Emu

Like I have time to blog.

But, somehow, I am going to find the time (I think I can, I think I can!!). Between tantrums, tangles, and tea parties, there is far too little time for anything else. With whatever time is left, I manage to drive 75 miles to work, put in 8 hours, drive 75 miles home, take online classes, and try to clear a path to the necessary rooms within the house. I can't help but laugh that this morning I had to avoid a school bus, a cow, a pig, and a horse, and that is all before I made it to the bathroom. Guess even the things I try to accomplish everyday don't manage to happen. Saying life is busy is an understatement.

Oh, and my darling husband. Most every night we manage to lay our heads next to each other. Most days, that is the only time we breathe. Did I mention life is busy?

So why on earth would someone with so little time start a blog? To be honest, I have fought the urge for a while now. I love, capital L-O-V-E, love to write. I share the same love of hearing people laugh. This will be a learning experience. This will be a challenge. I hope this will be fun.

As with every beginning, there must be certain elements. No matter what is beginning there are certain things that are present. Here they are:

1. Fear. Every beginning is scary, but fear in a way that is also exciting. I think back to when Little Foot was born. You could say I was freaking out (yet another understatement). There was and still is fear. My fear with starting a blog is that my life will be put on display. People will form opinions and may not see my true spirit. If I disclose a shortfall, I will be judged. But what would I do if I weren't afraid? I'd blog.

2. Confusion. What will I blog about? What should I use this opportunity for? I don't know. Will it be all about life as a mommy? Life as a wife? Life as an employee? Life as a student? Maybe. Regardless, it will be about life. The good, the bad. It will be raw. And, most of all, it will be real.

3. Instruction. This applies to every female who has rescued her husband from a tangle of wires, a variety of nuts, bolts, and screws, or a pile of wood by simply picking up and reading the instructions. You can admit it. It's safe here. The first thing those adorable guys do is toss the instructions to the side, determined to do it all by themselves, like big boys. After 30 minutes and bringing him a paper towel (why do they always ask for a paper towel?), right about the time he asks for a baseball bat, I step in and unofficially save the day. Maybe you can learn a lesson from some experience of mine.

For example, yard chickens do not fly when approached by a vehicle. In addition, another yard chicken will sit and watch his friend, well, you know.

4. Love. I have already expressed a love for writing. But it's about more than that. It's about a love of people, of memories, and of sharing. I have a love of people. I love the unlovable. I want a emu. (Okay, an emu is an animal. To me, animal=person). My husband snickers every time I mention my desire. I really don't listen, but he always tells me some kind of reason why I don't want an emu. I think they spit, or bite, or make a mess, or something. Well, so do kids. I want an emu.