Kent has high dreams, mostly that I'll pen a best seller and he can retire and live off my income. He has no qualms about voicing his dreams based on my talent. Please note, he's the one that says "talent", I am not claiming to be a writer. If I want to toot my own horn, I'll talk about my incredible baking skills with light and fluffy whole wheat bread that will melt in your mouth. Writing? It's something I do to record my families antics. Someone has too.
While I'm flattered that he puts so much stock in my writing skills, the pressure to be witty is killing me. I'm starting to feel like I'm being critiqued every time my husband reads a blog post. I also get the feeling that he's taking inventory on how many stories from our family could be drawn on for potential book material.
The pressure, oh the pressure, to spout words of wisdom intertwined with witty tales from my children's lives!
Okay, it's not really like that. I write what I write because it's enjoyable to me. I like to share my feelings and thoughts and well, telling tales on the kids is all bonus for me. I love sharing the good and it's good to share the frustrating. It keeps me sane. Allows me to air concerns and worries. And I laugh. A lot!
As far as putting together a book, I don't believe most people would be interested in what I have to say. Lets face it, this frazzled mom's view of the world just may be a bit skewed. Who am I kidding? Raising my boys, my view of the world is warped!
So the plan is to keep dong what I'm doing and stand on my internet soap box and proudly proclaim my whacked world views, from narrow telescopic mom view and let my husband print them off to put in the family file.
*Cough* Sorry, he prints them off to put in the "Possible BOOK file".
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