A blog post about a blog post. 

Thank you.

Were I a normal, efficient woman, I might leave it as such. Simply thank you. The core of this post and two simple words. However, since my preference is to write stories, I wish to elaborate on this ‘thank you’ (and those I wish to be the recipients) in a long dramatic fashion. Perhaps with pictures.

Two and a half years ago, with newly minted 1, 3, 6 and 7 year olds under my roof, I began TickingTimeMom as a time capsule. My initial goal was to preserve the memories of our daily life because I knew I wouldn’t remember them in thirty years.

Or thirty seconds.

I vividly remember hitting SUBMIT on that first post. The blood rushed to my feet and I was so panicked about putting my feelings out there. You know….. there. The space where others read and judge and pick apart and judge and criticize and judge. It was not a divisive or controversial post by any means but I was petrified.

Your responses to the mere fact that I’d chosen to write a few words and publish them were kind and encouraging and enough to keep me writing. So I wrote and documented and verbalized our crazy. I found joy in expressing our family current events and even more joy in making you, my dear reader, chuckle. Or pause. Or remember. Or wipe a tear.

The exercise became part of my weekly routine and a task I enjoyed. It was also a bold reminder for me that so many people are amazing cheerleaders. What began as a digital, word based scrapbook of wild family memories turned into therapy.

 Cheap and fairly effective therapy.

 I poured my soul into many of these posts. Sharing what some of you might feel is too much information, but as the initial goal of documenting shifted to sharing, the writing became balm for my mom soul. The results have been the best therapy a gal could ask for. Not only in the catharsis of the actual writing process but in the feedback from many of you. And yet again, the motives for my writing moved to sharing common stories, shared interests and failings. Stories and occurrences that so many of you are experiencing. Or did experience. Selfish on my part, really, because your ‘me too!’ and ‘happens to the best of ’em!’ has kept me afloat.

So many of you thanked me for verbalizing your feelings. For putting into words what you endure each day, be it the chaos, laughter or monotony. But it is each of you who deserve the gratitude. For you have allowed me to feel like I’m never alone in my frustration or craziness or grief or wild mayhem. The reciprocation of your own stories has offered me belly laughs and tears and, many times, fodder for my next blog post.

Thank you.

I love making others laugh. LOVE it. I truly believe that if I can take a situation and somehow pull a laugh out of it, even in my saddest seasons, everything might just be okay. You have shared stories that provided laughs but you’ve allowed me to share my own funnies and know they’re resulting in chuckles on the other side. 

Thank you.

There have been a few times in the last year where my work has been published to a greater reaching audience. I will not lie……each time I received an acceptance or request for submission of work I was giddy. But I can promise you from the depths of my soul it has been the comments from my near and dear ones, not strangers, that has been an utter gift.

Time and time again.

Each comment you provide about one of my posts is read and treasured. I imagine artists feel fullest joy when others view their creation. Much the same with a little mom blogger who absolutely loves it when people read her crazy posts. I cannot properly put into words my appreciation for your responses. To put a piece of work out ‘there’ and have people enjoy it is a gift. To have people enjoy it and respond back is a double gift. To have people enjoy it, relay their feedback and proceed share it with their friends is like Christmas, birthday and lotto win all in one. So thank you to all my gift givers. Again, my selfish self thanks you so very much.

Let’s be honest…I’m typically writing in my bed wearing PJs and night cream. Matt only had to take this 38 times before it was acceptable.

To have found a passion (I do not use that word mildly because I sincerely love writing) later in the game of life has been a surprising revelation. I assumed all skill sets, gifts or talents were clearly revealed early in life. Surely after 40 or 50 or 60 years we’ve all unearthed what we’re designed to do and enjoy, right? Right?
Apparently not.

I have stumbled upon a love for something that, regardless of actual skill or success, lights my fire, fills my bucket and makes me feel like I’m fulfilling some purpose that God placed in me while still a little thought in my mother’s mind. Perhaps you’ve heard the story about the Olympic runner who became the focus for the movie Chariots of Fire. 

Harold Abrahams, who would eventually compete in the Olympics, feels divinely inspired when running. He felt that not running would be to dishonor God, saying, “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”

“Hold on a minute, Emily…….you’re a small mom blogger working off your family’s laptop. It’s not like you’re competing in the 2020 Olympics.”

So true, so true. But I feel God’s pleasure when I write. I feel the unveiling of a gift to be able to make actual sentences out of the mush that is my mom brain most days. If I never write for more than an audience of 10 or 20 or 1,000, I am SO grateful to have the realization that each stage of life brings new opportunities. That we’re never too old to start a new venture or hobby or passion or career. That people still enjoy building and lifting others up. That friends, mere acquaintances, long lost sorority sisters will celebrate your little successes.

That God reveals gifts at all stages of the game.

In a world where a lot of focus is spent on what is going wrong, who is making it go wrong and how quickly we’re getting ‘wronger’, it is nice to have a light moment.

I pray (sincerely) that my ability to give ‘atta girls’ and ‘atta boys’ has improved. That I’m able to truly relish in someone else’s joy! I may not have the same interest or passion, but if I see someone following their own passion, I hope I’m the first one to offer a back pat.

Because the list of you who have done that for me is endless.

So, back to those two simple words that would have summed up this entire post, THANK YOU. 

7 thoughts on “A blog post about a blog post. 

  1. The true gift is that your joy for writing gives everyone reading your stories so much joy. Your ‘gift’ truly keeps on giving!

  2. Life is a constant adventure and there is delight in passion to be found at all stages! Here I am, a 58 year old college student which only goes to show it is never to late to grow into yourself. Continue to write what you feel because that gift from God is a gift to us all. 🙂

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