Sometimes blogging is hard

So I was reading through old blog posts from when we went to Africa, about monkeys with blue balls and how I threw up in the Indian Ocean and about how I was attacked by a CHICKEN EATING ANT, and I said to Travis "Dang! I'm really funny."
And he said for probably the billionth time in as many days "You should write about stuff on your blog besides the babies," because he thinks I'm really funny and smart. He thinks I'm interesting. He thinks I'm an okay photographer but a really good writer, which is sweet.
And makes me feel pretty special.
But writing on my blog about things besides the babies is hard, and here's a list of reasons why:


1. Pretty much the babies are all I think of, all day long.
"Example?" you beg. "Why sure."
Travis calls on Skype and is like "I'm in Cancun. Here's my awesome hotel room. Giant hot tub. Spa. Awesome view. UNDERWATER MUSEUM!?"
And I'm like "That's fine, but listen to THIS: Micah pooped more than usual today and it still smells like cheese."
And he's like "Look at my polo that makes me look like a douche bag, let me tell you about the flabby white people here, free room service, open bar, I wish you were here etc."
And I'm like "Today I was pumping and my milk was slightly more watery than usual, also Grey keeps drooling."
Because, seriously. I can't even hold conversations anymore unless they're about how often my child poops, or what my breast milk is like.

2. My audience is apparently everyone.
A)  I did not start this blog as a way to update my family. I started it for me. Because I love to write and to document. Because I want to remember how I felt and looked and was during all of THIS. ("This" being pregnancy at first, and now motherhood.)
However, my family does come to this blog for updates.  And sometimes I want to write about how my crotch feels like it's been repeatedly kicked by someone with the powerful legs of David Beckham but then I remember that this blog is where my grandpa man comes for baby updates. And I think "He doesn't want to read about my lady parts." So I don't write that blog post.
B)  And then sometimes my mother-in-law or my little sister or my aunt calls to say that she's upset and offended by something she's read on the blog, which I thought was perfectly harmless and then I'm left feeling like a total jerk when all I meant was that some people aren't that good at holding babies and I didn't mean them specifically. (And this very line, where I accuse them of being offended will probably offend someone. And it isn't meant to. And I'm sorry in advance. Because I shouldn't have singled you out specifically - but I made a rule for this post which is "no deleting after you write it, unless it's for grammatical reasons")
C) And then sometimes I want to write about the rampaging elephants who thunder around above us all day and night and the mom who vacuums at midnight (seriously?) and the dad who is the loudest talker ever, especially at 6am - when it is perfectly alright to talk quietly.
But they go to our church and I know a few people from church who read this blog and would know who I was talking about and I don't want her to read it and feel bad because honestly - she is super mom.
She is amazing. Albeit, really really noisy.
D) And then sometimes I start all my sentences with "And then sometimes."
But moving on.
Then sometimes I write all of this anyways and I am 100% sure that at least one person will be upset by this post. And then I feel guilty and delete the post, which is where lots of my posts end up. Deleted.
E) And sometimes I want to write things like "Hells yeah I do," or "Super kick-ass" or etc. where I use the bad language that makes my husband give me frowny face, but I don't because then people judge me, and also call me to tell me that I should be a better example of what mormons are like on my blog.
But sometimes mormons swear, too. And mostly I swear in jest, or when I'm exhausted, or when I stub my toe very hard in the middle of the night.
And I would like to be able to occasionally say, on the blog, "I am a kick-ass mom."
Because, seriously. I am. (I'm breastfeeding twins, yo. It's daaaaamn hard work. It's impressive.)
F) And sometimes I bump into people who I haven't seen in years and they say something about the blog and I think "Oh crap. Did I write a post about how frustrated I used to be with my stupid old youth group leader on my blog last week? Yep. I sure did. She must have read it."
G) And people like to write in comments "It's your blog, write what YOU want." And that's a pretty sure fire way to destroy all my relationships. And I don't think that having a platform to speak means you can say whatever the hell you want. (Yep. I am using the word hell, since I'm already on a roll.) Because other people have feelings too. I just wish your feelings weren't so sensitive.
My mother in law said to me last week "Sometimes I'm surprised you still have friends after some of the things you've written on the blog."
Which is crazy, because I don't think of myself as an abrasive or cruel person. I am opinionated, sure. Frustrated with other people, often. Mean? I don't think so.
But maybe I am. And I just don't know it.

3. I am melodramatic.
Yeah. My dad used to call me "The Queen of Hyperbole."
And it's true that I'm losing copious amounts of weight (20lbs, not an exaggeration). And it's true that my sons' birth was terrifying and stressful. And it's true that I am not getting any sleep.
But apparently when I write on the blog as though I am dying, people think that I actually am dying. And they show up with food, and to make me feel guilty about making them feel guilty about not helping me more.
And Travis says "Maybe you should write about things besides yourself on the blog. And maybe you shouldn't say that you only got 45 minutes of sleep when you slept for almost three hours."
"But I feel like I only got 45 minutes of sleep," I say.
And he says "But you didn't."
Which is true.
But then I'm mad.
And I want to vent out my feelings.

And consequently someone else's feelings get hurt. And their feelings are just as important as mine.
I suppose.
I mean... yeah. They are.
But still. Then I'm more mad.
Because this is my blog. Can't I write that I'm tired or hungry without people thinking what I really mean is "I'm tired and hungry and it's your fault?"
Because it's not your fault.
I would say the fault lies with two squirmy babies who never sleep when I tell them to.
Because they can't speak English.
Or because they're pretending and are disobedient.

Anyway. I'm making myself publish this right now before I chicken out, even though I haven't totally finished my thought processes.
What I wanted to say is: stop being offended by the stuff I write on my blog, there is only a very very slim chance that it's aimed at you. So snap out of it.
AND, I'm going to try to write about other stuff once a week.
I have a new goal. Maybe it will be a friday feature, where every week I write a post that isn't about my babies.
Yeah. That's it. I will do that.

And vote for me. I feel guilty asking people to vote for me, because I know it probably annoys you but whatever.
I want votes. So do it, or I'll be mad at you and write a mean blog post about what a crappy friend you are.
Or I won't.
Because I don't want to hurt your feelings. But you should vote because I'm awesome and so are my babies.