somewhat afraid of the Internet. It’s a love-hate thing. I love blogging and shopping online and social networking. But then when I am being introduced to the leader of a huge organization and move in to shake his hand, and he says "I saw online that you just bought your first house," I start to wonder if it’s such a good idea to air my dirty laundry in public. As I’ve become more fond of other blogs, I’ve noticed a trend in which moms refer to their children by nicknames. In this era of over-sharing, perhaps that’s not such a bad idea. So if you start seeing "Peanut-isms," you’ll know why. Less is more, right?