It has been brought to my attention that I should start blogging again.
I stopped, however long ago I stopped, because I just didn't feel like I had anything relevant to say. I'm one of those people who doesn't find it difficult at all to withdraw. All throughout high school, I carried around a binder with "It's better to remain silent and appear a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt" written on the cover. If I have nothing to say, I keep my mouth (and my pen, and my laptop) shut.
A lot has happened since the last time I wrote an actual blog about me and my life. I guess if we're going to re-acquaint ourselves with one another, here are the most pertinent facts you should know about me to get you up to speed.
1. I am *still* working on my novel. And I'm still very happy with it. But I don't often get the pull to write anymore, and when I do, I much prefer funny facebook statuses with instant comments rather than my novel, that usually breeds internal insecurity and despair. A writer's life is lonely. I did that for a couple of decades and I don't want to be lonely anymore. Not if I can help it anyway. So that said, please comment and banter with me. I want to know you're out there. I want to know you and talk to you.
2. I am no longer strictly a stay-at-home mom. I'm a mid-level leader for a popular direct sales company, with a team of 70+ in my down line. I've been doing this for three years now, and it keeps me very busy. The downside is that it has taken the place of writing in a lot of respects, but it is also lots of fun, and gets me out of my house when I need it. And a (semi) sane Brittany is better than the alternative.
3. Being mom to Sam and John is still central to my life, but of course, things are different now that the boys are 6 and 8. It is much less of a struggle to write when they are around. They are at an age where I have room to breathe and room to remember who I was before they were born and have the freedom to be her again. I am also "officially" a special needs mom, although I don't really see myself as such, because Sam, my oldest, was diagnosed last year with Asperger's. Both boys have ADHD, and John has Tourette's. I have Tourette's too. I'm putting all this out there, not because I'm making a big deal out of it, but because I'm real, and my life is weird and quirky and usually runs a little left of center. If you're going to hang out with me for any time at all, if you want to get to know me even a little, this is my truth. We don't do normal at Chez Vandeputte.
Now that introductions are out of the way, I will say that the original intent of this blog--to document my writing life as a mom--still applies, but I have to warn you that this isn't going to be a Mommy Blog like you might be expecting. If I'm being truly honest, I would say that my initial youthful apathy towards marriage and children was probably for a reason. I can be domestic. I can bake cookies and read books and sing songs with the best of them -- and god knows I love my children and love being their mother -- but it isn't what I want to be doing. When I dream, I dream of independence. Of being tied to nothing and nobody and living the life of a wanderer. But again, if I'm being honest, I have two natures, always warring with each other. There is the one side of me that is always discontent, filled with wanderlust, who would walk away from everything I care about without a passing glance. In my twenties, I did it more times that I care to count. And it became more painful every time because there is my other side, my perpetually needy other half, who wants a path, and a map, and a plan. Who can't bear to travel without a compass, a destination, a reservation, and an itinerary when I get there. She has hounded my gypsy soul mercilessly, blamed her for all my poor decisions and rash actions, and it has led me here, to a life so domestic and buttoned up and perfectly planned that I can only dream about what might have been. Expect some whining about it from the gypsy. She can be very grouchy about her situation. Imagine a tightrope walker, in her pink sequins and tutu, riding a unicycle high in the air over the head of Whistler's Mother, and you will see what I'm dealing with here. There is no happy medium in my head.
I have come to terms with existing in the space between my two polarities. Sometimes it can even be a funny place to hang out. Adventures are bound to happen in such a fertile field...