The Blogging Dilemmazaa

I had a little help coming up with that title, though I'm not sure from which helper it came. It's catchy, though.

I found a piece of notebook paper from last summer covered in notes that were meant to remind me of the things that happened that week. It bothers me a lot that I never got around to writing out the full version, and now I don't know what most of them mean. That was only a year ago.

I just loaded my memory card onto this new computer. I can't believe how much my kids have changed since that card was started, and I wish I could remember the circumstances surrounding all of the pictures. That card is only 8 months old.

I love it when I capture the little things to remember later, like tonight when Gary couldn't find short-sleeved super-hero pajamas for both Josh and Noah, he put them in white t-shirts and brown lounge pants and told them that's what Jedi wear to bed. Noah was very proud to show me his awesome outfit, and my giggle returned just now when I went to put clothes away and saw my little sleeping Jedi.

Or the other night when Gary and I were reminsicing about the old days when all of the primary classes had different names and songs to go with them. I sang all of the songs, but had to admit I didn't know the Blazer one, and asked Gary if he knew. He immediately busted out with, "I'm a Blazer B . . ." with show choir enthusiasm. (Of course made up. He didn't know, either.) I hurt from laughing. You had to be there, but lucky me, I was. (Especially when he called his song "Some cheap Mormon tune.")

But blogging . . .  wow, when in the world? Get to the end of a day, I'm exhausted, the kitchen floor is sticking to my feet, and the clean laundry is becoming dirty from lack of attention. Even if that were ignored, just opening the computer seems like a difficult chore, much less forcing my brain to think of something to write. Ouch. Much better to stare into space until Gary makes me get in my bed. Or wait until a night like tonight when I started making bread way too late, then jot something down with no pictures. Darn it, I want to keep our little family history, but - the bread is ready. And that's the dilemmazaa.