Chickenblog is nearly five years old. Chickenblog is a journal, a spectrum that ranges from sublime, yet glorious expression to tedious whining, with a lot of cute pictures for variety and interest. I like to think that all of this writing and self expression is only for dear friends and interested family, and that Chickenblog is only a means of staying in touch without having to lick a stamp. But, late at night, when the house is quiet and I've fallen in bed, I close my eyes and let my dreams wander, and often those dreams take me to Fresh Air. Yes, Terry Gross wants to talk to a regular-mom kind of woman and she's picked me because besides being regular, I am also witty and interesting. She likes what I have to say about sunsets, raising four children, Autism, Geek life, living in, and between, two cultures, and home schooling. She likes that I'm a smart-ass that cooks, quilts, and knows how to pop corn on the stove top.
Don't pay too close attention to my modest remarks, or self deprecating humor. I may sound indifferent, jaded, but there's more going on in my head. It's not as though I don't want to stand out, to be recognized for my deep thoughts and musings. From the safety of my dreams it seems awfully nice when Terry Gross leans in to hear about my childhood, and my reflections on the disappearance of the middle class, and even middle-age, in American culture. In my wistful wanderings, I am articulate, succinct, interesting. But then there is the rest of my day, when kids need to be picked up from school and the mess in my car is a driving hazard, and a hundred other things are keeping me from believing I have the time or skill to be anything more than a regular mom. And hey, I have a lot to say about being a "regular mom," because it is really quite amazing, and full of more than most people suspect, but I can't get into any of that right now, because I do have to pick those kids up from school.
Chickenblog is nearly five years of scratching the surface, making dinners, cleaning messes, finding joy and grace.
Janice, you make me feel exceptional, even when I answer the door naked. Thank you.