Good Friday

This is my first Good Friday (and Easter, I suppose) since becoming an official, card-carrying, learned-the-secret-handshake, CHRISTIAN. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, but I am going to pop into church after I drop my kids at kindergarten and partake in some of the Jesus stuff they've got going on. I've been pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to worship the Lord and feel a sense of community at my church. Say what you want to about the whole Hipster Christian Movement, but it's worlds apart from the churches I was dragged to as a child. The judgmental, snooty dickbags who left such a bad taste in my mouth for decades and who give Christianity a bad name are nowhere to be found. In fact, there's nothing but love - I've felt completely accepted, appreciated, and welcomed at my church - even as a mom of a noisy, misunderstood child whose special needs are often mistaken for chronic brattiness. It's a beautiful thing.

Why blog?

I blog. I'm a blogger. I've been a blogger for quite awhile now, and when I first started it, I loved it. Blogging was something I really got into. I love to write and share stories about my life and my kids. I love to read passionate blogs where people take the most mundane, boring stories and turn them into something special and magical. It's comforting to know that I can reach out and find another person going through the same stuff I am, and dealing with it in similar ways. I love knowing that we're all in it together. Most of all, I love it when I find someone who has a lot on their plate, and they talk about it with grace and humor. It's what inspires me.

Somewhere along the way, I shared the fact that I blog and I'm a blogger with a few too many of the wrong people. I used to write about everything on my mind, and my writing was truly an outlet for me. Crazy Life + Blog = Sane Mama. Now that I realize my audience includes people my husband works with, teachers who know my children, and lots of folks in my neighborhood, my blog is just a shadow of what it once was. I read through old entries and it frustrates me - I used to write so well. I wrote funny, touching stories. I talked about what my life was REALLY like, behind closed doors. Now, I post pictures of my children at the park. I feel so conspicuous - and, dare I say, judged - that I completely censor my writing now. It's unsatisfying. 

This is not the first time I've started a shiny new blog with the intention of finding my writing mojo. It is, however, the first time I've done it without telling anyone. We'll see how it goes for awhile.