I think I've narrowed down my excuses for not posting a lot lately. One of the biggest factors being time. I know everyone says they are crazy busy all the time, but I am telling you, I AM crazy busy ALL the time. When I do have a second, I push aside the guilt I have about not cleaning that bathroom that is spawning hazardous spores of substances I can't even name, because all I want to do is sit in a Toddlers and Tiaras trance on the couch. (I know, its sick and wrong, also totally addicting.) Case in point, this is our schedule this weekend: Saturday-Soccer and Lacrosse games at 8:00a (We have snack), 10:45a, 11:45a, 12:35p and 1:00p-all over town. School carnival, which Barry and I volunteer at, from 4:00p-8:00p. Sunday-Soccer and Lacrosse games at 10:45a and noon, with possible championship games at 1:15p and then 3:15p. Birthday party at 12:30p. I am pretty sure we are going to have to call for back up.

Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. I got us into this chaos. I do think it's important for the kids to be active and involved in some kind of sport. And, when you multiply that by four, this is the kind of schedule you can expect. I'm just sayin', we're busy, not a lot of blog time.

In addition, I feel inept. Let me explain. I read two blogs regularly. They are really tell-tale of the evident battle going on inside of me. The first one is this super crafty, cute and clever Creating Keepsakes' Scrapbooker of the Year. She has two kids, who always look absolutely adorable (Well, all the pictures and posts she lets the internet see anyway.) She is gorgeous and always looks fabulously put together and fashionable. She is writing a book, does photography with her also super talented husband, teaches scrapbook classes, runs marathons, makes homemade cards, clothes, bread, does media appearances, and is probably working on a solution for world peace that most likely involves some kind home-baked cookie exchange. The portrayal of her life on her blog is absolutely, sickeningly (Really. I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about it.) picture perfect. I'm not so stupid to think she doesn't have stress in real life, but still, a huge part of me believes her storybook life and wishes I had half of her talent. (Okay, all of it if I am going to be making wishes.) I think she is most likely some kind of Stepford Wife robot. I am not sure why I still read this since it sends me into a spiral of self-loathing and depression.

The second blog I read is not really the opposite, but it is definitely more genuine and real. She is an uber talented writer and her blog is fairly well known. She is famed, I believe, because she lets people in on the imperfections of her life as well as her triumphs. (Also, did I mention she is an uber talented writer?) The thing that happens after I read her blog though is that I feel so haplessly incompetent. Although she doesn't have a glamorous life, she has the ability to turn the mundane into a totally fascinating story and by the end I feel like her best friend because I'm like, YES! I've been there! I can relate to that on so many levels! And, I am rolling on the floor laughing since she has a dry, witty, sometimes raw, sense of humor. (ROFL-Tanner taught me that. I always feel like I have lost IQ points after reading the text messages between him and his friends. They are seriously able to say absolutely nothing in over 3,000 texts a month.) Her analogies and depictions are so spot on hilarious. But, I'd never be able to describe the same thing in the same enthralling way she does. So, I finish reading a post and I think, I can't post now, my attempt will be so pitiful. I will never live up to that, so why even try?

But, lucky for you, although I don't have a lot of natural creativity or writing talent, I do have a lot of perseverance. So I guess I'll keep this going even though I won't be winning any blogging awards. I suppose that's okay since I really started this more as a record for me anyway. I think I just need to recommit to adding more journaling. I want to remember the moments even if I can only describe them as mundane because these little mundane moments make the whole of my life which I love.