Archive for December, 2013
I think this started as a bit of a laugh to be honest.
Ok. Maybe a bit more than that. Once I had a toddler. Toddlers make you tired and ranty and exasperated and exhilarated and tired and soppy and mad and amazed and engaged and apathetic and tired and happy and argumentative and tired. But that wasn’t even the thing. The toddler grew up and became Boy, a loving sensitive intelligent child who could wash himself and brush his teeth and use the TV remote and sleep through the night in his own bed. So of course then we did something stupid and wonderful and we had another baby.
Then, suddenly, I had another toddler on my hands. Second toddlers – because they come with an older sibling, and especially if they’ve been walking since they were ten months and have a unique ability to destroy everything in their path – just make you tired and ranty. At some point I saw a unique opportunity, through how the internet was becoming accessible to all (unless you’re North Korean or Chinese or Mongolian or five months old or my dad or an actual womble) to put my ranty, toddler related, tiredness out there and exaggerate it a bit to take the edge off my madness and maybe make a couple of other people laugh. Buggy wars, unimaginable teething shits, wanton destruction of property and the odd banning of stuff. They’re all here somewhere, but you have to look for them. Hard. And that’s the point.
Looking at the recent posts section just now I realise I have not really written about that sort of stuff at all for a while. Oh, there’s a lifestyle piece about travelling with your kids on holiday to Spain that’s vaguely amusing – at least I hope – and then it seems to be politics, education and food and much, much more serious than earlier pieces.
Frankly you must be confused.
I don’t have a toddler anymore and there is a section on here that explains why I won’t have one again. The stuff that interests me and engages me as a writer has changed completely to being more about how the world around us aids and prevents us from getting on with the business of living. Raising kids is part of that of course but it’s not the whole. I’m interested in how we feed ourselves and educate our young people. I’m interested in railing at the politicians who’s contribution to this is to give us a little, friendly downhill shove in the right direction before putting an enormous great big mountain in the way, all the time with their own noses apparently firmly in the trough.
I still like a good fart gag though. *WAAAARRRRP* See? Windy.
I have also rediscovered a love for fiction by reading more of that recently instead of just newspapers and columnists. I should really try and write more of that because someone respected once said I should and I have let them down with my complete inability to do so thus far.
The other thing is that blogs should be on a reasonably consistent subject, so the rules say. They should be updated regularly. It’s good to socialise and take part in linkies etc. I do none of this. I’d like to but my time is limited and my brain is completely random. I write when I can and that means I write about what’s on my mind when I can.
I’ve realised though that you wouldn’t even be able to tell that from my category list over there *points at baffling category list*
I have therefore decided to end this particular blog here before it disappears in to irrelevance and, instead, become random in an organised way. I have stared Not A Proper Blog though there is no content on it yet. That will be coming shortly. What is there already are proper categories:
It will not be a parent blog. I have grown to loathe the term. It will not be updated regularly. The chances are, like SSD, it will not have many pretty pictures or whizzy gadgets because I’m not very good at them. In short, what it won’t be is a proper blog, because, well, that’s its name.
What it will have is writing in organized categories that can be easily found or searched for. The writing will adhere to the categories. Maybe some guest posts and more than half an hour a year on appearance, if you’re really lucky. I hope to see all three of you over there.