*Insert voice of an adult in a Peanuts cartoon here*

Okay, I need to address the elephant in the room - Why I'm not writing anymore.

What? You don't see an elephant? It's right there. It's soiling the rug as we speak. It's an abomination! You just see a lumpy, smelly couch in need of replacing? Elephant, old couch. Toe-may-toe, Toe-mah-toe.

Yeah, I'm busy. The kids are kicking my ass. They take up so many more hours than I was prepared to give up and most days I just don't have the time to give to my own creative outlets. Blah, blah, blah.

Honestly, I just don't have the words. I use so many words every day - words to admonish, to soothe, to share, to order, to read countless board books and sing even more songs - but mostly my words seem to bounce back at me, refusing to stick to the intended receiver. It's maddening. So when I sit down to write I find that I have no more left in me to give.

When I started this blog my tagline was something like, Why am I always repeating myself? Or, Doomed to repeat myself. I forget exactly but that's the basic gist. It was a joke and a play on the title of the blog but I could never see how true it would become. As a dog trainer I had taught many people one of the cardinal rules of having a well trained dog was to not repeat things over and over. Give a command, mean it, and follow up if the command is not followed. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Now as the mother of a four year old, an almost 17 month old, and wife of a man with a taxing job who travels frequently and always seems to be rushing out the door, I'm constantly repeating myself. Just further proof that I'm better with animals. My dogs listen to me but my family? Not so much.

These days I seem to be talking at my family more than I'm talking to them and some days - okay, most days - it gets to the point where I want to throw up my hands and say, What's the point? Usually followed by more than a few expletives but always to myself. Who's listening anyway?

I don't like this feeling of not being heard. As a stay at home mom I'm already in a position of not feeling like a respected member of society, no matter how many times Oprah tells the world how wonderful and necessary we are, so the compounded frustration of talking to people only to be ignored is not sitting well with me. Now I find myself reserving my words and saving them for when I really need them. I could have a great discussion with friends or chat up new people in the checkout line at the grocery store... Or I could save my strength for when I need to get two little people dressed and out the door, buckled in the car seats, sing Wheels on the Bus fifteen times and bark order to Don't Kick the Seat and Stop Annoying Your Sister and I Said No Snacks and NO WE'RE NOT THERE YET for the hundredth time. Lather, rinse, repeat x infinity.

And that's just when we're in the car.

I guess I should take my own advice from the dog world and tweak it just a bit for those of the two-legged variety. Maybe.

These days I feel my words bear no weight and honestly, seeing them here next to the blink, blink of the cursor is not really helping. Do they mean anything? Do they matter?

Come to find out, yes. I guess they do matter.

I took some time to go through my archives and I was surprised by what I found there. Moments I had forgotten, absolutely, and I was so grateful to my earlier self for having the foresight to write them down, but there also were actual pieces that I was proud of. There were posts that made me go, Damn, woman, you hit that one out of the park. Good for you! I was a little pissed off that I don't write like that anymore but still pleased that those words, at least for a period of time, came from me. Proof that I could string to sentences together! I'd like to say I was struck by inspiration and the words flowed like a mighty river from then on... But they didn't. More like a trickle from a leaky faucet, calcified and sort of stagnant, but I'll take what I can get at this point.

I may bitch and moan, it may be repetitive and dull, but they are my words and someday they'll all add up to something. To that point, someday my words will start sinking in with my kids too (Dear sweet Jesus, someday they will, right?) and my husband may look away from his work long enough to acknowledge my pleas for help (That's actually already working - Huzzah!). And my words here on this blog, no matter how trivial, will become precious to me when I look back on them.

And in the meantime, I'll start talking to the dogs more. They're great listeners.

Shit, I just realized this post sounds a lot like the whining from this post. Sorry, I suck. Um... Who wants to teach their dog to balance a treat on their nose?!