I Miss Me

I am not an author. I don’t pretend to use proper grammar or punctuation. I do not agonize over these things. I don’t really care if I use way too many commas. There is a good chance I am putting the quotations in the wrong place in position to the punctuation. I use a lot of contractions instead of typing out two words. I blog, but I wouldn’t call that writing. My sentences run on and on and on. I write pretty much in the same fashion that I speak. That is dangerous. All this to say...

I am not an author.

However, I feel compelled to write. I have spent the last few months pouring through books at a rate that I do not normally have the time for. Sometimes this means staying up until 1 in the morning to finish a few more chapters, knowing that the next day will find me dragging and requiring inhumane amounts of caffeine in order to keep up with the little person that resides in my home. I have become, once again, fascinated by authors. Not authors of a time long ago (though I find them fascinating as well), but with writers of the here and now. The mothers that write their family story as they face down cancer, the mom who took a dream and created an entirely amazing new world (Twilight...oh how I love you), the man who finds himself in his 40’s and is trying to make sense of his life. Authors who live lives that are fairly mundane and ordinary and yet when they put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, they weave an amazing story that we all want to be a part of. Fiction or non-fiction, they write.

And so, I feel compelled to write. I just can't.

Searching for our new home has given me writer's block. I want to share all of our adventures about house hunting, but then I think to myself, "Missy, it's really not that funny". No one wants to hear that you, once again, put another offer on another house. And once again, we didn't get the house.

I'm not saying, "Oh poor, pitiful me.....feel sorry for me", I just want you all to know that yes, I'm still here and yes, I'm still breathing and yes, funny things are still happening here in the Richard's household.......I just don't feel like myself. Instead of trying to find the time to write about our daily routines and that once again, Mr. Grayson tried to dunk a very expensive remote in a Dickey's cup of water.....AND SUCCEEDED......I spend hours searching the Internet for our new home.

I had a dream the other night that was familiar. It was a dream that chronicled the way Kevin and I came to be...US. I could write about that. I have Grayson, and that in itself, supplies a great deal to write about. I am hopelessly insecure....that is something to write about and also a reason not to write at all. I have had hardships and triumphs over the last 10 years that could also become material for writing.

I do not have illusions that I will become the next great American author. I just feel compelled to write. To write about everything and to write about nothing in particular.

I just need to write.

So, next week I'll go back to posting actual posts. As in, with words. For now, though, I had to post a few photos I snapped these last few weeks. My words are pretty much hollow in comparison, anyway.
Grayson getting some Nana lovin'

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Sharing cake with Pawpaw

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Making Easter cookies with Mimi

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Taking a stroll with Pappi

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And taking turns with his BFF

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