Reasons I will never be a mommy blogger

Dear blogging friends,
I love you. You know I do. But, you don't blog very often. Don't be offended; you know it's true. And so, to ward against the days I log on and there are no new posts from anyone, I've ventured forth to find new blogs.

And on my way, I've discovered a few characteristics you need if you want to be a (money-earning) blogger. (All examples are completely made up by me and are not true. I totally brush my teeth at least once every day.)

1. Hyperbole. You have to give your readers some reason to read, so everything is of epic proportions. Like, "I haven't brushed my teeth in three days. I'm a poster child for periodontal disease."
2. Outlandish phrases. As any creative writing class will tell you, you have to keep the language fresh. Don't use hackneyed or expectable phrases. So instead of saying "I noticed, too late, that I had bad breath," you would say, "After a long and animated conversation with my new neighbor, I felt sure we'd become sugar-lending friends in no time. Then I noticed a stench, coming from my own mouth, that smelled like several generations of dung beetles had been living out their days inside."
3. Unusually Capitalized Phrases. As those who've seen my Facebook recently know, I've already got this one down. Last week I went and picked tomatoes with my sister and mom. And I found an extremely large tomato that my sister said was the size and shape of her baby. And so I named it Fetus Tomato. And that is a phrase that just begs for capitalization.
4. No sense of privacy. Does this one need any explanation? No. But some bloggers put it all out there, from the icky pregnancy stories to the fight they just had with their mother-in-law.

This fourth one is the reason that I will never be a famous blogger. I can't help it. I'm an editor. I edit. When I was about nine, my sister and I got for Christmas these framed name certificates, that hung on the wall in the room we shared. It listed my name, which language it came from, the meaning, and different characteristics of my name. And one of the characteristics of my name (I don't know where these came from, by the way) was "discreet." So hanging on my bedroom wall, where I could see it every day, it was infused into my psyche. Discreet. Discreet. Discreet.

Maybe this is where I got it from, but I think of myself as being afflicted with a sense of relevancy. Yes, this can be a good thing. But it can also be an affliction, because sometimes I meet people who are not likewise afflicted. So I sometimes hear what an acquaintance's mother's sister-in-law had for lunch. And I can't keep from thinking, why does this person think I need to know this?

So. Discretion and relevance. I can't get away from them. I love blogging and sharing parts of what I'm doing and thinking. But I just wouldn't be comfortable putting it all out there. You don't need to hear about what I ate for lunch or the last time I cried so hard my eyes hurt afterward. Sharing too much kind of makes me feel like I might explode. That's an anxiety I probably ought to work through, but until then, I will continue the editing of my daily life to share with you here.