Wednesday, March 26, 2008


As an addendum to my earlier post on blogging that bugs . . .

In the "About Me" side nav-bar I often read things like this: Mother of three perfectly prim little girls and one rambunctious little boy. Wife of akin-to-Ken-doll husband. Author of six children’s books on Old Testament prophets. Loving teaching Gospel Doctrine and the blessings intertwined. Successfully developing skills in salsa dancing, tatting, water coloring, oil painting, art therapy for autistic children, quilting, scrapbooking (okay, I’m already pretty darn good at that), and French grammar. Appreciate overcast mornings, the smell of my new born baby’s head, LDS hymn cell phone ringtones, pretty stationary, all things Martha Stewart, my husband’s mussed morning hair, doing homework with my six-year-old, and having my mother-in-law live in our home in the 1200 square foot addition we added just for her last March. Life is, of course, perfect all the time.

However, merely for the enjoyment reality has the potential to bring, I wish I could stumble upon just one blog's "About Me" that read something a little more like this:

Frazzled (but happy) mother of four. Three are boys; they stink a lot and the oldest two fight plenty. One is a girl, aged two, and after having two boys before her, she's mystifying me. My husband’s a hard worker, but boy, oh, boy has he gotten fat since we married—geez, what has it been?—seven years ago. I wanted to write children’s books when I was a kid, but then I realized that raising children rather than writing for them took far too much time and I put that goal in a box with the other to-be-completeds. I like church sometimes—when I get to hear any of it that is, as I’m a foyer-mother most of the time with our new addition—and have a calling teaching, that, thankfully, is the mode by which I receive many a blessing that without that calling I’m sure wouldn’t be mine. There are so many skills that I’m wanting to develop, like salsa dancing, tatting, water coloring, oil painting, art therapy for autistic children, quilting, scrapbooking, and French grammar, but I understand there is a time and a season for everything, and with a six-month-old son, I don’t think that time or season is now. There are many things in this world I appreciate, and I’d write them here, but I need to pack up the kids to go pick up my oldest from school and let the dog out before we leave.

I realize they’re both a little longer than your average blog’s "About Me," but with faith in the superior intellects of my readers, I'm positive you do get the general idea.

And with that, I think I might be done harping for now.


Sue said...

That's why I don't so "About Me," it would be fiction.

Sue said...

Oh dear, I just read a "About Me" about someone and I am ready to curl up in the fetal position and pull the shades..

Why do people do this to us???

whitneyingram said...

Don't apologize. It was poetry.