Why Should I Blog?

So why write a blog? Isn't it the "in" thing to do these days? Wouldn't it be a really cool, responsible things for me to do? Document my life? I have always loved writing and pouring my feeling out on paper. Somewhere along the way in my life as a little girl, I got in my head that I couldn't write well. And that was that. No writing allowed. A couple of years ago, we went on a family road trip that lasted 15 months and I blogged about our travels. My main focus with that blog was to stay in touch with our families and keep a more accurate memory of our travels. Well, lo and behold, I opened a creative portal into my soul! I love to write! And wonder of wonders, people liked it. I even had comments that my writing was great and I should write a book. And due to my high need for approval, that made me feel wonderful. So what happened? Why did I stop?

Well, the RV trip ended and we now have stuff. Stuff to clean, stuff to buy, stuff to take care of, stuff to do, stuff to learn, stuff to grow, stuff to feed. Commitments! I keep saying that I want to write and I will set little goals for myself, "I will write every single morning of my life forever" and then never do it. I'm just too busy. I got quite content with our simple little life on the road and I think I am still struggling, over one year later, to integrate back into "normal". Well, normal for us anyway. We have never been "normal". I am still not sure if I am going to do this the way I would like to do this. But for this morning of forever, I am.

Positives to blogging: I get to express myself creatively. I get to document my life and more importantly, my kids lives. I can share with our distant family and friends our goings on. Maybe I will become a national hit and receive a Bloggie. I will get a book contract and then get to retire. Wait....what was I talking about?

Negatives to blogging: I don't have time. I feel guilty about not finishing yet another thing. When I blog, my family and friends feel like they are in contact with me and stop calling and writing. Seriously, a one-way relationship develops. I don't like the feeling of people judging my "bidness". I don't know who the "they" are that I think are following me around judging me, but "they" are there.

So, here I go. Thanks to Rebecca and Jill for convincing me I should blog again. It feels really nice.

So Why DOES Timothy Have Dread Locks?

I have been asked this question many times and we have gotten "the look" countless more and the simple answer is: because it is his hair! But the truth underneath that answer is a bit more complicated. Timothy has had an aversion to getting his hair cut all the way back to the first time. I have been covered in cut hair more times than I care to remember because he had to sit on my lap for the hair cuts. He has eaten his body weight in hair-covered lollipops in failed attempts to appease him. He has shed lots of tears. I have shed lots of tears. Why go through all of that you ask? Because, "the boy needs a haircut". Because he has crazy hair that looks better cut. Because I wanted to be a good mother and at that point in time for me that meant to have good looking kids. We have also shed many a tear over hair brushing. Timothy has course, boofy, tangle-prone hair so brushing has always been rocky. As his hair got longer, as the hair cuts got fewer and farther between, the more tangles came.

After a horrible, horrible hair cutting attempt over a year ago, I finally came fully to my senses.

I have been slowly getting there, but this was the proverbial straw. No more hair cuts. I didn't care how long his hair got. I vowed to not cut it again until he asked. Letting go of brushing took me a while longer. For the record, Timothy has not once ever wanted his hair brushed.

Ever. I have tried everything. Conditioner, detangler, bribes, silly songs and even harsh

words. All in an attempt to tame his hair. What I hadn't tried is letting go. Letting go of my own need to control what is his. One day, I finally had total clarity. It's just HAIR! I have been slowly breaking my child's spirit, year after year, so I could feel good about the way he looked. What was I teaching him? That his desires around his own body didn't matter? That only what I wanted him to be was important? I even told him once that he should brush his hair because other people might think badly of him. You know what he told me? "Mom, you said that we shouldn't care about what other people think". There you have it. Words of wisdom coming from my then 6 year old. He's right you know. Now none of us care what his hair looks like, what we care about is that Timothy is happy and secure in himself (in spite of us!).