Recently, I was asked if I’m trying to be “like the Pioneer Woman.” Hmm. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or flattered. Considering the source (a friend from Twitter), I decided she probably had no ill will. And how could I possibly be offended by such a comparison? Well, I’ve worked really hard to find my voice, build my audience, define my brand. I’ve only moderately stalked Pioneer Woman’s site, and to be honest, it’s a bit intimidating. My feet are (probably) way larger than hers, but she has incredibly big shoes to fill. She’s spent years building her online presence until she became a household name (and got her own TV show).
While I would love to bring in the kind of income Mrs. Drummond does, I’m not …
Yeah, I know I look rough. But I had to get up in the middle of the night to write this.
Sup? What, you didn’t know I could talk, let alone type? Well, I can. I can do a lot of things. But you wouldn’t know, would you? It’s always “my preschooler this,” and “my older daughter that.” Like the time she danced and people laughed. Woop-di-freakin-do! I could totally take her in a dance off. Anyways, it’s time you know the truth. I’m tired of living in the shadows. Tired of only being the subject of maybe 20% of my mom’s blog posts. That’s right. I exist. Maybe you didn’t even know that. Sure, my mom may have mentioned she has two daughters, but why doesn’t she ever talk about me? It’s always …
This is how excited they are about mommy’s big news.
Against your better judgment, you seem to like me. Well, maybe not me, but you like my writing. Well, maybe not my writing, but you’re related to me and feel obligated to read my blog. Okay, okay, enough with the self-deprecation. (Side note: I often have to catch myself from saying “self-defecation.” Different meaning ENTIRELY.)
Seriously, though, this blogging thing feels good to me. Natural. It excites me, fulfills me, and gives me a constructive place to squeeze out my brain juice every day. As a creative person, that’s important. So important. About the only thing it doesn’t do for me is pay the bills. (Well, indirectly, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.) And while I fought against the idea of monetizing (offering ad space …
Nothing quite perks up my day like seeing the little yellow notification icon at the top of my WordPress dashboard letting me know I have a new comment. (I love comments, by the way.) So when I saw it was from Jammie, an incredible woman I met at a writing conference recently, I was even more excited. Then, when I saw she was notifying me that she’d given me an award, I peed myself! (Ok, not really, but wasn’t that more interesting than saying I got even more excited?) 🙂
Here’s the thing. Jammie’s reason for giving me the award meant the world to me. She said, “I met Cat at a writer’s retreat and fell in love with her ability to tell her emotional story. Go tell it on the mountain, Cat!” …
Someone asked me recently if I consider myself a “mommy blogger.” Hmm…I’m a mom. And I blog. So, technically, I suppose I am. But I’m also a lot of other things. I’m a wife, a sister, an aunt and a so-so friend (my poor pals have been pretty neglected these past few years). It’s not that I’m boring. I just don’t have time to be interesting.
As it turns out, not everyone is a fan of mommy bloggers. “All they do is talk about their kids’ bodily functions and tantrums and lack of sleep and blah, blah, blah…” I have to admit I was a bit intimidated to even start a blog for fear that “those” people wouldn’t think I was funny or clever.
But you know what? I really don’t care anymore. Writing is my outlet, my indulgence, …