State of the Union
I filled out a mandatory Mental Health of Mom of Newborn worksheet when I went to Fox’s four-month well-baby check earlier this week. I’m one of those lucky people whose hormones don’t go haywire postpartum, so I checked every Yes! Fine! Great! box and handed the sheet to the doctor and then went about my day, which included working super hard on a post for my new craft column at Work It, Mom. I’m really proud of it–both to have the gig and to have put together a good first post that includes an animated gif that for some dumb reason took me as long to make and upload as the entire craft did to create in the first place–and I was really excited to share it online. But when I did, no one said a word. I even used the word “Pleeeeease.”
That was went I started to feel sorry for myself and got caught in a whirlpool of negative thoughts and feelings. How come some people can post any kind of unimportant crap and a mob of readers clamor to pipe in, even with something as quick and easy as “Cool!” I’m not even talking about the big, shiny popular bloggers but even the modest ones with tens of readers. I seem to have trouble getting comments on posts that include an option for readers to win actual cash and prizes. What gives?
I had to report my site traffic for a possible gig, and when I looked it up, I was sad to see it has been dropping significantly every month for a while now. That my feelings are hurt is not a reflection of how I feel about blog traffic but how I feel coming face to face with evidence that people just don’t care, that maybe I’ve become irrelevant, that something about me or the way I write or what I write about no longer moves people enough to make the effort of even clicking “Like” on most days. Everyone likes to talk about how they don’t have “big blogs” and how “no one’s commenting anymore,” but those people still seem to get ten or five or two comments on posts, especially ones they put extra heart into, and here I am putting my heart into everything I do and wonder why I’m getting practically no response at all. Listen, I know it’s not about traffic or comments or @ replies, but when that’s the method by which we can gauge that we are being heard, when it’s the method by which we have proof we’re not invisible, it’s hard to not read into what low traffic and no comments signify. It’s hard to look at what traffic there is and say, “Oh, look! X number of people visited the site today and not a single one of them said hi.”
(I know this sounds silly, but I wonder sometimes, especially when I join conversations on Twitter and no one responds: Have I been blacklisted? Is someone spreading rumors that make other people not want to touch me with a ten-foot pole, or even an @ reply? I know. It’s silly. But I do wonder.)
Then again, hell, why should I even care, right? I’m getting paid for a good number of my posts whether anyone reads them or not! Yay me! BUT, as anyone who has turned a passion into a job can tell you, it can never be about the money if it started in your heart. The money doesn’t matter when I’m talking to an empty room.
I know I should concentrate not on what I’m not getting but on what I am. Some of you comment. Some of you comment regularly. Some of you send me emails and talk to me on Twitter. Some of you will recognize this for what it is and give me a little virtual pat on the back, and I thank you all. I guess my issue is that I consider myself a part of a community that I suspect doesn’t value me as much as I value it. That’s no way to live, especially now that I’m a SAH/WAHM and this is my MAIN community.
(I do have friends outside the computer, so this is just a classic case of not being able to appreciate what I have because I want something I can’t seem to get.)
I guess I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed and out of control this week, and when the one thing I worked hard at and was proud of went unacknowledged, it started the chain-reaction pity party. I know I shouldn’t care, but it is what it is, and on top of everything, it’s all sometimes a lot to handle when I feel like I’m handling it all alone.
My hair is falling out (thanks, hormones) and my favorite conditioner has been discontinued and I’ve always thought my hair was my best feature and now it looks like crap every single day.
None of my clothes fit.
We’re training the baby not to eat more than once in the middle of the night, and I have never been so exhausted in my life.
I worry that staying home with the baby and having most of my income tied to online writing instead of editing books for companies means I’m relying too much on a social group that doesn’t give me the attention I seem to need from it (however dysfunctional that is), and that makes me feel pathetic.
This is the shit that’s happening around me every day. Those are the streets I know, the intersections I drive through, the places where I shop and play and sleep. Wombat’s preschool got a security guard after pellet gun holes were found in the windows of Wombat’s room, the result of a disgruntled neighbor who doesn’t like parents parking on the street in front of his house for the five minutes it takes them to drop off or pick up their children. The first-floor windows are already bullet-proof, and the second-story windows are next in line.
We live in a hundred-year-old house and the foundation is crumbling in the corner under the boys’ room, and every time it rains the basement floods, and the roof needs to be replaced, and it will never, ever be clean, and in five years it has lost $250,000 in value, and I wonder if we’ll get out of here before joining the ranks of those in our neighborhood who have been burglarized, robbed at gunpoint, or otherwise terrorized while just trying to live a nice, normal life.
I had to take the boys to the pediatrician today for a well-check and flu shots, and we had to park four big blocks away and it was pissing down rain and everything is still soaked.
My cat has been sick for a year, and the diarrhea and barf and constant food-stealing is wearing away my nerves for an old girl who only deserves for me to be extra gentle with her right now. But our whole house smells all the time and the scented candles aren’t working and THIS IS A METAPHOR.
My spam filter isn’t working, so I have to manually delete about 200 comments every day, and a whole bunch of my archives and photos are being held hostage by my old server and I don’t know if I’ll ever get them back, let alone even have the time to try.
A giant freelance project was pushed back almost two months, which means it’s now cramping up my busiest time of year, and even though everyone else has been late taking care of their responsibilities for the book, I’m of course expected to not only be on time but to make up the time lost by a whole team of lollygaggers.
Wombat’s birthday is in two weeks and we have planned absolutely nothing.
There a bunch of things I wanted to make people for Christmas, but I don’t know where I’m going to steal that time from.
Our wedding was a year and a half ago and we still haven’t sent thank you notes. That’s the one I think about when I want to feel really, really awful.
Big-picture-wise, I have it so good, I feel like a dick complaining, so let’s reframe and not call it complaining so much as acknowledging all the yucky feelings that sometimes come out of nowhere and twist up my gut. My parents are coming to town tomorrow and that should help. Maybe my period will return and I’ll be able to chalk this up to PMS. Maybe I’ll take to heart what I know in my brain, which is that sometimes people are too busy to read/comment, sometimes they don’t have anything to say, and sometimes they really just aren’t listening and don’t care and there’s nothing I can do about that but get over it unless I want to miserably pine over a community that doesn’t want me.
Yucky feelings acknowledged (and I already feel better having written them out), it’s time to have a cup of tea and count my blessings.
Reading this made me feel awful…I’m so sorry you are feeling this way! I am one of those who reads voraciously but never comments (except once–when you almost wore the same wedding dress as I did to your wedding – the lacy one!) So here I am breaking my streak and letting you know that I really love reading your stuff, have been for about 5 years now, and you are most certainly one of my favorite writers out there. I get REALLY excited whenever I see you’ve posted something new
I’ll be less of a stranger in the future and give you the shout outs you deserve more often. Feel good, and lean on those parents during the visit, I’m sure it will help.
Dani! Hi! Please don’t feel awful! I have awful covered for everyone today.
I know I have lovely readers out there like you who just don’t like to comment for whatever reason (and that’s okay!), and it’s nice to have a reminder that someone IS listening. Thanks for indulging my shameless plea for attention during a crappy week.
I want you.
That sounded way less creepy in my head before I typed it out, but you know what I mean.
Hey, I’ll take it!
Blargh! I so feel you on this and hate that you feel this way. I don’t blog frequently enough (certainly not with any substance) to expect comments, but I often feel this way on twitter. I’ll interact with conversations – even with people from my “real” life – and often get no response. It makes me question myself, if I’m far more lame than I thought. And then I think I should quit, but I get so much of the interaction that is there. It’s such a painful, awful wormhole.
All this to say, I am terrible at commenting (though I pop up occasionally via tweet), but yours is one blog I will never, ever quit.
It’s the pits, isn’t it? And what’s dumb is it feels like just plain jealousy, which is helpful to NO ONE, and yet knowing what it is doesn’t always make it feel any less crappy. I guess our problem is we maybe love our online community too much, eh?
But man, I’m happy to have you around. So THANK YOU!
This is just to say hello – hello! And also an empathetic pat on the back. I’ve been doing a list of all that is hateful today, and then I feel guilty about how good I have it really, and then I feel worse and so on. This too shall pass… You’re great! You’re doing great!
You’re doing great too! Sometimes it’s helpful to take a step back and see how full and good our lives are, but then other times we just need to wallow in all the shitty stuff and feel bad for ourselves for a bit.
And then we have some nice person come along and say we’re doing great and we take a deep breath and move on. Thank you!
I’m someone else who never comments–I just never feel witty enough. It’s like when you think of a good comeback two hours later
. I don’t have a blog, but I can so relate to you on this post, as I’m sure many others can (it’s ok, sometimes venting and just getting all the icky feelings out in the open helps. You’re allowed!). I hope your week gets better!!
Thank you! And I’m also one of those people who thinks of the right thing to say about three days late (if ever). Hopefully now you know that saying “hi” is enough to make my day.
I totally hear you. Not on the blogging thing specifically (that ship sailed a LONG time ago!), but just the general mood of this post. I feel it. And knowing you have good things but feeling down about it all anyway. I’m sorry that’s the season you’re in these days. I think it’s helpful to get it out, not just for you but for the rest of us too, to know we’re not the only ones and the curated instagrammed lives everyone else seems to lead aren’t the whole story. So thanks for being honest! And for posting at a time of day where I’m actually reading on my computer and not on my phone while nursing trying to type with one hand.
Thanks, Brandi. And here’s a one-handed also-nursing fist bump of solidarity.
Just for all that, I’ll comment this time (though I’m usually better on twitter and appreciate that you respond there so I don’t feel blacklisted too!). I’m exhausted this week because my formerly perfect sleeping baby has lost her skillz and I have just as much to not do very well at work. But we’ll get through! It’s just the newborn phase rearing it’s ugly head! And everything looks so so much better once you can finally get some sleep.
What is up with Twitter these days, man? Maybe everyone’s just busy and trying to keep their own heads above water. (This is obviously the case for me, and I’m sure there are people out there who have felt like *I* was ignoring *them*. Unintentional!) I always appreciate hearing from you, though. Sleep-deprived moms unite!
I feel like this is the plight of so many of us thirty-somethings. Home prices really hit us all, right? Something about loving my babies so much makes the world seem darker. Isn’t that weird? I find myself completely stressed out by the idea of over-population and global warming and limited resources. And then, if my conditioner is discontinued, my day is over.
I think of the bloggers as the “cool girls”…who knew you guys weren’t actually all as full of self-confidence and wit and perfection like I thought?
I have long blond hair like you–I mean ridiculously similar– and I like Abba Moisture Conditioner. I have no help for the pellet gun though. That just sucks.
Hi Jen! (And this reminds me I never responded to the last comment you made!)
Yeah, having kids makes the already dangerous world seem so much more dangerous, especially when at least once a week we hear gunshots in our neighborhood. Yikes. As the parent, I’m supposed to protect my kids, but we’re kind of stuck and can only do so much short of pack up and go off the grid, where our credit scores won’t haunt us.
And thanks for the moisturizer rec!
So now that you mentioned it, I did try to leave a comment on your last giveaway post and I think it got lost in sending twice because I could never get it to show up. And I didn’t want to be *that* girl entering the same comment 6 times. So I left the window and meant to tell you about it, and here we are.
I got it! It was stuck in moderation because my spam filter isn’t working and I have to hand-approve everything. Sigh. But you’re in!
I love your writing and look forward to your posts! The best thing about all the random blogs I follow is that I now can’t remember how or why I first came across them, but now I find reading them such a relaxing and dependable part of my day.
Best wishes to you and your family. I am excited to hear what you end up doing for Wombat’s birthday as I know it’ll be excellent
This makes me happy. It reminds me of how blogging used to be, back when there wasn’t this icky jealous dark side. Thanks so much for your well-wishes!
ooooof. yes, that’s quite a list and quite a bit of really scary and sad and hard things. and then I just saw your tweet about not getting the spa day as F won’t take a bottle and now I’m shaking my fist at the universe because, holy hell, YOU DESERVE A SPA DAY. I’m sorry all the shitty things are obstructing your view of the good things right now. (also sorry that I’m an infrequent commenter at best. I’ll do better, as your thoughtful writing deserves it.)
Thank you. And just to be clear, it’s not anyone’s responsibility to comment; I really just need to get my priorities straight so I can appreciate all that I do have here in this community. That said, comments are always appreciated.
ARgh. Sorry you’re feeling this way!
I wonder if your dropping readership has to do with your switch to a new host? I know that when you switched, I had no idea for, like, months. The switch didn’t happen automatically, and if you did a post about switching, it never showed up in my feed. It wasn’t until you posted a link to a new blog post in Twitter that I realized you’d been posting all that time and I’d been missing it
Now I’m set up with the new feed, but it did take me a while to get that sorted. Also, FYI, sometimes I try to comment and your spam filter or some other computerish gremlin makes it difficult and I just give up.
Anyway, I enjoy reading you!!!
Yeah, the situation with the server switch was so messed up. Basically, my old host locked me out of my blog–no posting, no email–and I had to wrangle a kind and generous friend to do a bunch of backend wizardry to get as much transferred over as she could. Unfortunately, the feed didn’t switch over automatically even though the site is at the same address, and I didn’t even know that was an issue until someone mentioned it a few months later. SUCH AN ASS-PAIN.
But thanks for being one of those wonderful people who always pops her head in to say hi! I always appreciate it.
Just wanted to say the same thing happened to me when you switched hosts; I wondered why you ‘hadn’t posted’ in so long, and then learned via Twitter that you had indeed been posting, etc. I somehow lost the ability via my Blogger follow list to continue following your blog even though I used the new url…so now I need to remember to check it for posts.
But I am not a frequent commenter anyway, so all this to say I like your writing an I DO check to see if you have posts
TODAY IS A SHITTY DAY. And I’m sorry and I totally get it and also: YOU’RE AWESOME and doing SO MUCH and I want you to FEEL BETTER and not be so DAMN HARD ON YOURSELF because, JESUS, WOMAN. LOOK AT ALL THE THINGS YOU DO. (And you’re pretty and you have amazing hair and I’m kinda sure the whole part where you think it looks bad is ALL IN YOUR BRAIN, NOT TRUE.)
Can I come help you do something? Address thank you notes? MAKE YOU CUPCAKES?
COME OVER so we can hang out and TALK TO EACH OTHER IN ALL CAPS!!!
(I was so excited for all the Blathering ladies who got to meet you for the first time, as you are one of the Internets best kept secrets of awesomeness.)
I’ve always read your blog through my feed-reader. When that stopped working, I started relying on your tweets to let me know when you’d posted. Over the last month, I’ve been crazy busy with work and traveling (with two kids!), so Twitter fell by the wayside. However, I just tried to resubscribe to your feed, and it looks like it’s working, so that’s good news! You’re one of my favorite bloggers, and I’m always happy to read a new post of yours. But I rarely comment on anyone’s blog. It basically comes down to a matter of time and lack of something interesting to say that other people haven’t already said. I’m sorry if you actually do want more people interacting with you. I’ve always wanted to be more involved in the online communities–I tried to make a go of Twitter and start interacting with people, but it always felt awkward and like I was trying to break into an already-established group of friends, so I just quit that. I hope it makes you feel better to know that there are those of us out there who read and appreciate your words.
It’s hard. For being such a wide-open and room-for-everyone place, the Internet really is such a cliquey place. I always love it when your name pops up on Twitter or email, though (and not just when it’s linked to a job!), so thanks for always taking the time. You’re great.
Holding up my internet-assumption megaphone ™ to proclaim, “You sound like me when I’m really, really tired.”
I want to come over and take care of your kids while you sleep and sleep and sleep and when you wake up, you’ll say, goddamn it, it’s not that bad, or at least if it is, I can do something in this direction that will help.
Also, there are literally THOUSANDS of new, young, savvy bloggers with prettier pictures and nicer bodies and better blog backends (ha!) and more money and better taste that are piling online every month. And if we get caught in the comparison loop, we will lose lose lose.
We can try to play that game, or we can take a deep breath and do what we know to be true and right for us.
And you’re doing what’s true and right for you.
I love this site.
(Also! If I hear of any more online writing gigs, I’ll send them your way.)
Wise words from one of my all-time-favorite wise-words ladies. You know I’ve read all your posts about online jealousy and nodded my head and bookmarked them so I can read them again later, so I can send them to…uh…FRIENDS who need those reminders. Yeah, FRIENDS. Everything you say is true, but damn if it isn’t hard sometimes to let the logic calm the panicked ego.
Honestly, though, my head usually is screwed on semi-straight when it comes to this stuff, but I guess all bets are off when I lose a bunch of sleep and start to feel sad for myself that I’m not getting all the public love that everyone else seems to be getting.
(Your backend looks mighty fine!)
I feel like I could have written the part about blogging. I feel like I am also often putting extra heart into my posts, and excitedly pressing ‘publish’ to only get a big load of nothing back. So you’re not alone?
I rarely comment because I can never think of anything meaningful to say, but your blog is one of my favorites, and has been for years. I think the quality of your writing is way beyond what most bloggers are putting out, and I’m always excited when I see that you have a new post.
AND! I really liked your snowglobe gif.
I love your blog! And see, here it’s my turn to feel bad that I haven’t been visiting and commenting as often as I want/you deserve. Remembering that I’m a reader and not just a writer always helps me see the bigger picture: I can’t control how many people comment on my posts, but I can go out and comment for other people. Thanks for helping me remember that.
((hug))
Thanks, you. Remember when there were only, like, ten of us who had blogs?
Hi. I have been a long time reader, but I don’t think I’ve ever commented. Sorry!
I love your writing style, and like others have posted above, I really enjoy reading! Keep it up. We are out here.
Thanks for standing up and being counted, Erica! It really does help to know you’re out there and enjoying what I put up here. You may now go back to your regularly scheduled lurking.
I like you!
Thank you!
I’ll join the ranks of those of us who read regularly but never comment. I’m out here though! And I have a baby a few weeks older than Fox and a preschooler and few months younger than Wombat. I feel your overworked and underappreciated pain.
It’s hard, yeah? I think I need to keep reminding myself that it’s no picnic, this two-kid parenting gig, and I shouldn’t stress myself out about stuff that doesn’t really matter. Thanks for the comment.
I am also one of those readers who says little to nothing. You are not alone, we are here
I’m glad you’re here.
I usually don’t comment because I’m too lazy to open the actual post from google reader and scroll down to the “post comment” section. How terrible is that? I do enjoy your writing, and I was sad when you went through a (completely understandable) phase of not posting as much around the time Fox was born. I follow a bunch of bloggers now (how did that happen?), but yours is one of the best. Also, I like your hair.
Thank you, Teri! Flattery will get you everywhere.
And it was harder than I thought it would be to not have as much time to post when Fox was a newborn. I had SO MUCH TO SAY and because I know how fleeting those early days are, I got really anxious thinking about them passing me by without having a chance to record every little thing. So I did what I could, which is what we all try to do every day, eh?
I’m another one who doesn’t often comment, but I always, always read. I’m not sure if you’re talking about the post with the bento box, which was so! stinking! CUTE! but I read that one on my phone and commenting on my phone blows goats.
I also think that with bigger/older/more established bloggers, I always assume Everyone Else is commenting, so my comment, or lack thereof, will probably not be noticed.
I’m definitely guilty of sometimes not commenting on the Big Blogger posts because I don’t feel like I have anything to say that hasn’t already been said. I *am* trying to be better about commenting everywhere I read; the problem is I never have as much time as I’d like to read all the blogs I want to!
I’m another who loves to read your posts but rare comments. I’m a recent addition to the SAHM ranks and am usually reading while nursing the baby so, unless it is something I’m super excited about, I don’t bother with one-handed typing. And I just never go for give-aways for some stupid reason.
Hang in there. Things sound stressful, but hopefully things will feel better soon.
Makes perfect sense. Heaven knows I’m not the best, most consistent commenter out there either. What I’m learning in reading through these comments is that I just don’t have a very commenty audience. Here I was focusing on (a) the Twitter crowd and (b) the people who always seem to leave comments on blogs I read, and what I wasn’t seeing was how many of you out there just aren’t commenters. Knowing that makes me feel a whole lot better. You might even say it’s not me, it’s you.
Hey girl, I always think you are entertaining and fabulous. I think I tweet at ya more than comment, but I read regularly. I agree with H-J, this is how I feel when I’m wrung out. You’re awesome. Keep being awesome even if you aren’t feelin’ it
Thanks, you. Twitter is definitely a great place to connect, but it always warms my heart extra when someone from there makes it over here to say hi. So thanks!
Every single word makes so much sense, and I so get it. I hope that you feel so much better tomorrow (and maybe even now, reading all of these comments!). And I just wanted to say that I join so many in saying that I devour your every word (here and on Twitter), and I should make more of an effort to chime in from time to time. Less lurking, more participating. I am on it.
Thanks, friend! You’re one of those people I feel like I see more often because you’re on Twitter and Instagram, but of course it’s great to see you here too, where the conversation can go a bit deeper than 140 characters.
I love your blog, but never comment. I rarely feel like I have anything worthwhile to say (which is a whole other subject)..but I do love your writing. I didn’t even know that you have a craft column on Work It, Mom. I have recently discovered that I am actually a pretty good crafter. Going to check it out now!
Yay fellow crafter! I hope you like some of the projects I put up.
And seriously, I don’t know any blogger who doesn’t appreciate every single [non-mean] comment, even if it’s someone just saying “I like this post.” Never underestimate how much a little gesture can mean to us attention-getting types!
Leah,
A few years ago (2008, I think), I was in a terrible state after an awful, drawn-out breakup. I was living in a place with no friends close by, and I was desperate to connect to other people. I had been reading your blog for awhile, and I sent you an email unloading all my emotional baggage and asking you to share your experience with a similar situation you had described in your writing. I felt a bit crazy and ridiculous sharing so much with a stranger, but I did it anyway. I didn’t actually expect a response, but I received such a thoughtful, supportive reply from you. That you took the time to write back to someone far away–someone you’d never met (someone who shared way too much!)— is a kindness that I haven’t forgotten. Thank you so much for that!
So, in response to your post today, I want to let you know that I really enjoy your writing and appreciate the time and effort it takes to share so much with your readers. I will echo the words of others and say, keep it up! You do great things.
Oh, Megan, this is the best. I do try to do my part to give back to my readers what they give to me, and although I’m far from perfect at it, I’m glad I was able to lend some support. Thanks so much for this comment, and I’m glad you’re still sticking around the site after so many years!
hi, long-ish time reader here but first time commenter. i don’t have a blog myself, though i read them voraciously. i have never really given comments/what they would mean to the writer a second thought. please don’t be discouraged! i will try harder.
While I certainly don’t want to guilt anyone into thinking they have to comment all the time, definitely know that bloggers–ALL bloggers–love comments. And there’s always something special about those that begin with “Long-time reader, first-time commenter…”
Delurking and raising my hand to let you know I’m here too. I check on you everyday, I find it very scary to comment, though. It’s through you that I found so many of the blogs that I read everyday and I don’t really comment on those either. I love hearing about your adventures and your beautiful babies. Yourself, and many of your friends, have got me through the last few years of being a SAHM. I am forever grateful even if I don’t show it well. If it makes you feel better, I know exactly WHAT smell you are referring to and I feel your pain. Please keep it up I would miss you.
I’m sorry you know about The Smell. It’s the worst, worst, worst. Ugh.
And please don’t be afraid to comment! I have some of the nicest readers on the whole internet (as the comments here prove), and I’M certainly not scary, so type away!
Comments about things in my posts are great and all, but I really like hearing my readers’ stories too. Sharing experiences–not just reacting to one blogger’s story–is what it’s all about at its best.
I’m another one who lost you during the server madness or whatever, but found you again. (Out of reader, out of mind…)
I read SO MANY blogs, and comment on like, 4 of them. Because I feel that the Cool Girls have taken over the internet and everyone in the blogging communities either already knows each other and so I am an outsider, or are Dooce sized, and what’s the point of being voice #293? I think the later is rational – I have better things to do with my time. But the former? Man, it makes me feel like SUCH a loser some times. It’s one of the reasons I won’t join twitter. If I wanted to feel like that regularly, I’d just sit around remembering junior high, you know?
Anyways, all this to say I totally get you and that I’m glad you’re writing, dark clouds or no.
Yessssss. Twitter especially is a very cliquey place, and although most people are lovely and friendly, it does feel hard to break into certain communities in which everyone already feels so chummy. I (obviously) have days when it makes me feel like crap, and I need to be better about just STAYING AWAY until I’m not going to get my feelings hurt so easily. It’s a balancing act, for sure.
What I love about you—both here and on Twitter—is that you speak honestly. It exhausts me when people talk about feeling bad, but then apologize every other breath for letting those feelings out. We all deserve the freedom to say, sure in general my life is great, but right now, this SUCKS. And you say that. And it’s refreshing and always makes me want to simultaneously applaud and hug you. I’m sorry that you’re in a shitstorm of sad things now, but I’m proud of you for acknowledging it.
I have a pretty great life, myself, but I’ve been sitting on my couch crying for the past hour because I miss my dog who died 6 weeks ago. I think we can blame the full moon for making us feel shitty. I’d like to blame somebody.
I have to confess that I rarely comment because here *I* feel like the insignificant one. Why would YOU want to hear what I have to say? I feel silly @ replying on Twitter because it feels like I’m trying to make a personal connection to a celebrity (for lack of a better word) which is sad. Please know that I do read every one of your posts and wish you nothing but happiness.
Now tell me again… you have a crafting column somewhere? How did I miss that?
Lisa! You are one of those people I love seeing on Twitter because you’re always thoughtful and caring and RESPONSIVE (which is obviously a huge thing for me).
And thanks for acknowledging that it’s okay for all of us to have pity parties now and then. It always makes me nervous when it happens because I don’t want to be thought of as the type who is always begging for virtual hugs when it’s really just to get attention, and I also don’t want the Pain Olympians to stomp in and go “How can you be unhappy when there are people who don’t even HAVE x, y, and z?!” It’s good to know this is still a safe place for me to be open about this sort of thing and not have any backlash.
Your home made snow globe turned out beautiful. Our office also did this for a craft day for children in the poorest part of our city and used baby food jars. It’s a really inexpensive alternative.
Yes! I still have a million baby food jars leftover from using them as vases for our wedding. I’m going to have to do this!
I’m feeling exactly the same about my site and would blow it up this week, only my head knows that it’s PMS talking.
Hugs, friend. xo
Thanks, friend. I’m so glad the internet brought you into my life.
I am commenting for two reasons. One, as along time (pre-Simon, I think?) reader and infrequent commenter, I thought I would take the time to say that I do read and appreciate you. Two, I know your post wasn’t a request as such but more a perfectly articulated venting session (which kudos on that, most of my rants tend to disintegrate pretty quickly and don’t actually come off as so well-written
). And as someone who is a long time believer in the importance of sharing the good and the bad (although I am not always as brave as you to do so in a public forum), I say kudos! I am sure things will get better, but either way, you do have a community here and we want to hear what you have to say.
Thanks, Abby. I certainly don’t want to become one of those whine-all-the-time people just because it gets me comments, but I also appreciate having a friendly forum in which to vent about the crappy times. Thanks for listening and rooting for me.
First of all, being exhausted with two kids makes everything harder (here speaks the mother of a 3 week old who feeds every 2-3 hours, 24/7, and a 2.10 year old… so I HEAR you on this). When you ‘re getting more sleep things will be brighter.
I stopped blogging partly because I felt very unheard. I didn’t have the knowledge to go about generating new readers, and although those who read my blog claimed to enjoy it, that didn’t seem to lead to a dialogue. And that’s one of the main reasons I started blogging.
I comment occasionally on your blog, and have been reading a long time (in fact, when you posted about trying for a baby- Wombat- it was one of the things that made me think ‘hey maybe we don’t need to be married to have a baby after all’- and now we have two, and are still unmarried, and so happy).
One thing that occurs to me is that you have a very positive attitude to life, your relationship, your kids etc, and seem to cope with things well. And- sadly- what tends to get comments on the Interweb is the opposite of that, I’ve noticed. People tend to respond more to hardship (I certainly noticed this when I blogged). Perhaps it’s easier to say ‘oh that sucks’ than ‘yay that’s great!’? Just a- possibly comforting- thought….
I love this comment so hard. When I wrote this post I was mostly wondering where the *comments* had gone, but what you said made me realize I’m also missing the *dialogue* that used to happen here. I want to tell my stories, yes, but I also love hearing other peoples’ stories too. That’s why I read comments on other blogs and why I love Twitter so much (when I’m not feeling blacklisted there). I like it when people talk to each other!
And you’re totally right, of course, about drama getting more hits than just regular old happy posts about life. I’m certainly not immune to paying more attention to people when they’re having a rough time, and it’s totally natural to drive-by rubberneck at certain things, but yeah…it sucks that there seems to be less of an audience for non-branded personal blogs than there was several years ago. Even the happy blogs seem like they have to be Shiny and Happy All the Time and Complete with Professional-Level Photography. It’s a different world, for sure and hard to compete for readers’ limited time and attention when you’re basically still just journaling. Sigh.
Finally, congrats on your outside-of-wedlock babymaking! I regret nothing and I hope you don’t either.
I’m going to say something that you probably already know and probably won’t make you feel better, but here it is anyway: You are not alone! You are not alone because I know that I often feel ignored/alone/worried/frustrated/ALL OF THE BAD FEELINGS, UGH! And I know that other people do, too.
But! Hooray that you wrote the ick out instead of trying to hide it! Hooray that you say it like it is!
And also, LOOK AT YOU GO! Responding to so many of the comments on this post! That’s one thing that gets me down sometimes, when I DO comment on a post, and it’s not just a “cool,” but an actual, well-meaning, thought-out (if not all that witty) comment, and then the blogger doesn’t respond. Or tweet back. Who would have thought ten years ago we’d be upset by rejection online? I guess I should just be thankful that I’m not online dating…yet.
This whole online thing is still so new, it’s no wonder it’s so frustrating so often. We have no idea what we’re doing! Our feelings get hurt and then we think they shouldn’t be hurt because the people inside the computer aren’t “real” friends, except they are and we like them and we want them to like us back, but it’s still weird because we’ve never met. It’s exhausting. For me, the solution has been frequently checking in with myself about how I feel about certain forums (this site, Twitter, etc.) and taking a step back–or writing an angsty post–when I need to.
I’ve just woken up in London (it’s nearly 10am, don’t judge me) and checked this blog for a new post, as I always do, and have been motivated into posting my first comment – I found your blog through a chain of other blogs (I love it when that happens!) and in the last few months have read my way through all of your archives. I just realised that makes me sound a bit nuts. Anyway, I love your blog and will comment more. Especially because I also own a hundred year old house that is falling down around my ears – my husband and I may soon have to move to a caravan.
Yay! I love hearing that someone has read through my archives (although it makes me feel bad that so many of the photo and webcast links are broken). I used to do that with new blogs all the time, so this is evidence that the old-school ways are still alive and well out there (in London, apparently).
Hi there
Like many others who have commented, I am a long time reader (and all the way from Australia too!). I only let myself follow 9 blogs (yes, 9! I don’t know why I picked that particular number but I did… I don’t think I could handle any more, given that I have 2 small kids and work in a crazy busy job 3 days per week). I read those 9 blogs (one of which is yours, clearly) religiously; and the 30 or so minutes I spent catching up on those blogs on the computer at night – after work, after the kids have gone to sleep, after the lunches for the next day have been made and the school bags packed – are one of my favourite times of the day. You write so well and I absolutely love reading your posts. I am sorry that I haven’t commented before… but please know that your writing is appreciated. I would be absolutely devestated if you ever stopped blogging!
This is wonderful. It reminds me of when I used to steal time at work to read blogs and it always put me in the best mood because it felt like I was taking some time out to catch up with friends. (I feel like I should qualify that so it doesn’t sound so creepy, but then I remembered I’m talking to blog readers here, so you totally know what I mean.)
I love that I’m part of your relaxation routine (and I’m curious what those other eight blogs are!) and am glad you decided to comment and let me know. Thanks.
I check your site every day, and I love to follow you on Twitter. I try to comment a little here and there on ALL the blogs I read, which means I probably, in the end, comment on each blog once or twice a month.
But, I hear you about all the social networking/blogging/site stats, etc. As writers, we’ve been forced to move into this realm and if we want to stay relevant (and employed) we have to learn how to write things that get hits and comments. AND IT’S SO HARD. I have a personal website to “tout” myself and blog on, because while I hate doing that stuff (we’re writers because we’re a tad introverted, no?), I know I HAVE TO. However, work life and home life is so crazy busy, that my motivation for my little site is lacking. And then I feel awful too.
(And I feel bad when people don’t respond to me on Twitter too. Like I’m lame or something. What IS that?!)
It’s a spiral and a dangerous one and somedays I just want to go work at a coffee shop instead. But my barista at Dunn Bros here in MN has said, “You’d get tired of slinging coffee, too.” So.
Hang in there. You’re awesome!
Yes yes yes. Having started out as a personal blogger and not a Professional Online Writer (which I guess I am now in some forums), it’s been very hard to find that balance. My personal life has become part of my professional life, and vice versa, and it seems like everyone has something to say about the right way to promote (or they say that all self-promotion is bad), so it’s tough to ever feel like I’ve found the best method. I guess the answer is we just keep plugging away and not giving ourselves too much grief when we make mistakes, eh? (Easier said than done, I know.)
Ooh, I also wanted to say that having jobs tied to stats is THE WORST. It would be lovely if I could say stats don’t matter and that would be the truth, but when I’m applying for paid gigs, stats DO matter because my clients want to be sure they’re going to get a return on their money. This is where giveaway posts tend to mess with me: on the one hand, I’d love for a fewer number of devoted readers to enter the contest so one of them wins, but on the other hand, the fewer entries I get, the less likely I’ll be considered for future gigs, which means less money I’m bringing into the house. Blech. Not my favorite.
I hear you! I am a fairly new reader, so I know we don’t have any histpry together. But when you started listing ALL OF THE THINGS – I know this and do this too! I don’t do it as much as I used to, back when I had only two children and the youngest was a baby (COINCIDENCE??). So, hugs to you, new Internet friend! It gets better! It will! Now that I have 3 kids and am a little further removed from those foggy baby days, I can say that learning to let things go (like the thank you notes) has helped. Or really letting go of anything and deciding not to feel badly about it- you are trying your best and have the best intentions. Be gentle to yourself.
Thank you, new reader! Letting go is HARD for me (obviously), but I like that you included “and then don’t feel bad about it.” That’s even harder but also more important. Life’s too short to beat ourselves up, right?
Hi, Leah! I like you. xo
Thank you! Just a few little words and look at me smiling over here like a goon.
Ditto… it’s so easy to start listing all the things that make you feel crappy – because lo, there are many (at least for me – and apparently, you) and I could easily type “look on the bright side, combat the negative by listing the positive things” (see, I wrote it, so easy) but it doesn’t make it all better. I am sorry you are having A Day, or a Week… but take it for what it is, being honest. Better out than in, right? I have always and likely will always love reading you, I think we would totally be friends who did coffee/margarita dates if I didn’t live in Michigan… I appreciate your ability to put into words the difficulties in life (and the joys) without making them seem overly dramatized and always find myself nodding and thinking, “Yeah, what she said.”
I have in-laws in Michigan! Maybe we’ll visit one day and can grab a drink if we’re in the same part of the mitten!
Thanks for hanging around, familiar face.
I will hold you to it! [In a totally non-stalker type way.]
I don’t know how I missed this post yesterday! I am so sorry. I don’t comment often but please know that I read every post and I LOVE your blog. I think you and your family are wonderful. I follow you on Twitter too and read all your posts on other websites, if you link to them. I actually thought your DYI snow globes are a very clever idea and I almost commented on it. Had I known the comments are important for you (and of course they are!) I would have taken 1 minute to write one. Promise to do better from now on.
I normally read your posts through the Google Reader. Does this count as site traffic? I don’t have a blog so I don’t know how these things work.
Hang in there. Things will get better.
Thank you! As I mentioned in response to another comment, I don’t know a single blogger who doesn’t love comments, so when in doubt (and sometimes I’m in doubt as a reader myself), I always err on the side of saying *something.* This isn’t a viable option for everyone (hard to comment on phones, hard to comment while nursing a baby), but it’s something I try to keep in mind. Most of us are not just navel-gazers but attention whores too, so proof that we have an audience out there is always appreciated.
Hi,
Hope you are feeling better today.
I love your writing and don’t comment enough and I should! So sorry you are feeling this way. Sometimes everything just conspires against us to make us feel horrible. Twitter does have a way of making me feel blacklisted a lot too..and yet I love it. I know its silly to be sad or jealous when input is often not acknowledged but we feel how we feel. Sigh. Yours is one blog I will never ever quit
You said it: We feel how we feel. That’s why I get frustrated at myself when I get in these downward spirals (because I don’t want to feel what I feel!) and how I usually pull myself out of them. Sometimes the best we can do is feel the feeling, acknowledge it for what it is, and then just move on. Easier said than done, but it’s always worth a shot. Better than wallowing for days and days, that’s for sure.
I love reading your blog. Don’t stop writing. It’s entertaining to read. You make me feel so much better about being a mom by sharing what’s going on in your life, and I almost always get a laugh.
Yay! I don’t think I’m very funny, so it always tickles me when I can make someone laugh. Thank you!
Hi Leah,
Im sorry that you are/were struggling. Its tough to balance everything and some days are better than others as I know you well know. I am writing because I wanted to first let you know that I think you are an amazingly talented writer. I always enjoy reading your posts because they are just so well-written. The second reason I am writing is to respond to your questions as to why your posts/blogs are as popular as some other bloggers. I have thought this many times over the last several years as a regular reader that as much as I think are more talented than many bloggers out there and just as interesting that the fact that you and Simon hide behind aliases feels alienating somehow. I realize its your choice to make and that you have your reasons for it but I do feel very differently reading Holly Burns blog or Amy Storch’s blog (to name just two) where I actually invested in the people/families because I know their names. Its not just the names though–I think you almost taunt your readers that we are not worthy of knowing Wombat and Fox’s names and I find it off-putting. Sarah from Whoorl and Brenda from Secret Agent Josephine are two other bloggers who refer to their kids by pet names but when the kids were born they did share the name and for whatever reason, it warmed me to them and is one of the reasons that I remain loyal to them. I feel like you have a wall up from your readers/me and maybe that is why your numbers don’t equal others. In any event, just food for thought. Apologies in advance if I hurt your feelings or ruffled feathers. Best wishes for a wonderful holiday season for your family and birthday for your son. Chiara
Thanks for this comment, Chiara. The alias thing is something I’ve thought a lot about over the years and is something I come back to more often than you’d probably guess, so I’m going to use this as an opportunity to explain my stance on “anonymous” blogging. (I don’t want you to feel like I’m arguing with you specifically. I love your comment and want to answer as many questions as I can.)
Until I read so many comments from lurkers and non-bloggers on this post, I would have told you that my real name is the worst-kept secret out there, since Simon and I have always used our real names on conference badges, introduced ourselves with our real names in person, and introduced our sons as we normally would when meeting people for the first time. The aliases came about originally (in 2004, I think?) because I didn’t want people in my real life to find me online because I didn’t want them to think I was a total weirdo for having an online journal way back when not that many people had even heard the word “blog.” Now that everyone has a blog, that’s less of an issue, obviously, but it still totally creeps me out that people are *so* free with personal information when all it takes is a little imagination to see how that could be used against them. People talk about where their kids go to school, they geotag their homes and then mention when they’re going on vacation(!), they map the route they take running alone every day…it scares me. I would rather fancy myself anonymous (although there’s really no such thing if you’re good enough at the internet) than live my life wondering who might know more about me than they should. I’m paranoid! But maybe rightly so?
The short answer about the kids’ names is that my husband vetoed sharing them, and I respected that decision even though I disagreed with it. The long version is that I wanted to at least mention their names when they were born (because I LOVE their names), but in the end it felt irresponsible to do so, not just because I’m paranoid about our safety (see the link about crime in Oakland for a sense of my neighborhood) but because those names are theirs, forever, and I want my sons to be the ones who define what those names come to represent, not me. Putting something so personal and permanent on the internet without their permission is ringing a bell that can’t be unrung, and in this case, as in the case with my and Simon’s names, it felt wiser to err on the side of privacy. I know a bunch of other people might argue that putting up their photos is way more personal than their names, but I still think the bigger danger is in personal identity, so I’m convinced we’ve made the right decision for us.
As I’ve gotten more online writing gigs, though, I’ve been questioning my alias A LOT. Now that everyone has a blog and so many people are using their real full names, or at least variations of them (one of the bloggers you mentioned writes under her maiden name), it seems a bit ridiculous to do the semi-anonymous thing. And let me tell you, it feels *completely* ridiculous to make up a totally fake last name to go with a totally fake first name because a client needs it for a byline. But here’s the thing: I still consider my primary blog this one, which means I still consider myself a personal blogger first and a freelance writer for other sites second. I also consider my primary job to be book editing, which means I still consider this personal blog my hobby. If my career suddenly became wholly or mostly dependent on blogging (as with the bloggers you mention, and with the women most people would refer to as Big Bloggers), there might come a point at which I’d make the switch to my real name for professional reasons. But even then, I’ve been “Leah from agirlandaboy” for going on ten years now and, as I’ve told several blog-related clients, if I go by anything else, no one will know who the heck I am. (And as I get hired in part because I come with a built-in audience, they’re banking on my name being recognizable.)
Also on the work front, I’ve always done a lot of freelancing (editing, not online writing), which means I regularly come into contact with people who don’t know me and might want to do a little pre-hiring research on the old interwebs. Do I really want a potential client to Google me and find, first thing, a post about leaky nipples or the time I threw up in the gutter at a Mountain Goats concert? No. If I were marketing my skills as a personal blogger, this would be great–necessary, even–but since I’m marketing my skills as a copyeditor specializing in academic nonfiction, that’s not a part of me I’m eager to share, at least not right off the bat. A number of people from my real life have found this blog (my high school boyfriend! a fellow daycare mom! my grandma!), and where that used to be weird I now just take it in stride because I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve put up here. If a professional client finds me, that’s fine too, but I still don’t want this blog to be the first thing that pops up in Google when someone is really just looking for my professional qualifications, you know?
Also also, and this is absolutely about my paranoia, I don’t want every stranger out there on the internet to know where I live, where my son goes to school, where my husband’s band is playing, and by extension what my parents’ names are (and where they live and work) and who my MIL is, and on and on. We’re all linked on the internet, these days, and I want to be able to tell my story without dragging other people’s names and lives into that narrative without their permission.
In your comment, you said you feel like I’ve put a wall up between myself and my readers, but I honestly feel like the aliases have allowed me to be way more open and honest (and graphic!) than I would feel comfortable being if I knew that every client, high school friend, family member, and fellow preschool parent had access to my blog. I’m sorry to hear you find the aliases off-putting (and I’m sure you’re not alone), but in response I guess I’d argue the *Romeo and Juliet* defense and ask if this rose would smell any better if it went by the name *Rosa berberifolia,* or whatever. I like to think our names are irrelevant and it’s our stories and who we are that matter. I imagine you’d get less of both of those if I were using our real names (and to make the plot thicker, Simon doesn’t even go by his legal name!).
Anyway, thanks for the comment (I’m sure other people have had similar thoughts), and thanks for letting me use it as a jumping-off point for talking way too long about something most people probably don’t care about!
Hi Leah, Thanks so much for you reply. It makes total sense to me and I feel like a bit of an ass for raising it in the first place now knowing the background-particularly regarding how you want to market yourself to potential employers and for writing gigs that are unrelated to “mommy-blogs”. And I get the kid stuff. Its wise to be cautious. I will continue to be a regular reader and try to be better about commenting on all my favorite blogs. The whole nodding my head in agreement at the computer screen clearly isn’t conveying how much I enjoy so many of your posts and thoughts. Be well!
Ok, I was nodding along on basically all of this, but this part:
“(I know this sounds silly, but I wonder sometimes, especially when I join conversations on Twitter and no one responds: Have I been blacklisted? Is someone spreading rumors that make other people not want to touch me with a ten-foot pole, or even an @ reply? I know. It’s silly. But I do wonder.”
Had me basically vibrating from how much I was nodding. I feel that way, a lot, not just on Twitter, but throughout the blogosphere. I find myself feeling like I can’t break into conversations with the “old school” bloggers because they’re all so close, or the newer bloggers because they have different goals than me, or the popular bloggers because I’m too small, or on Twitter because of who I’ve been friends with, and and and and…and yeah. It sucks sometimes.
I’ll add my voice to the folks saying, I read (pretty silently), and have for years (in fact, I went hunting for your new feed when you disappeared. I…am too lazy for that with a lot of blogs). Keep writing authentically, and you’ll have readers, even if we’re quiet.
Gah. Twitter is such a minefield. I have a feeling we’re all insecure about it at different times, but I hope all of us can at least say that the majority of the time it’s something we enjoy. And when it’s not? Time to step away.
Hi Leah,
I am a little late to the party here but I wanted to chime in as well because this post provoked some self-reflection on my part.
I am not a part of the internet blogger community as I don’t have a blog and am just a reader. However, I have been reading a certain handful of blogs for a long time and I almost never comment. Not sure why that is but this post made me think about it and I think it really is selfish on my part. The least I can do is post the occasional comment to let you know that I am out there and I appreciate your blog. I am going to resolve to do that more, especially on the blogs that I read that don’t get the hundreds of comments (since those are some of my favourites).
I have been reading since just before Simon appeared on the scene and have enjoyed reading you throughout the years. I relate to so many of your posts and have found so many of them have helped me on my own journey to motherhood, in thinking about my own relationships and in so many other ways. Your blog is sincerely one of my favourites that I read. I love your honesty and your perspective. Sorry to lay on the cheese but it is all true!
So I just wanted to pop in and say a way overdue “thank you.” Thank you for putting your heart into your posts and for putting yourself out there. I’m out here reading and I will be as long as you are blogging. I will try to give back at least a very small fraction of what I gain in reading by coming out of the woodwork to comment every once and awhile. Really, it’s the least I can do.
I also have to say that I respectfully disagree with Chiara about her opinion on the aliases. I do not find them off putting at all and if I had a blog I would probably do the same (although I have to admit I am curious about your boys real names, I am sure they are great names!)
Thank you! I’m glad I could help get your thoughts flowing about commenting, and if you *do* start commenting more often on the other sites you read, I guarantee that those bloggers will appreciate it. The way I look at it, every commenter is a new potential friend, and we can all use more of those.
I’m not a blogger. But I get it, I respond to people/bloggers in blogs, and twitter all the time, and I NEVER get a response, and it’s annoying so I stopped. I guess I just figure they don’t want to hear what I have to say. There is one exception to this, and I love that blogger if for no other reason than that.
So consider yourself heard. I’ll comment from now on!
Blargh! I’m so sorry you’ve had such a crappy response.
The only thing I can offer by way of explanation is that sometimes it takes bloggers a little while to warm up to non-bloggers, if only because it takes longer to get to know you when we can just pop over to your site and learn all about you on our lunch breaks. Also, big bloggers are less likely to respond than smaller bloggers, but I also get that it feels more awkward to chat with smaller bloggers when it feels like the only people they’re talking to are their close friends. Twitter is delightful and has added so much to my life, but it’s also HAAAAAAARD a lot of the time, so you have my sympathy.
I like your blog. I just feel like most of my comments on blogs are either a repeat of what others have already said or lacking in creativity/cleverness.
I actually really enjoy your photos and – my favorite – your posts about cooking attempts gone wrong.
From one internet stranger to another: I hope things start turning up soon.
I totally get this, as it’s how I feel about commenting on other blogs too. I never have anything particularly interesting or insightful to say, or I can’t figure out a way to explain what I want to say in quite the right way, and then I get frustrated and close the window and then wonder why there’s no dialogue online anymore. And this is where I open that window back up and say, “Me too!” or “I liked this post. Thank you for writing it,” and I feel better because I know the blogger appreciates it on some level, even if she never says it out loud.
Hey Leah! I know I’m a little late to the party, but I just wanted to join the ranks of those who read, and have always read, your words religiously. My problem on commenting is that I just usually don’t have the time to think of something smart/witty enough to justify posting. I know that is pretty silly, but please know that I’m out there… reading and nodding my head and sometimes even getting teared up at your words. Please don’t feel you’re not being heard!
You–and all the habitual non-commenters out there who have come out to leave comments on this post–totally get a pass through 2013. It really does mean a lot just to know you’re out there!
Hi Leah! I have read your blog for about three years now, I have you on my blog feed via Blogger and I don’t know if you’re already aware of this but for some reason your blog stopped feeding to my blog list on the side. So I assumed for MONTHS that you just hadn’t written anything, come to find out, I have to click on your blog name and then follow your link that way. So maybe others were having the same issue and just thought you hadn’t written anything in a while hence no comments…? Just a thought!
The old feed is most definitely broken, but I’m not sure if that’s the issue with your sidebar. Try updating it to http://www.agirlandaboy.com/journal/feed and see if that works? And then let me know?
It worked! Glad to start reading again!
Well, Chanell beat me to it, but I realized a few months ago that your new posts had stopped showing up in my Google Reader feed (I just thought you were busy with the baby and hadn’t been posting!). This morning, I tried to re-subscribe but I couldn’t find a feed that showed your current posts. So that isn’t really an excuse, because I do read and only sometimes comment, but I’m here! Hi!
Hi! I love you! Try the new feed at http://www.agirlandaboy.com/journal/feed.
i’m super late to seeing this but i’m sorry you are feeling this way and even though i’m an AWFUL commenter (years and years of lurking here and other places; reading posts weeks after the conversation is over; your blog is one of the very few places i really connected (perhaps because when i started reading you were dating simon and didn’t have kids and i’m not married yet and don’t have kids or a house (although it clearly doesn’t mean i don’t loooooove reading about it; i just connected here more because you were in the same place i was?). i’m over punctuating and rambling like an idiot but mostly i just wanted to say hi! i’m here! totally still always reading even if i’m bad at actually interacting (too many other blogs i read where they get tons of comments and clearly don’t need my little voice).
also, hugs 
I love your little voice. You’re always doing awesome things, and I probably wouldn’t even know about you and your awesome things if you hadn’t ever posted comments here, so that’s something for us to both keep in mind. I’m glad you’re still hanging around!
Leah – I have always loved your blog and probably don’t comment enough, but I still read! I love your words for their honesty … their staying power … their humor … their ‘realness.’ I also feel like people don’t comment or read as much as in the past but! who cares! You are writing for YOU, ultimately (probably!) and hopefully that feels right enough. But I bet you have more people reading you than you think
I for one and thankful you are still around. and ps – your boys are adorable
Writing for myself is most definitely enough most days. It’s the posts that I’m absolutely writing for *other* people that tend to bum me out when I get very little response on them. (That sentence was in no way grammatically sound.) So…perhaps I should stop doing that so often? I think I just had an epiphany.
I am also so ashamed to admit I am a lurker… ugh now I feel like a creep. I am determined to do more commenting because I adore your stories and I think you are a fabulous writer! Also I have to say, just because I read some of the previous comments, I don’t think the aliases are off-putting in the least. I actually often wish I had a nickname for my daughter as cute as “Wombat” or “Fox”.