Under tremendous pressure from my husband, here I am. I've been gone long enough, I suppose. One reason I haven't blogged in a while is that my precious, adorable, sweet Finley has recently become HELL ON WHEELS.
Okay, okay. Maybe not hell. A great big bundle of curiosity and mayhem might be a more accurate description. But I ain't kiddin' about the wheels. There's no way she could move that fast on two feet.
Here's just a sampling of her most recent...activities.
...she applied anti-wrinkle cream to her face, legs, hands, overalls, and our bathroom wall.
...she was caught eating peanut butter out of the jar with an ink pen.
...she dumped out an entire, brand new box of Cheese Nips onto the couch.
...she drew on her eyelids, legs, the bottom of her feet and all over her toes with blue marker. The she strolled up, put her little chin on her hand, and said, "Wook at me, Mommy," with a big ol' smile.
...she was caught trying her best to dip peanut butter out of the jar with a pop tart.
...she poured a box of baking soda all over the kitchen counter.
...she was found stirring her bath water with the toilet brush.
...she walked through the living room carrying two big handfulls of peanut butter. (Heck, who can blame her? She's seen me do that exact same thing often enough.)
...she poured out a carton of strawberry yogurt on the counter, then I found her rubbing it all over her torso.
So there you go. I've been busy.
But here's the other reason...ok, the real reason I don't blog much.
I just don't get it.
When I started this blog a couple of years ago, I did it as a way of staying in touch with my out of town friends. But it seems like blogging has taken on a whole new meaning since then.
Now, it's a way to showcase your sparkling wit. Or share your deep, theological musings. Or bring a tear to the eye with your emotional transparency. Or crack your readers up with your clever comedy. Or amaze people with your command of the English language.
I've pretty much got none of that. I don't have much to say really, and I can't imagine anyone wanting to read what I do have to say.
I can't imagine that anyone would be interested in the fact that today, I did laundry, took the car to the shop, came home and put Finley down for a nap, then ate a bowl of Blue Bell ice cream and watched Jon & Kate Plus 8 while Jonah played a game on the computer.
Or that Jonah and I got really excited when our favorite episode of SpongeBob Squarepants came on. (Band Geeks, in case you're wondering.)
Or that one of the highlights of my day was when I got to hold the new cat. (A new cat wandered up about 2 months ago. He's best friends with our old cat, Henry, but he won't let us go near him. He's really small, and I think he's a wild cat. I gave him a pound of ground beef that I thawed but never cooked, and while he was eating I picked him up. He looked down his nose at me then hopped down. But still, that's progress, right?)
Or that Finley lamented all afternoon that the two turtles Todd found in the driveway yesterday have now gone home. (I don't mean dead...just left.)
That's my life. Not theology. Not sparkling wit. Not comedy (although I am quite clever.) The exciting things that happen around here wouldn't excite anyone else. But I wouldn't trade it for anything I read on other blogs. I love it.
I just don't love to blog about it.
However, I have to do something to make up for the fact that I didn't participate in the groundbreaking "My Friday" movement. Which I was repeatedly asked to do. Even on Saturday. So, here I am.