Blame the Blog

The familiar sour taste is back this morning. Wonder why I have a pattern of blogging for 4 or so months, then giving up? Mornings like this one.

I sat down to write a couple hours ago with nothing. A signature and no thought to place before it. But it's been days, and I always post Monday. Who knows what the rest of the week will look like? I gave God about 15 seconds to inspire me before turning to the kitchen. When in doubt, cook.

A granola recipe has been in 'testing' for several weeks now. Eh - why not iron out the last kinks? So I spent all morning toasting and chopping and mixing. Not because granola is complicated - I had to tinker with my method and ratios. Must create the next 'perfect granola' recipe. Delusions of 'America's Test Kitchen'.

Looking out the kitchen window while washing up from the first mess, the perpetually overgrown lemon balm caught my eye. Oh yeah, I was going to do something with that. So I set about making several quarts of different herbal teas. Again, with a future post in mind. Again, awarding myself much greater culinary prowess than I deserve.

On and on. All while trying to craft winsome introductions.

I'm sure by now, you've asked the question I forgot to: Don't you have children? What have the girls been doing all this time?

When I finally broke from my self-absorbed experiment, I found pee on the floor and shreds of what used to be a beautifully illustrated children's book. Standing over their mess were two fed-up toddlers, ready for time away from their beloved sissy.

This is where I get disgusted with the blog. Of course I would be an attentive, present mother, reading with her children and one step ahead of the little bladder if I didn't have to feed the blog. It's all the internet's fault.

You already know. You're much smarter than I am: The blog requires nothing. Somewhere, a blog marketer just exploded, but really, the blog would still be here if I didn't write. It would still hold recipes and funny memories and awesome stuff God has done. It's a journal, not an obligation.

The girls require. More than food. Engaging their hearts and minds. Something Momma failed at today.

But God's mercies are new every nap time Lamentations 3:22-23 New Momma Version.

Lay down the wooden spoon and with it my pride {I heard recently that pride keeps us from recognizing our own ridiculousness - amen}. Fold hands in my lap. Bow head before the Father. Praise the Spirit for revealing my selfishness before it spoiled an outlet of praise.

Hope your Monday is Spirit-filled and Christ honoring - Happy day after Momma's Day!