If for nobody else, it is for me.

 Some people journal.  I am not one of them.

I get super hung up on my writing when I am using pen and paper.  A word misspelled or a sentence out of order causes me a bit of discomfort.  I tend to want to rip out the page and start over, trying for a perfected edition of my thoughts. I also get really hung up on missing days.  A daily journal should be daily right?  When I get out of the habit or I'm too busy and miss a few days, my mind tells me there is no point in continuing to try.

I realize this makes no sense but it is just the facts.

I was equally horrible at keeping up with the boys' baby books and don't get me started on my failed scrapbook attempts.  There is something about the requirement to keep up or accurately log something that just overwhelms me.

Fun fact.  This is also why I don't collect souvenirs from places we travel.  The idea of needing to get the same thing from every place I go brings on high levels of anxiety and the thought of not getting the souvenir on occasion (gasp) is just tragic.

Obviously, I have not always been a faithful blogger, in fact there have been times where an entire year has gone by without so much as a dot on a blog post, but there are words here in the great big internet that came from my brain and will live on forever or until the internet breaks.  Maybe the posts will be something that my kids read some day and get a little insight into who I was while they were young, maybe someone finds them and is comforted or encouraged by them, but at the minimum these thoughts that I have written here have become something of gift for myself.

In these pages I am reminded of hurt and healing, trials and victories, I am reminded of funny things that happened in my life or sweet moments that could go unnoticed in the catalog of my memories.  Someone once mocked me for writing a blog, she said "who would want to read it?"  Maybe not a single person other than myself, but if that were true, it would still be worth it.  

Sometimes I go back and read previous posts.  I laugh, I cry, I remember where I was when I wrote the post and consider how far I've come or encourage myself that I can get through tough things.

There are things we do for others, and some things we do just for ourselves.  Both are valuable.  So, as long as I am able, and make time to do it, I'll write my thoughts here - if for nobody else but myself.