I started my blog two years ago and as you know, most of them are about
the little man in my life. Almost nauseatingly so. I was thinking earlier, as I
started yet another “he’s so talented/smart/funny” story, whatever would I
write about if it weren’t for him?
My job? Writing, tweeting or posting about where I work is forbidden.
Since I don’t want to get fired, I pretty much don’t do it. Oh, but the stories
I could tell…
My free time? To be honest, I don’t have much of that to speak of. What
little I have is spent writing and spending time with him (and his mother, of
course). It would sound kind of like “I went to work today. Then I came home
and ate dinner. After playing with someone I’m not writing about just now, I
turned on my computer and began writing…” See? Kind of like a fourth grade
essay and hopefully not my style.
My family? That would be my girlies and, yes, my little guy. We love
spending time together, although time with my younger girl is via Skype. I’ve
written about my daughters (as much as I can without running the risk of making
them hate me) but they really don’t do anything cute or funny anymore. I’ve
already written about their childhood. Their adulthood is pretty much normal
(read boring). Who wants to write about normal?
My life? Currently my life is all about fire stations as we are
currently touring every one in the city. And NOLA after that. “Our” latest obsession. And if I wrote
about that? Well, it would be just another story about the boy and that totally defeats
the purpose. I added the photo because it relates to this paragraph, not because it's the guy I'm currently not writing about. Honestly...
My dreams? Oh, I have so many. Some are attainable. Some not so much.
But I never want to give up on any of them. I will finish that novel. I will be published. I will win the Mega Millions…ok, maybe not that one. If I played
the Mega Millions (which I don’t), I would have a chance of winning. Not a good
one but a chance nonetheless. But if I write about my dreams, I’d be afraid
that someone would read it and ask me in a few years “Weren’t you going to…?”
Then I’d be stuck.
All in all, I believe that I’m better off writing the “he’s so
talented/smart/funny” story. My guy makes a good subject, is never boring and
is always coming up with new ideas that make me laugh or cry or think. Besides, he's just so stinkin' cute, how can I resist?
Stay
tuned. The boy will return for the next blog.
