It’s quiet in the house now. The two dogs are lying on the couch behind me, the cat is asleep on the spare bed and baby is snoozing in her crib. I should be doing something useful but I really don’t feel like it. I’ve been sitting around reading other people’s blogs, thinking I should write my own. Mine will never be as good as those I have read, and I’m not sure where mine is going. Maybe someday I will share my blog with someone but I don’t know if it’s even good enough for that. Probably not. Like I said, I don’t know where this will lead.
One thing I do know is that I have a few minutes to write about something. Maybe I’ll tell a story. I guess I should introduce myself? My name is I, sometimes me. I am on maternity leave because I had a little baby in January (Snugglebug). Someday I will tell you that story because I believe it’s an important one, even if it’s only important to me. I spend most days in my pjs hanging with the babe. I have a wonderful boyfriend (R) and we are going to get married in November. That’s another story. I have lots of them. None are especially important, or at least not as important as other peoples’ that I read on their blogs. Most blogs I have read all have a theme, mostly about something sad and how they overcame it. Like the one I read about this woman who married a douchebag, then divorced him and married a real nice fellow who died of cancer, and is now married to another nice man and has a nice little family. She tells wonderful stories. Or the one I read about a girl in the UK who had a little baby but she was stillborn. She is so strong. I know I would fall apart. I was so afraid something would happen to my baby when I was pregnant. Especially since Mom had a stillborn baby when I was in junior high. But that’s another story.
I don’t have many tragic stories. I’m not very poetic either, so this blog may not be very good. I’m not even sure why I want to write it. Maybe I just want someone to listen to my stories, and maybe enjoy reading them.