Reflections and Ramblings: Volume Twenty-Six

Memories are fickle things. When I think back on my childhood, there are scattered moments that I can remember very vividly; even the simplest of details are still clear as day to me. But then I have entire stretches of time where I can remember next to nothing. The fourth grade, for instance. I have about three total memories from my entire fourth grade year, and I have no idea why that is.
I haven’t written much on this blog in quite a while. Sarah has been much more active on it than I have in the last few months. Back in 2016 when I was a stay-at-home parent while Sarah was a labor and delivery nurse I made it a priority of mine to try and blog fairly consistently. I did a fairly good job, and it seemed to be at a point in time where blogging was still a thing a decent amount people did regularly. It’s pretty interesting to see that even in the last couple years that has really seemed to fade away for even the most prolific of bloggers that I used to keep up with. I’m not sure why it has changed, but it has been fairly consistent. There are a number of reasons why I stopped blogging here like I used to. I suppose most of them are simply excuses that I most likely would blame on being busy. But, a big part of it has to do with the eyes that read it. I wish I had more control over who could read my posts. Writing is a vulnerable thing to do, and sometimes there’s details that I want to share with most people that I might not want everyone to be able to read. Coworkers, family, certain friends, random strangers. They cause me to be just hesitant enough to not publish posts as often as I would like. When Sarah published the most recent post about getting a new car I saw that one of the suggested posts at the bottom was a post that I made right after we purchased our last car. And going back and reading that was like time traveling. I had forgotten so many of those details, and reading I experienced a rush of emotions and memories come over me from what life was like at that time. And I felt regret. I regretted not writing on my blog more often. So here I am. I’m not sure if people even read blog posts anymore. The world is too crazy and fast-paced these days to keep up with blogs, probably. But I think it’s time to write about my life again here. Not necessarily for you, but for myself. And perhaps one day for my kids. You’re welcome to follow along. I personally do love reading blogs, especially of those who are able to write thoughtfully of their day-to-day lives.
I remember as a stay-at-home dad feeling like I was sort of wasting much of my late twenties by not having a job and being in my house with my two boys most of the time. Other people were out there in the world experiencing all sorts of exciting things. That meant that those people had stories that were interesting to tell. What did I have but the monotony of changing diapers, making meals, and cleaning up toys every day? I had a passion for story-telling, but at the time I didn’t feel like I had stories that were very interesting. And here I am now at thirty-two with a life that I feel is both personally satisfying as well as filled with all sorts of experiences and stories worth sharing, or at least documenting for my own archival and memory. I’ve learned to pay attention better to the various layers of meaning found in each and every day of my life. So here I am ready to write more again. To take more photos and videos of my children and my day to day life. It’s time to add to the library of impressions here on my blog again. I want to remember this time in my life. I don’t want to risk this being a stretch of time in my life that I forget.

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