Oh NaBloPoMo, you kicked my butt. I’m spent.
For those of you who don’t know what NaBloPoMo is, it is shorthand for National Blog Posting Month. It occurs every November, and those of us who participate (2,216 of us this year) are challenged to post on our blogs every single day in the month of November. Why do we sign up for this, you might ask. Well for me, it was both a test of my bloggy endurance and a writing exercise. I love to write, but I often don’t make time to do it. I wanted to challenge myself to do it daily for 30 days and see how it felt.
It felt great most days, but now I am tired. Yet here I am, writing again the very first day after NaBloPoMo. Maybe it’s a habit now to find a chunk of time each day to write about my life.
I just hope somebody is reading. Lots of somebodies.
My stats for November weren’t very surprising. Sure it was my best month ever, with the most page views yet. But barely.
On the one hand, I’m disappointed that my page views aren’t higher, given how much work it is to maintain a blog (especially writing daily). On the other hand, I wonder why I care about page views at all! My goal for blogging was to work through my postpartum depression through writing. And I met that goal. So when did my goal suddenly become to gain readers? It happened and I didn’t even realize it until last night when I obsessively checked my monthly stats several times before midnight. Crazy, I know.
So now that NaBloPoMo is over, I’m going to chill out and just post whatever and whenever I feel like writing. And if I don’t have anything to say and just want to write for the sake of getting shit out of my head, so be it–it’s my blog, afterall!
But let’s be honest, I will continue to hope somebody is listening.
In completely unrelated news, Jax got a haircut last night. Since my husband was heading to Hair Cuttery to get a haircut himself, I thought why not take Jax along for a big boy haircut? (We usually go to Kids Kuts.) Big freaking mistake.
Jax screamed, and I do mean screamed, for most of the time. Several times, his screaming and crying turned into wretching and heaving. That was fun & not embarrassing at all. I did feel pretty bad for my boy, who had hair in his mouth and stuck to his tear-streaked face, including by his eyes and possibly in them at one point. Other times during the longest haircut in history, I felt annoyed with him for making this into a much bigger deal than it truly should have been. What is it about haircuts that freaks out little boys so much?
The hairdresser, whom at first I felt bad for, took her time–you’d think she was cutting the hair of a celebrity or something! How’d we end up with a perfectionist?! And not only that, but it also seemed like she didn’t have a whole lot of experience cutting the hair of a 2-year-old.
I know, I know–what did I expect, taking him to a Hair Cuttery instead of a kids’ place?!
We won’t ever be doing that again. EVER.
And by “that,” I mean cutting his hair. Ha!
We had to drop $20 at the Hallmark store right next door after the trauma of the haircut just to get Jax into a happy mood again before we dragged him to run more errands.
So how was your night??