Worth is subjective.
I HAVE NOTHING TO WRITE.
NOTHING HAPPENED TODAY.
But let's unpack that, shall we?
To say that "nothing happened" today is a lie. Plenty of things happened today. Nothing happened that feels worthy of documentation, especially here, in such a public form. But who's to say what's worthy and what's not? Is it productive to presuppose that today's events are too bland or domestic to warrant some written record? How much of my inner critic is wrapped up in that assumption? What sociopolitical forces are at play? How much of that judgement originates within me, and how much stems from insecurities and internalized cultural messages that masquerade as common sense?
Here's what happened today: I woke up.
I ate oatmeal for breakfast and I fed the baby oatmeal and tried unsuccessfully to keep him from squabbling with his brother over Lego minifigs. My husband took the boys to their grandma's house. I answered 14,385 emails and edited 32,394 product descriptions. Neither one of those numbers is true but they feel true.
We had a parent teacher conference. The four-year-old is too smart and needs more screen time to keep him subordinate. In the afternoon we took a family trip to the library. I had a peppermint mocha from the cafe and edited copy on my laptop in the children's section.
We had chicken for dinner. The four year old refused to eat. The baby and I made Christmas cookies out of Play-Doh and explored how much of the Play-Doh you can put in your mouth before you're no longer "pretending" to eat the Play-Doh and are actually EATING the Play-Doh.
And now I am sitting in bed, listening to Christmas music on Pandora and typing to you.
See? I did have stuff to write about.