Sometimes this place, this address of sweetmamak.com, feels less and less homey. As far as hobbies go, it is not a very enlightening one. There is a lot of effort with little reward, at least in the moment. The reaping being best enjoyed when the girls are older and my memories are faded. But for now, each post requires a precise tax of two naptimes (one to write, one to edit, and even then, I often hit publish after reading it for a total of 12 times, only to read it again in the different font of the blog and still catch mistakes. All the while knowing, with the shame visible on my cheeks, that my email only readers will never see the post-publish edits I make).
Two naptimes feel heavy these days, especially during the school year, but hopefully less in the summer. As summer has been underway now for two weeks, my pet projects have begun, first with editing Sibby’s baby book, and secondly with quadruply backing up my photos (yes, I’m kind of a nut about this). With these abounding, there has been a lot less time for sewing. That’s okay because I hit a dry spell for a while (and sometimes question if the girls really even need another outfit??) but just yesterday purchased a new pattern so that has me dreaming up some new plans and has the creative juices flowing again.
The discouragement comes often, and heavy at times. I just read an Instagram post yesterday that questioned if anyone reads blogs anymore. The overwhelming response was “no”. And I sadly, had to agree. There are only two blogs (that regularly post, I’m not talking about my friends’ blogs which I lick up like a thirsty dog to an ice cream bowl whenever they post something) that I regularly read. There’s just not time anymore. It takes too long to jump through the links. It seems that immediacy and brevity has replaced leisure reading and storytelling.
But storytelling is my niche, and frankly something that I often aspire at which to be better (I even wrote that sentence awkwardly to avoid the hanging preposition). I confess I am not good at small talk (and being very introverted), often dread it. When I am headed to an event that will require it, I spend time mulling over stories I can tell and how best to deliver them. A benefit to being the new girl in town means I get to go to a lot of events where there are no overlapping acquaintances and therefore have many chances to hone my stories over several tries to get the punchline just right.
Sometimes I get frustrated with the slow of the blog. With how I am never happy with a post if I publish it the same hour that I write it (I like to give it at least 24 hours to marinate before I edit and ultimately post it). With how I often think up stories to tell while I’m running, or driving, or nursing (the only times where I seem to have headspace these days). With how bad Siri is at translating my voice to notes during these times. With how my daily readership has decreased with the popularity arc of Instagram (but my email readership has likewise gone up).
All that being said, I am still here. Still thinking up stories to tell you. Though, I confess my writing has slowed considerably this summer, if not the past two years. I hope this post to be my entrance back into it, now that my scrapbooking has almost come to a satisfied completion and I am not itching to jump right back into sewing. I also wrote the beginning of this post almost 6 weeks ago and then forgot about it. But I somewhat purposely forgot about it because I question if I haven’t written this same “apology” or “is anyone out there that still cares?” post many times and quite frequently in the past two years. I believe I have but 6 weeks later, I still find a lot of truth in the words, so I decided to pull the trigger. Humor me for now. As I hit the publish button, I’m on my way to create some new content coming your way soon.