blog, blog, blog (read: blah, blah, blah)

I keep thinking blogging will become a more cathartic release for me, but it hasn't happened yet.  Perhaps I was never meant to be a blogger.  I have this internal battle every time I go to write a new blog post: 


"Self, what should I write about?"  
"Oh, I don't know, Self.  Perhaps your latest struggles with being a wife and mother?"   
"Well, I don't know, Self.  I think I've exhausted that topic and no one wants to read about all of my problems.  Everyone has their own problems and perhaps the world-wide-web is not the place to broadcast my issues with life."  
"But Self!  You could help someone with your vast amount of life knowledge and experience!  Think about all you've done!  It could help someone!...???"  
"I don't know, Self.  I don't think I've done enough to be useful to anyone.  So maybe I'll just post some pictures of my really cute baby.  That won't get old after picture #5 katrillion, all with the sub-title:  I love my baby!  Isn't she the cutest??!"




Seriously though, what is the point of blogging?  Why did I start this thing?  I have no good answer.  I have no skills that I can show-case on this blog.  My artwork isn't good enough for that yet.  My family life basically sucks, so I don't want to write about that, and my kid is the cutest baby in the world and I shouldn't want to rub that in everyone's faces all the time.   


I can offer this one ray of sunshine to the world for those who have not yet discovered it:  

surisburnbook.tumblr.com

***Disclaimer:  You would have to know who various celebrities are to care at all about this website.  If you do, and you enjoy dry humor and vicious sarcasm, this should cheer you up.

Boo Bear

Courtesy of Noah Coleman:

Summer is coming

In anticipation of the coming summer this has become Isla's favorite activity.  It's the only time she'll sit still and just be.  

In other news, she loves shoes.  She asks to have them on almost all the time.  They don't even have to match each other.