Blogworthy

You might glance at my blog and suffer from the belief that, recently, I have been in a funk.

Not true.

In my crazy mind, there is plenty to blog about.

I could have blogged about Jane's recent obsession and insistence with cooking with me.

Or how Grandma and Papa came to visit and now Papa is all Jane will talk about (morning, noon and night ... "Papa? Papa? Are you? (where are you?)"

Or how I fell face first running the other day and now have a beautiful, large scab all down my nose.

Or how Elliot turned 8-months-old. (Or how I've seen A LOT of the name Elliot (usually Elliott) lately.)

Or how Jane is learning her letters (although Super Why played a part in that) and counting (we're breaking the 1, 2 barrier ... up to 4 now).

Or I could wax on and on about how I am obsessed with my children and they fill my soul with peace and happiness, that is, when they aren't screaming at me.

It's an overwhelming feeling that my mundane life is really not that blogworthy (no this is not a fishing expedition, so refrain: Don't bolster my ego).

I mean, it's not like I am a cool mom who is constantly taking her kids out or even to play with friends.

It's not like I'm doing cool things, like running my own business, working and being a mother, or crafting up a storm. I'm cleaning the house, the kids, myself and occasionally my husband.

Just Thursday, as I listened to NPR whilst running errands I heard the report on the Olympics. The reporter for NPR at the Olympics? My good college friend.

I was (am!) so proud of Diana. I'm envious of Diana. She's done it. Everything she said she was going to do.

I mean, my kids are cute, but that's something to blog about.

And, although she has accomplished everything professionally I ever hoped to do, for my money, I'd trade any day of the week for this: