The “Perfect” Week and Writer’s Block

Last week I challenged myself to accomplish two goal this week. The first being closing all my activity rings on my Apple Watch, and the second being blogging every day this week. They were relatively small goal, but I’m still proud to have accomplished both of them. But it got me thinking about writing and my relationship with writing.

I started writing when I was in third grade. I wrote and illustrated a series of books about a kingdom of mice, and while the books have been lost to time, I feel confident in saying they were epic. When I hit puberty I started using writing as an outlet for working through all of my normal adolescent frustrations. By the time I was in college my two main ways of coping were writing and killing off facsimiles of people on The Sims. Hey, it’s better than drugs.

The thing is, I’m not subtle. So to use writing as a coping mechanism meant that I had to give zero fucks about what people thought. I once wrote a play about things ending badly with a guy and named the villain after the guy. I had an acting teacher I didn’t get along with so one of my characters cut out the tongue of her acting teacher. A stranger once called me a bitch in a supermarket so I murdered him with a shopping cart…. in a play that I wrote.

I was really good at not giving a shit. It was fun, liberating, and made me feel like a badass. But all of that changed when I became a mom. Kids are usually a package deal. When I became a mom I also became a partner to my (now) husband, a daughter in law to my in laws, so many different things to different people. And quite suddenly I went from giving zero fucks to giving allllll the fucks.

I bit my tongue, I tried not to curse (which I really enjoy doing and believe I’m pretty good at), I tried to be so many things to so many people, that a part of me got lost in the shuffle. I worried about what people would think of me and how they would judge me. And I couldn’t write anymore.

I kept getting into my head and shutting myself down. I was worried. Worried that the people around me, who cared about me, would judge me. I mean, the idea of telling my Christian in laws that I was writing a feminist, vampire erotica sounds awful.

Even worse somehow, is that all those fucks I suddenly gave were for people I love, but who also annoy the shit out of me occasionally. My husband and I are incredibly lucky to have built an amazing support system for our family. But what do I do when that support system pisses me off? I can’t write about mowing them down with shopping carts, they are an amazing support system, they read everything I write.

The whole thing has made writing incredibly hard for the last eight years.

Which is why, tonight, I’m patting myself on the back for reaching my goal of a perfect week. I wanted to end the week with a post that’s a little more personal, a little more raw. Try to get back some of that catharsis writing used to provide. Honestly, it just feels good to write. About anything.


About Me

A while ago my friend Hannah introduced me to her sister, “This is Kim. She has cute babies, she bakes tasty things, she’s pretty crafty. She’s just a bad ass mother f**ker.” This is how I want everyone to introduce me from now on. I want it engraved on my tombstone. With the possible exception of my husband’s wedding vows, it is probably the nicest thing anyone has said about me. But is it true?

Cute Babies?

Well admittedly I do have cute babies. This is not bias. Just ask my friend Hannah.

How About Baking? Being Crafty?

I can bake and cook things without poisoning people, so that’s pretty cool. I craft things because it’s cheaper than buying them but there is no mistaking them for anything other than homemade.

Really A Badass?

But am I truly a bad ass mother f**ker? Well, I try to be. It’s not easy though is it? I mean, being a mom is hard. First, you have to keep your kids alive, which isn’t easy because kids do incredibly stupid things. Then, you have to try to raise them to be decent human beings. Also not easy. The other night I had to explain to my eight year old daughter why she can’t spit on her bedroom floor. Because she had spit on her bedroom floor. Then you have to worry about bullying, “helicoptering”, “new math”, and what the hell is a Hatchimal?

Why This Blog?

Because nothing, especially being a mom, is as easy as people make it look. You go online to research how to throw a Frozen themed birthday party, or how to make a healthy, quick, week night dinner that’s kid friendly, or how to make your own bouncy castle out of things around your house, and you are bombarded with pages and images that make it all look so easy.

So, I started this blog. For moms like me, who are far from perfect but know it’s the trying that matters. On here you’ll find recipes that are easy to follow, crafts that are cheap and easy to make, and (hopefully) amusing anecdotes about being a modern mom. Also, I’m pretty obsessed with Disney so expect that to come up a lot too. 🙂