Test Blog #1: Loving my blogs from afar
I love my blogs a lot… from afar. I have several blogs that sit largely abandoned on the hosting site. They are all lifestyle and home related, all were brought into existence with passion and love, but I can’t find the focus and energy to consistently post to any of them. I’m starting to think I’m only addicted to the “idea” of my blogs, because despite the lack of attention they get, I still shell out for the hosting and reregister the domain names when I get the reminders.
Lost on The Way To Blog
Some days I wake up and spend the entire day trying to get to the computer to get some blogging time in. I am the only adult in my house though. My roommate is my five year old daughter. I will never cry the blues about being a single mom, but you are the only one that is going to get the things done that need to be done. And trust me, my daughter does not make it easier. I adore her, she’s a wonderful child, but she is five. She is messy and into everything. She has lots of ideas for me, and, for that matter, I have a long list of things I want to do with her each day. We are mutual distractions. We stay busy all day.
Every now and then, I will go searching for the forgotten passwords (since it’s usually been a while since I last used them and inevitably I forget them). She senses my concentration. She could get absorbed in playing with Barbie dolls for an hour, but the minute I sit down at the computer, she smells that I’m doing something that requires a little of my focus. Within minutes she will be in the bathroom yanking my eye shadows out of the drawer and asking if I mind if she puts green eye shadow on my cheeks. (For the record, the answer is usually “yes.” She will only be little once.)
And when I do get alone time with my blogs?
Every once in a while, I actually manage to sit down at my desk and get logged into one of my blogs. I usually start out excited about the topic of my post, but I begin to struggle over the mechanics of what I am writing and question the content. The clock starts ticking and I begin to feel guilty. The list of “to do’s” starts going through my head. Often I find myself wondering about things like “Did I pay the phone bill yet?” A thought like that almost always means the end of my blogging time is near. Inevitably, I will have to click open the AT&T site, just to check the due date and quiet my brain. Once I find myself off my blog site, my thought off my topic, who knows what other “must do’s” will pop into my head. And if I wait long enough, my little pumpkin will come in asking me to help her put on her Belle costume… it doesn’t matter. The end result is the same. Another half written entry will sit there for a month until I come back and no longer remember my train of thought or feel interested in the topic. This has happened over and over, too many times to possibly count.
Is There Hope?
Clearly, I never give up hope on my blogs. The file folder on my nightstand is stuffed full of papers and post-its with topics and ideas I want to add… when there is time. Alex Reid’s article “Why Blog? Searching for Writing on the Web” (https://uwstout.courses.wisconsin.edu/d2l/le/content/3019142/viewContent/17759448/View) presents a novel idea. Blogging doesn’t have to be a major event on my schedule. I don’t necessarily have to clear up a whole block of time. He mentions devoting just 10 minutes, a couple of times a week (p. 313). He even talks about using a mobile device for frequent short posts (p. 314). And Reid doesn’t seem alone in this idea that a blog can be done regularly without taking up lots of time. Nardi, Schiano, Gumbrecht and Swartz echo this idea in “Why We Blog” (https://uwstout.courses.wisconsin.edu/d2l/le/content/3019142/viewContent/17759450/View) when they note that some bloggers post once a month (p. 42). Instead of feeling guilty for neglecting my blogs or feeling pressured to write a full-length article I could start with baby steps… habitual baby steps. Even on the busiest of days, there is a good possibility I can lock myself in the bathroom with a tablet for ten minutes, before anyone notices I’ve left the room.