Starting...in the middle

Blogging. Yikes.

Not sure if I ever saw myself a blogging sort of mom. Nothing against those who do, but like cooking or scrapbooking or knitting, it seems to be something of a personal interest. It's for moms who have families scattered across the United States; their worlds most likely include Skype as well. All of my Dutch family has plunked right here in good ole' West Michigan.

So who would want to read this?

Apparently I have one friend who does. She lives in bustling, rat-raced New York City; she is not married and has no children, and yet for some reason she wants to read about mine.

Mine? Are you serious? They're my kids, so they're special to me, but I can't imagine their daily ins-and-outs being anything interesting to others. So if you find yourself here, reading this, I pray I do not bore you to tears.

It's not that I don't have an interest in blogging. Writing has always been a passion for me (despite my sophomore creative writing teacher's evil desire to kill it out of me). I also thought when I began having children that along with keeping a picture scrapbook of what they looked like growing up, I would also create a writing scrapbook of their moments to capture who they were as they grew from infancy through toddler-dom into little people.

My oldest is 3 1/2 and my youngest is 18 months. How am I doing on that?

So maybe this is my way to keep up on their lives and try to become the mother I want to be. And maybe if this blog goes well I'll start up on gourmet cooking and sewing, or at least knitting.

I only fear (and therefore hope) that I can do a better job of staying on top of my children's lives and write about the important, the special moments in their lives. And I hope that you find it a worthwhile read. But I also hope that some of it is humorous to you, because if we don't laugh through parenting we are left with nothing else but tears. I hope you can chuckle at my mistakes and know that none of us are perfect parents, but we're all just trying the best we can. And I hope, after all of that, I can still put a warm meal on the table, count the number of dust bunnies on one hand, and never ask my children to wear their underwear inside out so we can survive one more day without doing laundry.

Organized chaos. It's the best way to describe my parenting. Please laugh with me and hold off on calling Social Services until you have built a really strong complaint.

Kim