Thursday, May 10, 2012

Why I Blog...

I've been thinking about blogging this week - specifically, about why I blog.

I blame Larry Hehn for my musings, as he posed the "Why Do You Blog?" question over at Christian in the Rough earlier this week.

That Larry. He always makes me think.

 But in doing so,  I realized that the "why" behind my blog has changed - as my children have grown, as I have, so too, has my blog. Well, I hope it has, anyway.

In the beginning, it was simply a place to record my life as a mum, little snippets of life with the Reds and our journey as a family.  I thought perhaps my mum would read it, maybe my aunties across the pond. For the longest time, I thought that only those who love me and the Reds would be interested in the stories that make up our days together.

 Mostly, that is still what this blog is about: me telling stories to those who love us. The amazing part is that, somewhere along the way, the people who love us has grown to include all of you, dear readers. That realization has changed what I write, sort of,  but mostly it means that I've also made room for other stuff that has captured my interest and attention (and hopefully, yours):

As of this writing, my most-read piece is still a letter I wrote to my local election candidates, inviting them to visit me and convince me to offer them my vote. That post alone received almost 800 hits, approximately 700 of which happened within 24 hours of Margaret Atwood retweeting it on Twitter.

In a word? Awesome. And sort of freaky because it was the first time I felt and saw, in real time and in a very personal way, the power of social media in action. It made me feel big...and very, very small at the same time. Kinda like I felt when I became a mother, actually.

That said, becoming a mother - still, every day, learning, growing and fumbling through - remains the very core of this blog and at the core of who I am. Without my children, I might never have found my writing voice again, might never have found my way back to school, might never have found this space, incredibly loyal readers...and friends.

Blogging keeps me honest and real, sometimes painfully so. I am accountable here: to my children, to my family, to myself, to my readers. Often, I write about my failings as a parent because I need to confess it. Must be the Catholic in me. But too, I am aware that one day, my sons will read these posts and hope that they know three things:

1. How very, very much I love them,
2. How much they've taught me,
3. That their therapy sessions will be more productive if they simply direct their therapist here,
3. How much I have left to learn.

Redheaded inspirations...

I also like to think that my honesty is somehow helpful to my readers, many of whom are parents themselves.  Readers often tell me when  I've made them laugh out loud or weep into their morning coffee. I gotta say, I love when I make people cry. Wait, that's not quite what I mean...erm....uh....

Truth is, sentiments such as, "OMG, Belly, I'm bawling here!" is like food for my soul - it's so heartening to know that my words have elicited such a powerful response and that something I've written has inspired or comforted someone else.

Since returning to school, I've found that my blog might be a place of enlightenment, too. I've posted several pieces now about how studying to be a Developmental Services Worker has utterly transformed my view of the world. My not-so-quiet,  though largely unspoken hope is that some of those pieces might also change yours.

Each time I post about the people I've met whose lives are testament to the power of the human spirit, I feel like I'm writing them a very public though entirely heartfelt "Thank You."

Kind of like this post has morphed into a "Thank You" letter, too. Thank you always, to my sons for the inspiration and to all of you, dear readers, for sharing this space and these moments, with me.


And you?
Why do you blog?
If you're not a blogger, I am always happy to accept credit for blogging ideas... 


  1. You know your blog hates me so please fix any errors. I've learned not to hit the back arrow. I love how your blog has progressed. But always there is you. This wonderful voice filled with love and joy. I do laugh when you do. I do cry at some of your stories. You know how to weave a tale, Lizzie.

    And I love this: That their therapy sessions will be more productive if they simply direct their therapist here.

    Because that's funny. And all of us mommy bloggers who tell the truth in our posts worry a little about what we are doing when we share these stories about our children to the world. Thank you for letting me in to your world. For letting me hear the conversations in the baby monitor, to dance with your clients. All of it.

    I won't tell you what to write about. Just keep doing it.

  2. This is probably my most favourite comment, EVER! God love you, Renee, for having the best words at the perfect moment.