I’ve been in a bit of a creative rut lately.
I blame part of it on pregnancy and the fact that I spend about 80% of my day wishing I was sleeping. I missed the memo that, even though I was utterly and completely exhausted my first pregnancy, the second time around was 100 times worse. Namely because I’m spending my days these days caring for the child that I already have.
I’m still working (though, not for much longer! I’m finally almost done!) and that offers me some creative freedom. But, for the most part I’ve been totally and completely uninspired lately.
Mostly in relation to my photography. I’m still on the ropes about whether photography will ever be a profession for me. It most likely will be when we move again and I don’t have to spend so much time focusing on scheduling sessions around the ever changing weather. But, for now, I’m content just taking pictures of my family.
I am dying to take a couple of the workshops over at Clickin’ Moms. But, every time I even think about doing that I wonder how I’m going to fit something else into my shrinking schedule. Blogging is becoming increasingly difficult because, again, I’m so flippin’ tired.
I’m always amused by the number of comments and the response bloggers like Kelle Hampton get on their everyday, lifestyle, run of the mill posts. Not that Kelle isn’t brilliant and a spectacular writer. Or that she isn’t crazy talented and up to her ears in things occupying her time.
I’m just fascinated that such bloggers receive such a response from photos of the every day things. Like a cupcake. Or a post about how they spent their week. Or just a photo of their kid eating cheese with no words (okay, I don’t know that anyone has ever posted that, but you get the idea).
Maybe I’m just not a story teller in that sense. Or my life is a bit on the boring side to everyone else out there. Because my posts about the every day aren’t high ranking posts. They don’t get lots of comments. Or lots of clicks and shares and repins.
And that used to bother me.
Until I started flipping through my blog archives the other day and smiling over some of the posts that I have written about our every day. The tiny little things that I would have otherwise forgotten had I not written them down. Miniscule little memories that might seem insignificant to everyone else in the interwebs; but moments that mean something to me. To our family.
And I realized that it’s okay that not everyone “gets” it.
It’s okay that my sometimes mediocre photos and lack-luster moments aren’t of significance to every one else.
Because they are my moments.
With my family.
Just ordinary, everyday moments that I don’t want to forget.