Post It Forward

Not too long ago, Mac and Cheese posted about how boring the blogosphere has become lately. Many people aren't posting very often lately, even less are reading, and even less than that are leaving comments. I've noticed a widespread blogging malaise over the past few summers. It gets worse during the BlogHer week, when everyone is off having fun and we sad few remaining can only sniff and bemoan our outcast state.

I'm part of the problem. Thanks to a driveway gate, some large trucks that really should be outdoors anyways and a lovely new patio set, I've discovered that my backyard can be turned into a gigantic, fresh air playpen. I'm outside a lot, as it should be. If I had some sangria and children who would let me read for five whole minutes in a row without interrupting, I would be out there all the time. Seriously. All the time.

Anyways, on to a solution. I've decided to institute a new bloggy game (or 'meme' if you'd rather - I avoid words I can't reliably pronounce..) called Post It Forward. Here's the deal: write a post sharing why and how you started your blog. You may have posted about this before, but don't cheat and link to it. Write it again. I probably missed it the first time, anyways. At the bottom of the post, choose another person to share their story, and let them know you did. If you send me the links, I'll post them on my sidebar, so everyone else can find them easier. And don't wait for someone to tag you, if you don't want to. Be a rebel! Start a new strain! Just let me know, so I can read 'em too. I need inspiration. I'll start...

Big C was 18 months, and I had been back at work for 6 months. I was feeling guilty, and cut off from the whole baby world I left when I went back to work. I was terribly bored at work (it was summer and really slow), and reading parenting websites for any advice I could get. One of them linked to MUBAR. I had no idea what a "blog" was, and was curious. Her blog linked to a lot of other ones, and I started reading them too. I had no idea all these voices were out there in the ether.

After a while, I started feeling like a stalker - reading, sharing in these lives, but never commenting. I decided to create a "mock" blog because I wondered what mine would look like if I actually had one. I chose the name No Mother Earth in a tongue-in-cheek homage to the Evil Mom's Group that I belonged to. They were SuperMoms, and I was anything but. I chose a recent picture of Big C at the cottage that looked suitably 'earthy' and was very dear to my heart because my parents were selling the cottage.

After I created the blog, I found it didn't look right, because it had no posts. I wrote two posts, just to see what they would look like. Somehow, the lovely and talented Bub and Pie found my blog, and commented on those posts. I was thrilled. And somewhat taken aback. How had she found me? I thought I was so completely under the radar that no one would ever find the blog. But I was so intrigued by the ability to post something and get a response, that I felt I had to continue.

It wasn't until six months later, though, that the idea of blogging really cemented for me. Someone put the call out to Toronto bloggers to meet up at a bar in Greektown. Completely out of character for me, shy and uncool, I decided to go. I found some incredibly lovely people that helped me put faces to the blogs, and they soon became friends. And for all the many reasons I have to continue blogging, that one is right up there at the top.

Post It Forward: I choose Kgirl. She mentioned that she might be having trouble posting things longer than 140 characters (Damn you, sweet Twitter..!)

The earth beneath my feet

Lately I've been feeling oh-so tired and uninspired. I have a lot to say, but no energy to put it into words. I needed something to lift my spirits and give me that rush I used to get every fall when starting a new school year.

So I gave the keys to my blog to my good friend Motherbumper, and had her go in and rearrange the furniture. She put up a swanky new header, and tweaked other areas, and the result is simply stunning. It brightens my day just looking at it. (In fact, if you look at my Sitemeter stats, it will probably show that I am my biggest fan.)

I feel like I have a second wind, and I have my ridiculously talented friend to thank for it. Please give her props in the comments for doing such a great job.

Motherbumper, you are my gravity.

Contested

There seems to be such a dichotomy going in the blogosphere lately. On one hand, you have the women who are posting about how blogging has empowered them, and on the other hand, you have the people who are considering whether or not to stop blogging altogether. I'm on an emotional rollercoaster these days as it is, but after reading posts on either end of the spectrum, I feel rather like the child sitting in the middle of the Chalk Circle, wondering if his two mothers are going to pull him apart at the seams.

When I read about the empowerment that blogging bestows, I am uplifted and certain that I am spending my time in a worthwhile pursuit. But everytime I read about a blogger who is quitting, or taking a vacation, my heart sinks just a little lower in my breast and my stomach turns to lead. While I don't look to other bloggers to tell me whether or not to continue, they are most certainly the reason that I do.

What makes me the saddest of all is that when someone decides to stop blogging, it's almost never seems to be because the reason that they started their blog is gone. People all have their own reasons for starting a blog, but when it comes to the momosphere, it does seem to almost always boil down to three basic reasons: they want to keep a record of their children's lives (virtual scrapbooking of a sort); they want to connect with other people for advice, support and mental stimulation; or they are working through issues of their own, and need the blog as a creative outlet. Sometimes all those reasons, and more, are present. But when they stop blogging, those reasons are all still there, but perhaps their private space has been violated, or they find that the virtual world takes too much time away from the real world.

It's sort of like watching a particularly painful divorce proceeding, where you know that the parties involved still love each other, but outside circumstances are forcing them to go ahead with the divorce anyway. And the readers are the children watching it happen, knowing that the place they went to for support, love, laughs will no longer be there. I've never been a proponent of the idea that parents should stay together "for the kids' sake", when they are miserable with each other. But it makes me sad all the same. For no reason other than that I will miss their voice.

I think that maybe - and maybe I'm being naive here, so bear with me - that we're all just suffering from the Snowball Effect. You start off blogging because you have something to say. It's fun, it's easy, it's accessible. It's an outlet. Then you start getting some comments, and you realize that people want to hear what you have to say. You write more often. And, of course, you have to visit the people who commented on your blog. And because everyone I've met so far is so interesting / witty / insightful / funny / down-to-earth / real that you have to read more, and write more. And you want to write more, and better yourself. And because this is such a wonderful caring community, there's all these amazing extras, outlets and outreaches like the Just Posts, raising money for good causes, awards. You become inextricably enmeshed. Who wouldn't want to be a part of such a community? You'd have to be crazy not to want to. But it can get to be too much sometimes, can't it? Like you're living more of your life online than in the flesh? This may not be everyone's experience, but I bet I'm not too far off target here. I'm a Type A personality myself, and I know firsthand how easy it is to get caught up in the need to do more, better.

So here's what I'm thinking - maybe we should just take the pressure off and realize that this blogging thing doesn't have to be so much of a ... big deal. I mean, does it? You don't have to post every day to make me want to read your blog. Each post doesn't have to better than the last. If I read your blog, it's because I've found in you a kindred spirit, not because I like an individual post. You don't need to get an award for me to think you're a good writer - frankly, I wouldn't be reading if I didn't already think you were. And I won't stop reading if you never comment on my blog either (eventhough I am a comment-whore). Just do what you do, and know that we'll be back because we like you. Just the way you are.

It's S'Wonderful!

So...the word on the street is that it's International Delurking Week. I don't know how I missed the memo. Somebody should really fire my secretary. It was probably mentioned when I fell asleep in the meeting last week. Damn. I should have guessed that something was up when everyone else was laughing and patting themselves on the back. (I assumed that they were laughing at the drool running down my chin. Seriously, they don't make coffee strong enough to keep up a mother who has only had four hours sleep thanks to a Baby-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless.)

So, c'mon! What's up with the lurking, people? Why not just leave a comment to let a girl know that you stopped by? Don't you know that I'm up to all hours of the night making sure my posts are perfect? (Disclaimer: "Perfect" is used in a relative way here. My posts are as perfect as a vapid-brained, non-writer can make them.) Mr Earth would attest to the hours I spend blogging. He ain't gettin' enough, and he ain't happy about it...

So, if you're feeling kinda neighbourly, please say "Howdy". My vanity would love you for it...