With a hey-nonimity

In my last entry I gave away a lot more about myself than I ever intended in this blog. Originally I endeavoured to be completely anonymous – trying not to reveal my location, my job, even my sex. This was partly because this blog was not supposed to be about me, but to deal with more abstract concepts – although of course, as thematically it revolves solely around my personal wonder and worrying, it is in fact entirely, unavoidably, egotistically and uninterestingly about me, probably laying aspects of my inner psyche horribly bare to anyone who can read. The attempt at anonymity was also partly because I was paranoid about making some kind of false move or faux-pas in the blogosphere that would cost me my job, or cause some such miserable scandal of the type only social media can dish out, as we hear about so often (“teenager’s misspelt text message goes viral”…)

Of course, I’m sure to any vaguely astute reader, I have naively revealed all about myself numerous times. However, in returning to the blog I have purposely relinquished some of that anonymity for various reasons. Although I don’t intend this blog to be about motherhood (I’m sure there are plenty of blogs out there dealing more efficiently and helpfully with such a subject), my everyday life is still so greatly taken up by the unavoidably female aspects of parenthood – namely, recovering from childbirth and breastfeeding – that I imagine it will inevitably show through in my writing. Furthermore, there is simply so much more interesting stuff on the internet that I’m sure nobody is really likely to find or care what I write.

So what else have I given away in previous entries? I have referred to my “other half” or my “partner”, so not so much to learn there. The reader knows that I live in or near a city with a tram service, and I may have mentioned mountains somewhere. I’m a teacher – and I imagine my subject area can easily be guessed (answers on the back of a postcard please. I wonder why they say that anyway. Whoever writes on the front of a postcard?) I have a sister, and I have lost at least two grandparents and a mother (for that matter, so has she). I like music (ooh, and so much more there).

And who cares anyway?

Anyway, as a breastfeeding, sleep-deprived mum of two with a house to look after (somewhere) and a job to do (teaching something), I guess I should be in bed rather than rambling further.

It's been even longer

I know I’m breaking all the rules of blogging here. I’m sure I read somewhere – and anyway, it makes common sense – that to be successful (i.e. followed and read by enough people to make it worthwhile) a blog must be regular, and consistent in theme. Well, it’s been over a year since my last entry; for all the usual reasons and a few less usual ones: our seemingly-insanely busy (but probably fairly standard) everyday routine, compounded by a few life-changing events. One of these was the death of my mother after a long illness, which I have alluded to, although not directly, in various previous blog entries. Then, more happily, since my last entry I have managed to conceive, carry and give birth to our second child, the arrival of whom approximately coincided with the death of my partner’s father, and us buying and moving to a new house. So, we’ve been occupied, to say the least.

I’m returning to blogging thanks to a good friend of mine: one day we randomly started talking about writing, and I let slip that I had this obscure, entirely-unread blog. She actually did me the honour of reading it, discussing it, and sharing some of her own ideas and words. What’s more, she persuaded me to keep writing. More of that in future I am sure.

I have been so unbelievably busy, not-to-say sleep-deprived, since my last entry that I hadn’t really felt that need to write that drove me in the first entries (as explained in First Entry). However, once I accepted the idea that I was going to return to it, the anticipation of doing so made a tiny part of my brain feel nice somehow, somewhere in the background beneath all the other stuff it had to deal with. I started writing entries in my head during night feeds and inane household tasks, enjoying the intellectual challenge of trying to order ideas and construct paragraphs mentally, and to hold on to them until such a point as I could write them down.

The feeling faded as I kept putting off the moment – I of course couldn’t allow myself such a luxury before finishing such-and-such a piece of work, and then there was the tax return to submit, and then…and… But tonight is the night.

Why oh why am I trying to return to blogging, when there are so many other things to be done? My baby is only three months old and still waking me at night, so any time not spent doing something absolutely essential is time that should be spent sleeping. In the day-to-day, any moment when I am not directly dealing with either or both of the children, I am usually obliged to dive quickly into one of the absolutely unavoidable household chores – namely washing up, laundry or cooking. The slightly less incessant tasks like hoovering or cleaning windows go – well, out of the window (hah, hah). (This problem is compounded by having just moved to a house in which some of these tasks have not been done in the three years since the previous residents departed, or I think in some cases, in the hundred-or-so years since the house was built).

Then, my job – I might as well tell you; I’m a teacher – is far from being one that fits into a closed schedule and can be left at the office at the end of the day. There is always correcting, grading or admin to be done, or preparation for the next day, week or year. If ever these tasks seem finished, or at least sufficiently un-urgent to allow me to contemplate doing something else, I could/should be improving my practice by reflecting, reading and researching.

Then, I could be reading a good book, or picking up a long-neglected musical instrument, or finishing my sister’s Christmas present (a knitted scarf). I could be attempting the novel that I have had rattling around in my head for literally years. I could study a foreign language, do my physiotherapy stretches, get some badly-needed exercise. So why, instead, return to my (almost) entirely-unread blog?

Well… we’ll see how it goes. I still rather like the title. And the colour scheme. And, if I ever permit myself to liberate any brain cells from the tyranny of the everyday, I still have some ideas – and worries – concerning the state of society, the future of humanity and the wonder of the world.

So it seems I’ve broken another presumed rule for successful blogging – that is, to keep the entries short and to-the-point. And having made that observation, I guess I’d better stop here.