After much debate I have decided to split my blog into two blogs. I will continue to have this blog for the boys. It will have all things about them, for them. I will start a new blog for myself. A place where I can safely write about whatever else I want to write about – all the stuff that has “nothing” to do with my kiddos. (Even though I actually think all of it has to do with them because I am the one raising them and how I feel on subjects and what I do in situations completely affects them day in and day out.) I really hate to split it – in fact I am not really sure how to even do that yet. I am exactly who I am and I don’t know how to segment it into two boxes. I just write how I feel and never look back. To leave certain thoughts for one blog and not the other seems odd – even wrong to me. I am not embarrassed or ashamed in anything I have written – not even a tiny bit. Just like my bio says:
I am a daughter, mother, big sister, faithful friend, tell-it-like-it-is, fresh-mouth, open-minded (when I agree), sarcastic, love to laugh, picture addict, dog lover, sunshine and roses, ultimate procrastinator, drama-hater, never says no, multi-tasker, hostest with the mostest, over-thinker, will always be known as a Willard girl, and the Mays boys mom!
If I am all of those things then why shouldn’t I write what I want, when I want and how I want? The reason why is because it’s causing too much stress in my life. I will reluctantly split it – although I think it’s going to mess up the dynamic of the blog - this story I am documenting – the story of my life and the boys’ life. This is who we are at this time period. To edit it or separate it will never tell the whole story. Isn’t that a disservice to my writing? I really write it all for Nolan and Hudson anyways. I want them to know who their mother was – through and through. My thoughts, my feelings, my opinions. I wish I had that from when my mother was raising me – I think I could learn so much from reading something like that. I think it would make me a better parent, heck maybe it would have even made me a better spouse. They aren’t going to read it now – they are going to read it “then” – when it counts, when I am possibly gone, when they are going through similar things. Then they will know me – really know me. They will see their life through my eyes. Maybe years from now I can combine it all again. Maybe.
