I started two blogs at the same time. The other one, therymerfamily.wordpress.com, was just a place to stick photos of my son and short stories of our lives. It was horror of horrors a mommy blog. Though I am loathe to admit I’ve sunk that far it is unmistakably indicative of that genre. So fine. I was the owner of a mommy blog. I could li e with that. It was just for the grandparents anyway. I was still me! And just to prove how still me I was I started this blog too. This blog that is not a mommy blog. This blog that’s supposed to be about what I think rather than what I do.
This blog that I haven’t had a single post for since the day I started it.
In a poignant bit of irony I find that I don’t know what to think about the fact that I no longer seem to have thoughts that aren’t about family, parenthood, or when absolutely necessary, about work. I don’t think parenthood has subsumed my identity. I don’t feel like I’m less of a person. And yet. Here’s this blog. This empty page. Waiting for thoughts that won’t come. I don’t have an answer for that. And as a person whose brain has never failed to supply me with an answer that scares me most of all.