Insanity is hereditary. You can catch it from your kids. - Erma Bombeck

So, I had to start a new blog. Apparently, I have somehow met my limit for uploaded pictures on my old blog and now blogger wants to charge me for this service (even though I erased a bunch of pictures from old blog posts...fishy, don't you think?!?). Instead of spending the moolah, I just decided to start a new blog.

Now, I know that in 2012, blogging is about as archaic as cd walkmen

Tamagotchi

and "The Weakest Link"

but here's the dill (no, I did not mis-spell that word; I am from Utah, so it is pronounced "dill" and not "deal"): This is the best way for me to create some form of journal/history. I know that the trendy thing is to be witty enough to sum up the moment of your life in a Facebook Post or a humorous Tweet. However, long ago I accepted the fact that I am neither witty nor intelligent; simply long-winded. While these are my thoughts and my images and my interpretations, I am determined to preserve these thoughts, images, and interpretations in the most honest way possible, while trying to err on the side of optimism rather than pessimism. When my children and grandchildren read my words (if they can process ALL of the words), I want them to see a person who has good days and bad days, struggles and triumphs, laughter and tears. In short, I want them to see a real person who tried her best (most days) to do what she thought was right. Sometimes, I was successful and sometimes I was not.

It's important to me.

I made a book out of my blog posts from 2011, and my children have devoured it. (In the instance of the corner of page 58, I mean that quite literally.) It cost me a small fortune. Just as I do with my daughter's American Girl Doll, I have to fight the urge to say: "That is for looking and not touching." But, life is for living, and I have learned that life is messy. I have also learned that I can tell my children that I love them, but seeing mom print pictures and write about the poignant, hilarious, embarrassing, and revolting has made them not only feel special but absolutely essential to our family.

My old blog was entitled "Crazy Making House" which came from a line of a play. It has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The older I get, the crazier I become. So, I have decided to upgrade my status to insanity.

"Insanity is hereditary. You can catch it from your kids."

-Erma Bombeck

In my case, I think the condition is full-blown. I have felt more than inadequate lately. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why the deeper I go into this world of parenthood, the more lost I feel. When I was pregnant with the twins, my mom turned to me and said: "If this doesn't teach you patience, then you're a lost cause." (The jury's still out.) I would also like to add that I firmly believe parenting is supposed to teach me humility. It is stripping me of everything I thought I knew of myself, and I hope, someday real soon, the Lord can begin rebuilding me into the person I am capable of becoming.