I said when I started blogging about blogging, I’d put myself out to pasture.
But please indulge me; normal complaining about my children and silliness will (hopefully) resume shortly.
When I started this blog, I was in that space that I imagine many women with small children, particularly ones suffering with reflux and general inability to sleep for more than 45 minutes at a time without waking up with a whinge on, find themselves; straddling between being really tired, angry and pissed off with the unfairness of life, and that feeling that it’s quite possible you’re actually going mad. It wasn’t quite tipping the balance into post natal depression. I could tell because I knew in my heart of hearts, that a few nights of good sleep – preferably away from the kids, in a nice hotel, with a nice warm bed uninhabited by writhing children and above all else, silence – would have seen me right. I might have locked myself in and refused to come home for a bit but it would have done me a world of good.
Sadly I didn’t quite get the opportunity for an escape, so instead I started writing a blog.
I had absolutely no idea how to make a blog. I guess I thought you just wrote stuff down, people flocked from the far reaches of the internet to read it, wow at your amazing brilliance and then maybe someone came and offered you a book deal. Bonanza.
Well, that was a steep learning curve.
If people knew what was involved in having a blog, no one would bother. In 2015, I didn’t use Twitter, I’d never been on Instagram and my HTML skills were severely lacking. But I’m nothing if not a trier, and so I thought I’d try and teach myself, and since then I have basically spent the entirety of what precious little free time I have sharing with you stories of my children and the general parenting-related crap that’s floating through my mind. And for the most part, it’s been silly, because let’s face it, small people are embarrassing and ridiculous. They have no filter, they puke and poo themselves, they act a lot like drunk adults.
Within in a few months I found out I’d been nominated for a MAD Blog Award for best newcomer. When the news came, I’d been very close to calling it a day. The creative juices hadn’t been flowing for a while and I was doubting myself, fearing I was losing it (my touch, I mean. Not my mind. That ship sailed a long time ago). The nomination gave me a boost, and even though I never expected to win (and didn’t) it was amazing to be a finalist. It kept me blogging, inspired me over again, and I had a cracking night out into the bargain so no complaints from me.
Tonight, I’ve just found out I’m a finalist in the Mumsnet Blogging Awards in the Best Comic Writer category.
One of three; sitting up there with two amazing and funny women who’ve blogged their way through their own child-related trials and tribulations in a hilarious way. I have to be honest here and say that I’m not very funny, or at least that’s what my husband tells me. I love comedy, and I love laughing, but sadly I have an inability to keep a straight face and as a result tend to chuckle my way through all my own jokes. I’m that person.
I sometimes read blogs that make me howl with laughter; tears streaming. Ones that have ‘got me’ so perfectly, I’ve saved them to read again and again.
In comparison, I’m just a bit silly. So yea, I might not win. But even if I don’t, and even if my blog doesn’t make it to a year old, if I run out of steam, it makes me so, so happy to know that in this moment, on this ridiculous journey, when I’m laughing at myself, I have you laughing along with me.
Thanks guys. You rock.